Great Mother speaks to musemother about Essential Wisdom for Women
“Bring me your tired women” – she said, “your weary and weak.”
and the women were very tired – they were tired of working fourteen hour days; they were tired of schlepping children to daycare at 7 am and picking them up at 6 pm, of fighting over homework and of never having a minute alone with themselves, let alone their husbands. They were tired of changing toilet paper rolls and of picking up puppy poo, of being the only one who walks the dog and feeds the cats.
They were tired of PMS, hot flashes and sleepless nights. They were tired of driving their kids to karate, tae kwon do, brownies, cubs, guitar lessons, hip hop and ballet classes. They were tired of sore necks, bursitis and tendonitis from typing all day. They were tired from doing laundry at midnight and making breakfast at 5:30 a.m.
They had tried physiotherapy, acupuncture, osteopathy and chiropractors. They had taken supplements, joined a gym, cut out carbohydrates, walked and jogged and step-classed themselves to even greater fatigue, and Great Mother, all they wanted was to lie down on the floor and rest their weary heads…. Yes, even the hair on their heads hurt, and their ears were sore from hearing, Mommy I need this by tomorrow or I’ll get a detention….
And Great Mother replied…
Dear dizzy, busy daughters of Earth – yes, you do need to rest – you need to lie down on my grassy breast, or float in my salty waves – you need to give yourselves a break before you break a leg – or crack up in a nervous break-down.
Why can’t you rest? Why can’t you press the pause button? That is why I created meno-pause. You’re not paying attention – listen carefully please – you were not created to Do It All Alone – there are no super moms or superwomen out there –
Listen to what Ishtar, Queen of Heaven invented many thousand years ago – a Sabbatu, or heart’s rest at the full moon (or when you get your period). This is your turn to take a day off – Long ago, a sacred day of rest was created – the Sabbath- it is a sacred day, a day to refresh and renew your energy, a much needed, blessed rest, once a week – from there you can reset your clock, your energy and give out again to your family, your job.
Come home to me. Receive my gift. You may have all the gold in the world, but without peace in the heart, you will never feel fulfilled or at rest.
My peace I give to you – make yourselves a sacred space, a space of quiet, without distraction, in nature or in your room: light a candle, run a hot bath, or sit quietly in meditation, walk in the woods or listen to a babbling stream, take a nap, put on some soothing flute music, stretch your muscles in yoga, or lie in corpse pose on the rug - but these you must do regularly to feed the heart’s need for rest.
Find/make your own Sabbatu, for the body is your temple and the heart sits on its throne. Hearth and heart need a space to call Home,
My blessings always, Queen of Heaven.
as recorded by musemother
musemother
Monday, January 08, 2007
Sunday, January 07, 2007
No more resolutions
There is a chain of ‘shoulds’ that I want to break free of.
So from now on, I release my self from following any of the rigid rules I previously held myself to, through fear and/or anxiety of not being ‘good enough’, or even a 'good girl', good mother, good worker, good exerciser, good meditator, good anything.
Contrary to all those coaches out there, my rebel self refuses to set goals for the future, preferring to set my sights closer to the present. My excuse is that the future is unforeseeable and change is the only constant. (However, I am booking a flight for Dallas for next Saturday….and a vacation at Easter….I guess that resolve is broken too).
Just for Today - is challenge enough for me.
One worthy goal might be to stay as close as possible to consciousness and bliss as is humanly possible - wouldn't that be nice? Also, remind myself that surrender and trust are necessities for success in this human endeavor, of being human that is.
How you ask? maybe by grounding myself in the experience of being alive, in gratitude and acceptance, in being real. I need a load of help to do this.
Usually, I break all my promises on a regular basis. I am impatient, bossy and anxious – my cries for help are inconsistent, if constant, as are my moments of forgetfulness.
Truth is, I would love to accept myself exactly as I am, with no firm resolutions or need to change anything (except perhaps for my judgment of myself). Perhaps then I might inch my way towards self-acceptance, body wisdom, simplicity.
Does anybody else hate new year's resolutions? Is anyone else tired of the subtle self-hatred that gets masked by the desire to improve ourselves all the time? Can we ever relax and just be?
What have you resolved to not resolve, today?
“Stay with the companions whose lips are wet with that water! Rumi advises.
Happy New Year,
Jenn
musemother
So from now on, I release my self from following any of the rigid rules I previously held myself to, through fear and/or anxiety of not being ‘good enough’, or even a 'good girl', good mother, good worker, good exerciser, good meditator, good anything.
Contrary to all those coaches out there, my rebel self refuses to set goals for the future, preferring to set my sights closer to the present. My excuse is that the future is unforeseeable and change is the only constant. (However, I am booking a flight for Dallas for next Saturday….and a vacation at Easter….I guess that resolve is broken too).
Just for Today - is challenge enough for me.
One worthy goal might be to stay as close as possible to consciousness and bliss as is humanly possible - wouldn't that be nice? Also, remind myself that surrender and trust are necessities for success in this human endeavor, of being human that is.
How you ask? maybe by grounding myself in the experience of being alive, in gratitude and acceptance, in being real. I need a load of help to do this.
Usually, I break all my promises on a regular basis. I am impatient, bossy and anxious – my cries for help are inconsistent, if constant, as are my moments of forgetfulness.
Truth is, I would love to accept myself exactly as I am, with no firm resolutions or need to change anything (except perhaps for my judgment of myself). Perhaps then I might inch my way towards self-acceptance, body wisdom, simplicity.
Does anybody else hate new year's resolutions? Is anyone else tired of the subtle self-hatred that gets masked by the desire to improve ourselves all the time? Can we ever relax and just be?
What have you resolved to not resolve, today?
“Stay with the companions whose lips are wet with that water! Rumi advises.
Happy New Year,
Jenn
musemother
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
musing on the pause
Ladies who lunch and gab about their lives often talk of their menopausal symptoms. Today was no different. At our annual lunch, two of my best friends got together over Indian thalis and pakoras.
One of my friends, recently returned to work after burn-out, is still fatigued and not sleeping well except while on vacation, when she sleeps in til 8:30 a.m. What am I going to do when school starts again? she asks.
The other friend, also recently taking a break from work after burn-out, mentioned a naturopath had prescribed supplements to help her build up her adrenals. Thus we launched into a discussion of adrenal fatigue. Not too unusual in mid-life, and apparently common at menopause for women, according to Christiane Northrup, MD.
"Chronic stress over a long period of time leads to adrenal depletion and is a setup for menopausal problems. The stronger a woman's adrenals and the better her general nutrition, the easier the transition into menopause.....
Another source of fatigue: "Hot flashes are related to blocked kundalini energy and unused sexual juice. The kundalini energy begins to rise naturally around the age of forty, and it 'activates' the chakras through which it passes.
Any unfinished business residing in the lower chakras will make itself known during the menopausal years."
Women's bodies women's wisdom, Dr. Christiane Northrup
So there you have it. I have also read that sleeplessness is a side effect of exhausted adrenal glands. Rest, rest, rest, and eat well. Follow the simple-minded steps for wisdom posted earlier on this blog. Women need to be told what their instincts have been telling them for years....
take care of yourselves,
musemother
One of my friends, recently returned to work after burn-out, is still fatigued and not sleeping well except while on vacation, when she sleeps in til 8:30 a.m. What am I going to do when school starts again? she asks.
The other friend, also recently taking a break from work after burn-out, mentioned a naturopath had prescribed supplements to help her build up her adrenals. Thus we launched into a discussion of adrenal fatigue. Not too unusual in mid-life, and apparently common at menopause for women, according to Christiane Northrup, MD.
"Chronic stress over a long period of time leads to adrenal depletion and is a setup for menopausal problems. The stronger a woman's adrenals and the better her general nutrition, the easier the transition into menopause.....
Another source of fatigue: "Hot flashes are related to blocked kundalini energy and unused sexual juice. The kundalini energy begins to rise naturally around the age of forty, and it 'activates' the chakras through which it passes.
Any unfinished business residing in the lower chakras will make itself known during the menopausal years."
Women's bodies women's wisdom, Dr. Christiane Northrup
So there you have it. I have also read that sleeplessness is a side effect of exhausted adrenal glands. Rest, rest, rest, and eat well. Follow the simple-minded steps for wisdom posted earlier on this blog. Women need to be told what their instincts have been telling them for years....
take care of yourselves,
musemother
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
Happiness for 2007 will be....
"Living life should be a beautiful thing every day…living your life …with feeling. Not just to think of being alive, but to actually feel alive every single day." Maharaji
Reflections on the old year: We are such busy people, with so little time to let the snow's light fall in the window, to smooth and soften our bruised and harried city-people selves.
Here's where I relax....every winter, we retreat to the Laurentians on the weekends, to a stone cottage. There we build fires, shovel snow, ski. Read the weekend papers; catch up on book reviews, nap.
The silent snow, and stalwart trees are more present than television. Absolute emptiness, lack of activity is the only balm for sore minds and hearts. All week, we rush and bump, brag and bully, push, harass and drive ourselves mad. Then we escape here, to have long baths, eat out, make love, d̩crochez Рhang up the phone, drop out, unhook ourselves from hurry, restrict the surfeit of stimuli fed to the senses in our city lives, reduce to a country diet, plain meals for the ears, eyes and skin; senses drained of excess partying, excess noise, traffic, horns, slush and rush.
Reduce the tempo to allegro; let the gentle waves of silence fill the cup inside, feed the hunger for aloneness, solitude, respite, rest. A stopped beat on the sheet of music, the little hat that indicates hold off singing here – stop – hold a breath or take a deep breath, whichever is more restful. Then continue.
I sit here in the lazy boy armchair watching snowflakes falling, bowing down the boughs, for at least 30 minutes without feeling the need to move or change rooms. Here, we cultivate lack of movement, and raise it to a fine art. Here, the balsams are a balm for splintered souls.
Wishing you a restful new year, and happy new beginnings in 2007, along with a poem from last December, inspired by Mary Oliver.
Ice on the Lake
Black and grey rocks, the quay
mantled in white. This night dips below
zero. Wild ducks have left the gentle
waves. At lake’s edge, thin sheets of ice
tinkle, almost mute.
December empties lake and sky
of colour, fills them with snow-light.
And something nameless contents itself
with its own reflection.
musemother
Reflections on the old year: We are such busy people, with so little time to let the snow's light fall in the window, to smooth and soften our bruised and harried city-people selves.
Here's where I relax....every winter, we retreat to the Laurentians on the weekends, to a stone cottage. There we build fires, shovel snow, ski. Read the weekend papers; catch up on book reviews, nap.
The silent snow, and stalwart trees are more present than television. Absolute emptiness, lack of activity is the only balm for sore minds and hearts. All week, we rush and bump, brag and bully, push, harass and drive ourselves mad. Then we escape here, to have long baths, eat out, make love, d̩crochez Рhang up the phone, drop out, unhook ourselves from hurry, restrict the surfeit of stimuli fed to the senses in our city lives, reduce to a country diet, plain meals for the ears, eyes and skin; senses drained of excess partying, excess noise, traffic, horns, slush and rush.
Reduce the tempo to allegro; let the gentle waves of silence fill the cup inside, feed the hunger for aloneness, solitude, respite, rest. A stopped beat on the sheet of music, the little hat that indicates hold off singing here – stop – hold a breath or take a deep breath, whichever is more restful. Then continue.
I sit here in the lazy boy armchair watching snowflakes falling, bowing down the boughs, for at least 30 minutes without feeling the need to move or change rooms. Here, we cultivate lack of movement, and raise it to a fine art. Here, the balsams are a balm for splintered souls.
Wishing you a restful new year, and happy new beginnings in 2007, along with a poem from last December, inspired by Mary Oliver.
Ice on the Lake
Black and grey rocks, the quay
mantled in white. This night dips below
zero. Wild ducks have left the gentle
waves. At lake’s edge, thin sheets of ice
tinkle, almost mute.
December empties lake and sky
of colour, fills them with snow-light.
And something nameless contents itself
with its own reflection.
musemother
Friday, December 22, 2006
Solstice Greetings
Winter solstice
Happy Christmas, Kwanza, Hannukah, Festival of Light: today is the shortest day, and the beginning of the return of the light. The sun will stay a few minutes longer every day, until it lengthens, incrementally, into summer once again.
It’s also about Christmas trees, wrapping presents, kids going nuts with exams and then whoopee – 2 weeks off school. Yikes!
Usually it’s a hectic, crazy, too-many-parties time of year. This time I’m pacing myself; my shopping was done last week. Miracle! Still lots of time to wrap presents, for some of the 20 family members on each side. Our first party has come and gone; we danced like crazy, had a wild time, drank some great wine and survived the morning after. One down, only five more to go….
You wanna know what’s on my Christmas list? Besides diamonds and pearls? No really, simplicity would be good. I started in November by cleaning out my cupboard of old work clothes. I haven’t worked in an office in over 12 years. Why was I saving those suits with shoulder pads?
Second on my list, living in the moment, having an awareness of joy seep into me. My deepest desire is to feel that I am being guided with every step. That would take a lot of stress off. To know that I’m always in the right place at the right time, if I can slow down enough to appreciate it.
This morning I sat with an intention, a prayer, to let go and trust the higher power. Inside this frame, this container -- what is holding me? Can I let myself be rocked inside the empty space, hear the channel of breath rising and falling, echo of the great wind that breathes me? Help me let go, lose the fear, feel the love.
I have a companion on the path, a guide and I ask him for help too. He says love is stronger than fear.
He also says, “If you want to increase your blessings, start counting them.”
I wish you all a multitude of blessings!
Happy Return of the Light!
musemother
Happy Christmas, Kwanza, Hannukah, Festival of Light: today is the shortest day, and the beginning of the return of the light. The sun will stay a few minutes longer every day, until it lengthens, incrementally, into summer once again.
It’s also about Christmas trees, wrapping presents, kids going nuts with exams and then whoopee – 2 weeks off school. Yikes!
Usually it’s a hectic, crazy, too-many-parties time of year. This time I’m pacing myself; my shopping was done last week. Miracle! Still lots of time to wrap presents, for some of the 20 family members on each side. Our first party has come and gone; we danced like crazy, had a wild time, drank some great wine and survived the morning after. One down, only five more to go….
You wanna know what’s on my Christmas list? Besides diamonds and pearls? No really, simplicity would be good. I started in November by cleaning out my cupboard of old work clothes. I haven’t worked in an office in over 12 years. Why was I saving those suits with shoulder pads?
Second on my list, living in the moment, having an awareness of joy seep into me. My deepest desire is to feel that I am being guided with every step. That would take a lot of stress off. To know that I’m always in the right place at the right time, if I can slow down enough to appreciate it.
This morning I sat with an intention, a prayer, to let go and trust the higher power. Inside this frame, this container -- what is holding me? Can I let myself be rocked inside the empty space, hear the channel of breath rising and falling, echo of the great wind that breathes me? Help me let go, lose the fear, feel the love.
I have a companion on the path, a guide and I ask him for help too. He says love is stronger than fear.
He also says, “If you want to increase your blessings, start counting them.”
I wish you all a multitude of blessings!
Happy Return of the Light!
musemother
Monday, December 18, 2006
Body Guidance
"For healing to occur, we must come to see that we are not so much responsible for our illnesses as responsible to them. ...see it not as the enemy to be 'curecd' but as an aspect of [our] own inner guidance that [i]s trying to direct attention toward health enhancing changes in [] life."
Dr. Christiane Northrup, M.D. Women's Bodies Women's Wisdom
This amazing book came into my life by accident, as wisdom sometimes does. My aunt Betsy had sent it to my mother for Christmas. It sat on the coffee table, and I couldn't take my eyes off the title.
This was about 10 years ago I think, and I doubt if my mother ever had a chance to read the book (she wasn't interested at the time) because my sisters and I nabbed it. Since then I have lent it out to many women. One woman got a second opinion about a hysterectomy and ended up not having or needing one because of this book.
It led me to teach a journal writing course called Writing the Body a few years later, incorporating some exercises I learned from a workshop with Marion Woodman (i.e. having a dialogue with your uterus) with some ideas of Northrup's. I love the idea that our bodies' connection with the emotional system is so linked, so metaphorical. Breaking a leg meaning 'having to stand on one's own two feet', for instance. Breast cancer linked to too much giving, ie breasts = nurturance.
My own connection to my body seems to be blocked at the neck. I've been taking yoga classes for about ten years and although I am still a beginner in the asanas, I just started a daily practice to keep me grounded and in touch with the belly during the day. Being conscious, or mindful as some people say, requires a lot of practice. It's so much easier to live in your head!
Inside my body are so many emotions, ignored, not wanted, neglected or denied. The emotions stuffed down 'there', eaten in haste, swallowed in shame. Listening to the belly wisdom or body guidance, is about getting in touch with what is there, about letting it be, not trying to push it away, or run from it. It catches up with us anyway, in back spasms, irritable bowel syndrome, depression, chronic shoulder and neck pain, arthritis, a myriad of messengers begging us not to live in denial of our feelings.
I believe it's harder still to live with the illnesses that are a consequence of too much stuffing down.
I notice how my belly tightens when I'm hearing something that makes me anxious or afraid. Breathe into it. Stretch into it. Accept what is.
Take it easy, I remind myself. Don't sweat it. Breathe deeply.
Then I also remind myself, my body guidance will not become natural and instinctual overnight.
Fill the belly bowl with breath, let it out, and release.
one more time, now...
peace,
musemother
Dr. Christiane Northrup, M.D. Women's Bodies Women's Wisdom
This amazing book came into my life by accident, as wisdom sometimes does. My aunt Betsy had sent it to my mother for Christmas. It sat on the coffee table, and I couldn't take my eyes off the title.
This was about 10 years ago I think, and I doubt if my mother ever had a chance to read the book (she wasn't interested at the time) because my sisters and I nabbed it. Since then I have lent it out to many women. One woman got a second opinion about a hysterectomy and ended up not having or needing one because of this book.
It led me to teach a journal writing course called Writing the Body a few years later, incorporating some exercises I learned from a workshop with Marion Woodman (i.e. having a dialogue with your uterus) with some ideas of Northrup's. I love the idea that our bodies' connection with the emotional system is so linked, so metaphorical. Breaking a leg meaning 'having to stand on one's own two feet', for instance. Breast cancer linked to too much giving, ie breasts = nurturance.
My own connection to my body seems to be blocked at the neck. I've been taking yoga classes for about ten years and although I am still a beginner in the asanas, I just started a daily practice to keep me grounded and in touch with the belly during the day. Being conscious, or mindful as some people say, requires a lot of practice. It's so much easier to live in your head!
Inside my body are so many emotions, ignored, not wanted, neglected or denied. The emotions stuffed down 'there', eaten in haste, swallowed in shame. Listening to the belly wisdom or body guidance, is about getting in touch with what is there, about letting it be, not trying to push it away, or run from it. It catches up with us anyway, in back spasms, irritable bowel syndrome, depression, chronic shoulder and neck pain, arthritis, a myriad of messengers begging us not to live in denial of our feelings.
I believe it's harder still to live with the illnesses that are a consequence of too much stuffing down.
I notice how my belly tightens when I'm hearing something that makes me anxious or afraid. Breathe into it. Stretch into it. Accept what is.
Take it easy, I remind myself. Don't sweat it. Breathe deeply.
Then I also remind myself, my body guidance will not become natural and instinctual overnight.
Fill the belly bowl with breath, let it out, and release.
one more time, now...
peace,
musemother
Thursday, December 14, 2006
Belly Wisdom Sweetness
If I could be my own healer, what would I do? Maybe lie down on the ground and just breathe, or listen to a flute playing on a recording while a chanting voice hovers in the background.
Maybe let my cat come and lie down on my belly.
Or maybe do some yoga, and get in touch with my own belly wisdom.
What does my belly (or deep feminine soul) have to say? It might invite me to
- stay inside the channel of breath
- feel the corridor of energy up and down my body
- feel the life energy inside the body temple
Inside me is a home for thought, a temple of self-knowing; my belly is a womb carrier, a soul belly bowl, a child-maker cell cooker, a sower of seeds, reaper of blood, life holder bird watcher, cloud bringer, wind no wind breath mover, compass of compassion, place of gut vision.
She, belly wisdom, echoes back distress or acceptance. Anxious yearning or presence of love.
Breathe into the belly-heart beat.
Laugh into the heart of the belly.
Find home base, here, deep inside the breath. Here, she is at home.
I am at home, in my body. Mind focussed, light on, feeling peace, acceptance of my shadow and pain, breath moves up into my heart from the belly, and up into throat, and higher. All the centers light up, root to crown.
From crown to root, all my centers lit.
I hug my body to the bone
and breathe my heart smile into my belly of peace.
That is sweet.
luv,
musemother
Maybe let my cat come and lie down on my belly.
Or maybe do some yoga, and get in touch with my own belly wisdom.
What does my belly (or deep feminine soul) have to say? It might invite me to
- stay inside the channel of breath
- feel the corridor of energy up and down my body
- feel the life energy inside the body temple
Inside me is a home for thought, a temple of self-knowing; my belly is a womb carrier, a soul belly bowl, a child-maker cell cooker, a sower of seeds, reaper of blood, life holder bird watcher, cloud bringer, wind no wind breath mover, compass of compassion, place of gut vision.
She, belly wisdom, echoes back distress or acceptance. Anxious yearning or presence of love.
Breathe into the belly-heart beat.
Laugh into the heart of the belly.
Find home base, here, deep inside the breath. Here, she is at home.
I am at home, in my body. Mind focussed, light on, feeling peace, acceptance of my shadow and pain, breath moves up into my heart from the belly, and up into throat, and higher. All the centers light up, root to crown.
From crown to root, all my centers lit.
I hug my body to the bone
and breathe my heart smile into my belly of peace.
That is sweet.
luv,
musemother
Monday, December 11, 2006
The soul of sexuality
“Imagine living in a culture where sex was a sacrament rather than a sin!” Dr. Christiane Northrup
Imagine Eve embracing the snake...
“Kundalini is a special kind of energy known in many cultures... Kundalini is said to be hot, fast, powerful, and large. It exists within the earth, within all life, and within each person. …Yogis spend lifetimes learning how to wake up their Kundalini so they may experience enlightenment. Success causes a surge of super-heated energy to travel through the body, firing the nerves, dilating blood vessels, and altering the nature of reality. Sounds like a hot flash to me.” Susun Weed, New Menopausal Years the Wise Woman Way
“Orangutans do not go into menopause. Chimpanzees do not need extract of mare pee…. Only in human females does the fertility program shut down years before death.” Natalie Angier, Woman An Intimate Geography
“Sex is the mysterious binding energy that keeps the electrons spinning around the nucleus. It is the energy of God and spirit expressing itself in ever-changing, ever-evolving physical form...
It is the attracting energy that binds every part of the universe. …in the broadest sense, sex is spirit seeking expression in physical form." from Mother Daughter Wisdom, Dr. Christiane Northrup
“The clitoris is simply a bundle of nerves: 8,000 nerve fibers to be precise…twice the number in the penis.” Angier says a clitoris’ sole purpose seems to be to give a woman control over her own sexuality. Woman, An Intimate Geography
Sex and spirituality are both acts of love, according to Thomas Moore in The Soul of Sex. “Affection is one effective way to resolve the dualism of body and spirit….Affection is the process of making love sensual…giving sex the soul it needs so as not to become aggressive, manipulative and empty.
“When spirituality and sexuality come together, like yin and yang, like husband and wife, we discover our lost security. We find the vertical life, the electric axis on which deep sensation runs into lofty spirit…” (sounds like Kundalini to me)
Sex and spirit: body infused with spirit, energy, light: LOVE equals Limitless Oscillating Vibration of Energy.
Think of that next time you make LOVE.
peace,
musemother
Imagine Eve embracing the snake...
“Kundalini is a special kind of energy known in many cultures... Kundalini is said to be hot, fast, powerful, and large. It exists within the earth, within all life, and within each person. …Yogis spend lifetimes learning how to wake up their Kundalini so they may experience enlightenment. Success causes a surge of super-heated energy to travel through the body, firing the nerves, dilating blood vessels, and altering the nature of reality. Sounds like a hot flash to me.” Susun Weed, New Menopausal Years the Wise Woman Way
“Orangutans do not go into menopause. Chimpanzees do not need extract of mare pee…. Only in human females does the fertility program shut down years before death.” Natalie Angier, Woman An Intimate Geography
“Sex is the mysterious binding energy that keeps the electrons spinning around the nucleus. It is the energy of God and spirit expressing itself in ever-changing, ever-evolving physical form...
It is the attracting energy that binds every part of the universe. …in the broadest sense, sex is spirit seeking expression in physical form." from Mother Daughter Wisdom, Dr. Christiane Northrup
“The clitoris is simply a bundle of nerves: 8,000 nerve fibers to be precise…twice the number in the penis.” Angier says a clitoris’ sole purpose seems to be to give a woman control over her own sexuality. Woman, An Intimate Geography
Sex and spirituality are both acts of love, according to Thomas Moore in The Soul of Sex. “Affection is one effective way to resolve the dualism of body and spirit….Affection is the process of making love sensual…giving sex the soul it needs so as not to become aggressive, manipulative and empty.
“When spirituality and sexuality come together, like yin and yang, like husband and wife, we discover our lost security. We find the vertical life, the electric axis on which deep sensation runs into lofty spirit…” (sounds like Kundalini to me)
Sex and spirit: body infused with spirit, energy, light: LOVE equals Limitless Oscillating Vibration of Energy.
Think of that next time you make LOVE.
peace,
musemother
Sunday, December 10, 2006
Sacred Sexuality and the feminine
some unrelated or related thoughts on women's sexuality:
Kundalini is the snake energy coiled at the base of the spine, or 1st chakra. Eve married the snake....initiated into her sexual being/nature.
Borysenko says menopausal women in a hot flash are awakening kundalini energy.
Pinkola Estes’ likens a woman’s heat to her intense sensory awareness that “includes, but is not limited to, her sexuality….There were once Goddess cults devoted to irreverent female sexuality…not derogatory, but concerned with portraying parts of the unconscious that remain, yet today, mysterious and largely uncharted.”
I love her story about Baubo the belly goddess who spreads belly laughs, and cures Demeter of her sadness. Pinkola Estes says arousing the libido through dirty jokes can help break up a depression… Baubo made Demeter laugh by wiggling her hips in a suggestive way. The funny thing was, she had no head: her nipples were her eyes and her vulva was her mouth; from it came juicy jokes. (Women who run with the wolves)
The throat and the vulva are linked in eastern medicine. Two mouths, one above, one below. The one below speaking a different kind of truth, something elemental, natural, of the wild nature.
more tomorrow,
musemother
Kundalini is the snake energy coiled at the base of the spine, or 1st chakra. Eve married the snake....initiated into her sexual being/nature.
Borysenko says menopausal women in a hot flash are awakening kundalini energy.
Pinkola Estes’ likens a woman’s heat to her intense sensory awareness that “includes, but is not limited to, her sexuality….There were once Goddess cults devoted to irreverent female sexuality…not derogatory, but concerned with portraying parts of the unconscious that remain, yet today, mysterious and largely uncharted.”
I love her story about Baubo the belly goddess who spreads belly laughs, and cures Demeter of her sadness. Pinkola Estes says arousing the libido through dirty jokes can help break up a depression… Baubo made Demeter laugh by wiggling her hips in a suggestive way. The funny thing was, she had no head: her nipples were her eyes and her vulva was her mouth; from it came juicy jokes. (Women who run with the wolves)
The throat and the vulva are linked in eastern medicine. Two mouths, one above, one below. The one below speaking a different kind of truth, something elemental, natural, of the wild nature.
more tomorrow,
musemother
Thursday, December 07, 2006
The Wild feminine
A wonderful book I lived with for over a year by my bedside and as my bible, is the Women Who Run with the wolves by Clarissa Pinkola Estes.
I love her descriptions of the wild feminine - that hungry soul who is 'famished for a life that has meaning and makes sense', who has such creative urges that living in ease and comfort can make her feel like she is living in a famine.
"If a woman is supposed to be lady who sits with her knees kissing only each other, if she was raised to keel over in the presence of rough language, if she was never allowed anthying to drink but pasteurized milk...then when she is freed, look out! Suddenly she may not be able to drink enough of those slow-gin fizzes, she may sprawl like a drunken sailor, and her language will peel the paint off the walls. After famine, there is a fear one will again be captured someday. so one gets while the getting is good."
When creative spirit is thwarted or locked away, a wild woman becomes sad, like a wild animal kept in a zoo, no matter how pampered and fed. "Too much domestication breeds out strong and basic impusles to play, relate, cope, rove, commune..." Pinkola Estes calls these women 'instinct injured'.
A woman like this gives herself away and cannot recognize her own needs.
Pinkola Estes analysis of the Red Shoes story leads her to suggest it's overlaid on top of a matriarchal story about the onset of menarche and the taking on of 'less-mother-protected life'. Amazing, that colour red - symbolizing a woman's first blood, birth, and/or miscarriage. I have to re-read this chapter! Full of interesting information that I underlined the first time round.
Anyway, three cheers for the wild feminine! She will not subsist on crumbs, on little sips of fresh air. She will not be stifled, nor held back. "The wild force in a woman's soul demands that she have access to it all." We have adapted to captivity, but it does not suit us. Our instincts may have gone underground, but they are still steaming hot. Our bodies carry the ancient memory of being free, of feeling safe to be a woman, of being strong, sensitive, loving and fierce. All in one.
I, myself, am tired of living small, tired of squishing my 'freedom fighter' into a shoebox. I ache for all the women who are kept indoors, underwraps, who must serve and serve and never have a voice. It seems a small thing, to voice one's opinion without fear. But that voice rings out loud and clear, and clangs a bell in someone else's ear, who has the ears to listen.
I'm raving a bit here, loosening up the tight strings. While my daughter nurses a muscle spasm in her shoulder....from striving too hard, doing too much, already a little perfectionist in training at 14.....
good night,
musemother
I love her descriptions of the wild feminine - that hungry soul who is 'famished for a life that has meaning and makes sense', who has such creative urges that living in ease and comfort can make her feel like she is living in a famine.
"If a woman is supposed to be lady who sits with her knees kissing only each other, if she was raised to keel over in the presence of rough language, if she was never allowed anthying to drink but pasteurized milk...then when she is freed, look out! Suddenly she may not be able to drink enough of those slow-gin fizzes, she may sprawl like a drunken sailor, and her language will peel the paint off the walls. After famine, there is a fear one will again be captured someday. so one gets while the getting is good."
When creative spirit is thwarted or locked away, a wild woman becomes sad, like a wild animal kept in a zoo, no matter how pampered and fed. "Too much domestication breeds out strong and basic impusles to play, relate, cope, rove, commune..." Pinkola Estes calls these women 'instinct injured'.
A woman like this gives herself away and cannot recognize her own needs.
Pinkola Estes analysis of the Red Shoes story leads her to suggest it's overlaid on top of a matriarchal story about the onset of menarche and the taking on of 'less-mother-protected life'. Amazing, that colour red - symbolizing a woman's first blood, birth, and/or miscarriage. I have to re-read this chapter! Full of interesting information that I underlined the first time round.
Anyway, three cheers for the wild feminine! She will not subsist on crumbs, on little sips of fresh air. She will not be stifled, nor held back. "The wild force in a woman's soul demands that she have access to it all." We have adapted to captivity, but it does not suit us. Our instincts may have gone underground, but they are still steaming hot. Our bodies carry the ancient memory of being free, of feeling safe to be a woman, of being strong, sensitive, loving and fierce. All in one.
I, myself, am tired of living small, tired of squishing my 'freedom fighter' into a shoebox. I ache for all the women who are kept indoors, underwraps, who must serve and serve and never have a voice. It seems a small thing, to voice one's opinion without fear. But that voice rings out loud and clear, and clangs a bell in someone else's ear, who has the ears to listen.
I'm raving a bit here, loosening up the tight strings. While my daughter nurses a muscle spasm in her shoulder....from striving too hard, doing too much, already a little perfectionist in training at 14.....
good night,
musemother
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
Awakening compassion
Many of us, through different religions, have developed an image of God, perhaps as an impersonal form of divine creative energy, like the big bang that birthed the cosmos, or as a benevolent parent-- father or mother (more usually, stern father).
Throughout Christian history, God is painted as a Father figure, but the essence of his concern and love is often presented in its mothering energy as a breast offering milk, in the form of the Madonna.
I prefer not to humanize the God energy in any particular way, but having been brought up Christian, my habit has been to pray to Our Lord. So now I add Our Lady, to balance the masculine image with a feminine one. My most intimate connection to the divine presence is through meditation, through contemplating the stillness in motion, or the source of life within, which can be felt inside the body, and has no gender.
But the idea of god’s gender sticks – which is why the Tao appeals to me. It is interesting that the ancient Chinese called the Tao the Mother of the universe – as well as saying it was nameless and formless. In her book, A Woman's Journey to God, Joan Borysenko quotes a well know Taoist woman philosopher Dr Zhang I Hsien (known as Lily Siou) as saying, “Female and male, called yin and yang in Tao, give joy to each other. They support each other and give life to the next generations… A universal law of Tao is that when the yin is complete, it gives birth to the yang. When yang is complete, it reaches satisfaction and gives energy to the yin; yin is the mother of yang. Both reach the fullness of their potential and give birth to the opposite.”
I find it useful to set aside trying to figure out whether God is male or female, and imagine these powers as feeding each other and birthing each other in the great swirling spiral of light and dark matter that is the universe, continually growing and expanding, dying and creating new life.
In the meantime, I am developing a love of feminine images of the sacred, in whatever form and from whichever culture. They are mostly new to me, so carry no cultural or religious baggage. My current favourites are Our Lady of Guadalupe from Mexico and Kwan Yin, the Buddhist goddess of compassion. Perhaps this represents what I need most in my menopausal journey right now – compassion towards my self, more rest, less judgment, less demands made on myself, and more understanding of my limitations.
Do some research on your own dear readers, to find a mother god image that speaks to you, or attend a class I am giving in January at the West Island Women’s Centre on Embracing the Feminine, sacred symbols of motherhood.
Email me for more information, if you like.
Jennifer
musemother
Throughout Christian history, God is painted as a Father figure, but the essence of his concern and love is often presented in its mothering energy as a breast offering milk, in the form of the Madonna.
I prefer not to humanize the God energy in any particular way, but having been brought up Christian, my habit has been to pray to Our Lord. So now I add Our Lady, to balance the masculine image with a feminine one. My most intimate connection to the divine presence is through meditation, through contemplating the stillness in motion, or the source of life within, which can be felt inside the body, and has no gender.
But the idea of god’s gender sticks – which is why the Tao appeals to me. It is interesting that the ancient Chinese called the Tao the Mother of the universe – as well as saying it was nameless and formless. In her book, A Woman's Journey to God, Joan Borysenko quotes a well know Taoist woman philosopher Dr Zhang I Hsien (known as Lily Siou) as saying, “Female and male, called yin and yang in Tao, give joy to each other. They support each other and give life to the next generations… A universal law of Tao is that when the yin is complete, it gives birth to the yang. When yang is complete, it reaches satisfaction and gives energy to the yin; yin is the mother of yang. Both reach the fullness of their potential and give birth to the opposite.”
I find it useful to set aside trying to figure out whether God is male or female, and imagine these powers as feeding each other and birthing each other in the great swirling spiral of light and dark matter that is the universe, continually growing and expanding, dying and creating new life.
In the meantime, I am developing a love of feminine images of the sacred, in whatever form and from whichever culture. They are mostly new to me, so carry no cultural or religious baggage. My current favourites are Our Lady of Guadalupe from Mexico and Kwan Yin, the Buddhist goddess of compassion. Perhaps this represents what I need most in my menopausal journey right now – compassion towards my self, more rest, less judgment, less demands made on myself, and more understanding of my limitations.
Do some research on your own dear readers, to find a mother god image that speaks to you, or attend a class I am giving in January at the West Island Women’s Centre on Embracing the Feminine, sacred symbols of motherhood.
Email me for more information, if you like.
Jennifer
musemother
Thursday, November 30, 2006
What is the feminine?
“To redeem the father meant finding the feminine spirit in myself!
Linda S. Leonard, The Wounded Woman, Healing the Father Daughter Relationship
Talking with a close friend recently about her lack of fathering, and how this lead to difficulties in her relationships, I suggested she read The Wounded Woman by Linda Schierse Leonard. That made me open up the book again, and dive into the quandary of what feminine means. I don’t know what it means except what has been conditioned in me. In my case I felt a rejection of anything that smacked of the brainless, hysterical stereotype of the feminine that I had absorbed. In the 60’s, this involved make-up, pointy heels, sexy skirts and hair do’s every Friday, or for mothers, having a perfectly kept house, and cooking with an apron on. I was not going to be one of those women.
If I patterned my idea of the feminine and masculine on my parents, and most psychologists would say this was true, then whatever my mom did was feminine, and whatever my dad did was masculine. She was not a perfect sample of femininity by the time I was conscious of this however. My mother was married to the house as a house-wife. My father left the house with his briefcase and suit every morning, and returned exhausted every evening in time for supper and a nap in his big armchair. When he was home, that chair was strictly reserved for the king of the household. (Mom had a chair too, a gold swivel rocker, but she preferred one end of the couch near a good reading lamp).
She hated housework, yet cooked meals that were practical and economical, due to eight children and a tight budget. She preferred her books to doing volunteer work at church. My dad worked in the larger corporate world of electronics and engineering, and later in a government trade department. He dressed like a business man, brought the newspaper home, cut out articles he wanted me to learn about, urged me to excel academically, and saved for me to go to university. He seemed successful. He got angry when things at home were not running smoothly, and that made my mother weep in her room. My dad was the disciplinarian, the authority figure, my mother was the emoter.
Rejecting the role of housewife was a part of the 60’s women’s liberation; we were moving into the masculine world of university and work, moving up, or so we thought. But what had we left behind? What was never taught us about being a woman because our mother’s wishes and desires and dreams were subordinated to her husband’s and father’s? What about her stories, her life beyond the house-wife role? I knew little of that side of her.
If, traditionally, the feminine side also represents feelings, sentiments, sensitivity, spontaneity, and the masculine, authority, rigidity, discipline, and obedience, and these were aligned with female and male behaviours respectively, we can understand why there is difficulty in human relations. No man or woman is all feminine or all masculine.
So back to the million-dollar question: how does a woman find the balance of feminine and masculine in herself? And if we don’t even know what the feminine is, because it’s only been seen through masculine eyes and ideals, how to even begin to imagine it?
Wearing men’s clothing, adopting masculine emotional habits, may have been a necessary part of the liberation of women, but Leonard feels that “now the time has come for women to wear their own clothing and to speak out of their feminine wisdom and strength. The feminine – what is it? I don’t think we can define it. But we can experience it and out of that experience try to express it via symbols and images, art forms through which we can be in the mystery of that experience and yet somehow articulate it too. ...One of the challenges women have today is not only to be open to the experience of the feminine but also to try to express it in their own way.”
Often, Leonard adds, we don’t feel we can use our mother as a model… “men have been defining femininity through their conscious expectations of what women can and cannot do and through their unconscious projections on women. …Ultimately women have to tell their own stories out of their own personal experience and feeling...”
…“If a woman really values herself and acts out of the unique realm of her needs, feelings, and intuitions, creates in a way that is hers, and experiences her own authority, she is then able really to dialogue with the masculine. Neither is she subservient to the masculine, nor does she imitate it.”
What would happen if one woman told
the truth about her life? The world
would split open..
from poem Kathe Kollwitz by Muriel Rukeyser
When you find out, let me know.
musemother
Linda S. Leonard, The Wounded Woman, Healing the Father Daughter Relationship
Talking with a close friend recently about her lack of fathering, and how this lead to difficulties in her relationships, I suggested she read The Wounded Woman by Linda Schierse Leonard. That made me open up the book again, and dive into the quandary of what feminine means. I don’t know what it means except what has been conditioned in me. In my case I felt a rejection of anything that smacked of the brainless, hysterical stereotype of the feminine that I had absorbed. In the 60’s, this involved make-up, pointy heels, sexy skirts and hair do’s every Friday, or for mothers, having a perfectly kept house, and cooking with an apron on. I was not going to be one of those women.
If I patterned my idea of the feminine and masculine on my parents, and most psychologists would say this was true, then whatever my mom did was feminine, and whatever my dad did was masculine. She was not a perfect sample of femininity by the time I was conscious of this however. My mother was married to the house as a house-wife. My father left the house with his briefcase and suit every morning, and returned exhausted every evening in time for supper and a nap in his big armchair. When he was home, that chair was strictly reserved for the king of the household. (Mom had a chair too, a gold swivel rocker, but she preferred one end of the couch near a good reading lamp).
She hated housework, yet cooked meals that were practical and economical, due to eight children and a tight budget. She preferred her books to doing volunteer work at church. My dad worked in the larger corporate world of electronics and engineering, and later in a government trade department. He dressed like a business man, brought the newspaper home, cut out articles he wanted me to learn about, urged me to excel academically, and saved for me to go to university. He seemed successful. He got angry when things at home were not running smoothly, and that made my mother weep in her room. My dad was the disciplinarian, the authority figure, my mother was the emoter.
Rejecting the role of housewife was a part of the 60’s women’s liberation; we were moving into the masculine world of university and work, moving up, or so we thought. But what had we left behind? What was never taught us about being a woman because our mother’s wishes and desires and dreams were subordinated to her husband’s and father’s? What about her stories, her life beyond the house-wife role? I knew little of that side of her.
If, traditionally, the feminine side also represents feelings, sentiments, sensitivity, spontaneity, and the masculine, authority, rigidity, discipline, and obedience, and these were aligned with female and male behaviours respectively, we can understand why there is difficulty in human relations. No man or woman is all feminine or all masculine.
So back to the million-dollar question: how does a woman find the balance of feminine and masculine in herself? And if we don’t even know what the feminine is, because it’s only been seen through masculine eyes and ideals, how to even begin to imagine it?
Wearing men’s clothing, adopting masculine emotional habits, may have been a necessary part of the liberation of women, but Leonard feels that “now the time has come for women to wear their own clothing and to speak out of their feminine wisdom and strength. The feminine – what is it? I don’t think we can define it. But we can experience it and out of that experience try to express it via symbols and images, art forms through which we can be in the mystery of that experience and yet somehow articulate it too. ...One of the challenges women have today is not only to be open to the experience of the feminine but also to try to express it in their own way.”
Often, Leonard adds, we don’t feel we can use our mother as a model… “men have been defining femininity through their conscious expectations of what women can and cannot do and through their unconscious projections on women. …Ultimately women have to tell their own stories out of their own personal experience and feeling...”
…“If a woman really values herself and acts out of the unique realm of her needs, feelings, and intuitions, creates in a way that is hers, and experiences her own authority, she is then able really to dialogue with the masculine. Neither is she subservient to the masculine, nor does she imitate it.”
What would happen if one woman told
the truth about her life? The world
would split open..
from poem Kathe Kollwitz by Muriel Rukeyser
When you find out, let me know.
musemother
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
women's wisdom quotes
Gloria Steinem:
If women are supposed to be less rational and more emotional at the beginning of our menstrual cycle when the female hormone is at its lowest level, then why isn't it logical to say that, in those few days, women behave the most like the way men behave all month long?
Virginia Woolf:
When, however, one reads of a witch being ducked, of a woman possessed by devils, of a wise woman selling herbs, or even a very remarkable man who had a mother, then I think we are on the track of a lost novelist, a suppressed poet. . . indeed, I would venture to guess that Anon, who wrote so many poems without signing them, was often a woman.
found on wisdomquotes website
Have a good day!
musemother
If women are supposed to be less rational and more emotional at the beginning of our menstrual cycle when the female hormone is at its lowest level, then why isn't it logical to say that, in those few days, women behave the most like the way men behave all month long?
Virginia Woolf:
When, however, one reads of a witch being ducked, of a woman possessed by devils, of a wise woman selling herbs, or even a very remarkable man who had a mother, then I think we are on the track of a lost novelist, a suppressed poet. . . indeed, I would venture to guess that Anon, who wrote so many poems without signing them, was often a woman.
found on wisdomquotes website
Have a good day!
musemother
Monday, November 27, 2006
Talkiing in Circles
Whew, what a weekend! Our women's circle held a retreat at my chalet up north, where eight of us feasted, talked, walked in nature, shared and cared and raised our serotonin levels. We also told each other our life stories, in a nutshell, because each one of us has had a life full of challenges and blessings.
And I learned again the power of women's talk: the power of listening to one another tell our story. It's the power to see yourself in someone else's tale, or marvel at how they have transformed adversity and tragedy into wisdom and generosity, giving back to their families and communities in spite of what was not given to them, or perhaps because of that lack.
Telling my story, in my own words, and seeing heads nodding in affirmation. A confirmation that I exist, that in my short time on the stage of life I have learned many lessons; telling my soul's journey.
I count my blessings, and am grateful to have found such enlightened women - such ordinary women with huge hearts. Women who have suffered and celebrated. Women who have birthed, and grieved deaths and loss.
Our circle is a small drop of water in the ocean, but it may be that millionth circle that will make the difference. We come together to learn, to share our resources, to grow in understanding. Perhaps our consciousness will raise - and make a ripple effect into our homes, families, communities.
In the circle, one more women becomes aware of her need for self-awareness, self-knowledge, inner peace and healing. One more woman embraces her gifts. "A safe place to tell the truth is a healing space," says Jean Shinoda Bolen. "Every time that a woman musters the courage to speak and it proves to be safe, trust grows and the psyche gradually heals. When others listen with compassion, invisible wounds and scars gradually heal."
"Women's circles become a womb space, where dreams and plans are incubated, and a place to voice them and be supported to take our first steps. ...When fierce compassion and concern for justice is the focal point of a circle, that circle will energize the women in it and is a circle with a centre." (from Urgent Messae from Mother, Gather the Wmen, Save the world, Jean Shinoda Bolen).
These are just some of the benefits of a circle. We learn to balance the feminine and masculine energies, to encourage a more egalitarian society.
What richness, what abundance we all can share!
in love,
musemother
And I learned again the power of women's talk: the power of listening to one another tell our story. It's the power to see yourself in someone else's tale, or marvel at how they have transformed adversity and tragedy into wisdom and generosity, giving back to their families and communities in spite of what was not given to them, or perhaps because of that lack.
Telling my story, in my own words, and seeing heads nodding in affirmation. A confirmation that I exist, that in my short time on the stage of life I have learned many lessons; telling my soul's journey.
I count my blessings, and am grateful to have found such enlightened women - such ordinary women with huge hearts. Women who have suffered and celebrated. Women who have birthed, and grieved deaths and loss.
Our circle is a small drop of water in the ocean, but it may be that millionth circle that will make the difference. We come together to learn, to share our resources, to grow in understanding. Perhaps our consciousness will raise - and make a ripple effect into our homes, families, communities.
In the circle, one more women becomes aware of her need for self-awareness, self-knowledge, inner peace and healing. One more woman embraces her gifts. "A safe place to tell the truth is a healing space," says Jean Shinoda Bolen. "Every time that a woman musters the courage to speak and it proves to be safe, trust grows and the psyche gradually heals. When others listen with compassion, invisible wounds and scars gradually heal."
"Women's circles become a womb space, where dreams and plans are incubated, and a place to voice them and be supported to take our first steps. ...When fierce compassion and concern for justice is the focal point of a circle, that circle will energize the women in it and is a circle with a centre." (from Urgent Messae from Mother, Gather the Wmen, Save the world, Jean Shinoda Bolen).
These are just some of the benefits of a circle. We learn to balance the feminine and masculine energies, to encourage a more egalitarian society.
What richness, what abundance we all can share!
in love,
musemother
Monday, November 20, 2006
Wisdom for Dummies
Tools for Gaining Essential Wisdom:
how to tune into body guidance.
The following is my anti-dote to all the Self-help books and gurus out there telling us what to do, what to eat, how to exercise. I believe our wisdom is close at hand, right within us, and very doable. If we can listen to our need for rest, food, inner peace, we can give ourselves the healing we need.
In my experience, this involves trust too, and knowing that I am enough. I have enough. I do enough - stop the worrying and the rushing and let the Universe take care of things. This is my challenge, right now, and I share it with you because it is simple, if not easy, to start following your body's guidance right now. The motto is, keep it simple.
(For example, the first rule is so simple, you'll laugh. But it has been trained out of us since childhood.)
l. Eat when you are hungry. Stop when you are full. Practice feeling satisfied. Eat sitting down. Enjoy your food. Let yourself be served once a week.
2. Sleep when you are tired. Take naps whenever possible. Set your body clock by going to bed at a reasonable hour. Find your own need, or minimum hours of rest.
3. Strike two items off your to-do list every day and be happy with that. Do not be a slave to ‘getting it all done’.
4. Take time to light a candle and sit in silence once a day, to center yourself. Make inner peace a priority.
5. Stretch, shake your body, dance, do yoga, walk, or move a new muscle. Wake up your body every day.
6. Go pee when you have to – respond to the first call. This is harder than it sounds.
7. When you have your monthly period, give yourself what you need – either rest or exercise. PMS is the result of not listening to your body guidance. Sit with your center and find time to relax. Hot water bottle or pilates? Your gut will guide you. This is your time to be alone; your intuition is stronger now. Pay attention.
I have found, that when I learn to take care of myself, and treat my body less harshly, more lovingly, I naturally become less harsh and more loving to others.
Balance effort with relaxation. Learn compassion for yourself. Be kind.
This is essential feminine wisdom.
ps I am trying to put these into practice, one day at a time. As a confirmed 'woman who does too much' and chronic worrier, this is also my antidote to stress.
musemother
how to tune into body guidance.
The following is my anti-dote to all the Self-help books and gurus out there telling us what to do, what to eat, how to exercise. I believe our wisdom is close at hand, right within us, and very doable. If we can listen to our need for rest, food, inner peace, we can give ourselves the healing we need.
In my experience, this involves trust too, and knowing that I am enough. I have enough. I do enough - stop the worrying and the rushing and let the Universe take care of things. This is my challenge, right now, and I share it with you because it is simple, if not easy, to start following your body's guidance right now. The motto is, keep it simple.
(For example, the first rule is so simple, you'll laugh. But it has been trained out of us since childhood.)
l. Eat when you are hungry. Stop when you are full. Practice feeling satisfied. Eat sitting down. Enjoy your food. Let yourself be served once a week.
2. Sleep when you are tired. Take naps whenever possible. Set your body clock by going to bed at a reasonable hour. Find your own need, or minimum hours of rest.
3. Strike two items off your to-do list every day and be happy with that. Do not be a slave to ‘getting it all done’.
4. Take time to light a candle and sit in silence once a day, to center yourself. Make inner peace a priority.
5. Stretch, shake your body, dance, do yoga, walk, or move a new muscle. Wake up your body every day.
6. Go pee when you have to – respond to the first call. This is harder than it sounds.
7. When you have your monthly period, give yourself what you need – either rest or exercise. PMS is the result of not listening to your body guidance. Sit with your center and find time to relax. Hot water bottle or pilates? Your gut will guide you. This is your time to be alone; your intuition is stronger now. Pay attention.
I have found, that when I learn to take care of myself, and treat my body less harshly, more lovingly, I naturally become less harsh and more loving to others.
Balance effort with relaxation. Learn compassion for yourself. Be kind.
This is essential feminine wisdom.
ps I am trying to put these into practice, one day at a time. As a confirmed 'woman who does too much' and chronic worrier, this is also my antidote to stress.
musemother
Friday, November 17, 2006
Motherhood as a heroic journey
Joseph Campbell calls motherhood a heroic task. What do heroes do? They confront dragons, you say, and look like Hercules or Jason and the Argonauts. They travel afar, bring back treasure, or save the country from ruin. Mothers don't do any of that.... but:
“Giving birth is definitely a heroic deed, in that it is the giving over of oneself to the life of another. …It’s a journey – you have to move out of the known, conventional safety of your life to undertake this. You have to be transformed from a maiden to a mother…a big change, involving many dangers.” Joseph Campbell, Power of Myth.
He also adds that in the heroic journeys of mythology, there is a place everyone wishes to find - like Siddhartha on his journey - and that the ultimate place to find is within yourself. "There's a center of quietness within, which has to be known and held. If you lose that center, you are in tension and begin to fall apart." (The Power of Myth). Ultimately, the adventure of the hero is the adventure of being alive. We are all heroes in our own story.
How are mothers heroes specifically? I've been thinking about this for a while now. First there is the body cycle we have to deal with and learn about - monthly periods, hormonal ups and downs, PMS. Then trying to get pregnant is an adventure - not always easy. For myself, one ectopic, and two miscarriages later, I finally had two pregnancies that held strong. Having your body transform and look as if you have swallowed the moon, not to mention all the hormonal changes, loss/gain of appetite, strange alien movements inside your body, fears of losing your old 'self'....all lead up to the big moment of Birth.
The ultimate transformation - when one becomes two. Talk about transmutation of substances (bread and wine into body and blood....)! A human being struggles through labour, contractions, and a huge force stronger than herself pushes the baby out through an impossibly narrow birth canal. Voila! Delivered! Separation. A hero is born on her journey, whilst another sleeps, exhausted from the battle.
But that is just the beginning. The new mother will be called upon to give unstintingly her own body as food to the new one, on demand 24-7; she'll be called upon to respond unselfishly to its constant needs, and go beyond what is humanly possible - in spite of lack of sleep, long days of seeming drudgery (domestic tasks), which may be blissful or may appear boring, on the outside. To nurture a human life, totally dependent on your own for its care, to ensure its survival.
And where then, is the quiet space in the centre? From where all athletes and heroes move, when they find it? That is the source of her heroism - to find her own Self in spite of giving it away on one level, day after day.
I think mothering challenges a human being to find that quiet space or risk being torn apart by conflicting emotions. Old patterns are like dragons that attack us. It's hard to give what you didn't get - we feel assailed by modern books and experts' guidance, by our parents' patterns - how to find our own 'best' way? our own wisdom?
Right now, I'm in a bit of a mourning phase - my teens are growing independent, aware, alert to their own path, their own desires, and seem to need me less. There are no more long, leisurely hugs or reading sessions on my knee. There is less 'mothering' to do. Letting go is required, so they can fly on the strength of their own wings (and strong opinions!) while I watch and listen. My own mother went through this eight times! I was not always kind during my detaching years...
My mothering journey has brought me to a realization that I have more healing to do and more forgiveness of myself and my mother. Suffering my own sense of loss of closeness with my daughter, I remember what my mother said, how I switched from being her best friend to her enemy at age 13. How to heal the past, and therefore be wholly in the present... with compassionate love.
Wish me luck on my journey towards wholeness, as I wish you luck on yours.
Peace,
musemother
“Giving birth is definitely a heroic deed, in that it is the giving over of oneself to the life of another. …It’s a journey – you have to move out of the known, conventional safety of your life to undertake this. You have to be transformed from a maiden to a mother…a big change, involving many dangers.” Joseph Campbell, Power of Myth.
He also adds that in the heroic journeys of mythology, there is a place everyone wishes to find - like Siddhartha on his journey - and that the ultimate place to find is within yourself. "There's a center of quietness within, which has to be known and held. If you lose that center, you are in tension and begin to fall apart." (The Power of Myth). Ultimately, the adventure of the hero is the adventure of being alive. We are all heroes in our own story.
How are mothers heroes specifically? I've been thinking about this for a while now. First there is the body cycle we have to deal with and learn about - monthly periods, hormonal ups and downs, PMS. Then trying to get pregnant is an adventure - not always easy. For myself, one ectopic, and two miscarriages later, I finally had two pregnancies that held strong. Having your body transform and look as if you have swallowed the moon, not to mention all the hormonal changes, loss/gain of appetite, strange alien movements inside your body, fears of losing your old 'self'....all lead up to the big moment of Birth.
The ultimate transformation - when one becomes two. Talk about transmutation of substances (bread and wine into body and blood....)! A human being struggles through labour, contractions, and a huge force stronger than herself pushes the baby out through an impossibly narrow birth canal. Voila! Delivered! Separation. A hero is born on her journey, whilst another sleeps, exhausted from the battle.
But that is just the beginning. The new mother will be called upon to give unstintingly her own body as food to the new one, on demand 24-7; she'll be called upon to respond unselfishly to its constant needs, and go beyond what is humanly possible - in spite of lack of sleep, long days of seeming drudgery (domestic tasks), which may be blissful or may appear boring, on the outside. To nurture a human life, totally dependent on your own for its care, to ensure its survival.
And where then, is the quiet space in the centre? From where all athletes and heroes move, when they find it? That is the source of her heroism - to find her own Self in spite of giving it away on one level, day after day.
I think mothering challenges a human being to find that quiet space or risk being torn apart by conflicting emotions. Old patterns are like dragons that attack us. It's hard to give what you didn't get - we feel assailed by modern books and experts' guidance, by our parents' patterns - how to find our own 'best' way? our own wisdom?
Right now, I'm in a bit of a mourning phase - my teens are growing independent, aware, alert to their own path, their own desires, and seem to need me less. There are no more long, leisurely hugs or reading sessions on my knee. There is less 'mothering' to do. Letting go is required, so they can fly on the strength of their own wings (and strong opinions!) while I watch and listen. My own mother went through this eight times! I was not always kind during my detaching years...
My mothering journey has brought me to a realization that I have more healing to do and more forgiveness of myself and my mother. Suffering my own sense of loss of closeness with my daughter, I remember what my mother said, how I switched from being her best friend to her enemy at age 13. How to heal the past, and therefore be wholly in the present... with compassionate love.
Wish me luck on my journey towards wholeness, as I wish you luck on yours.
Peace,
musemother
Monday, November 13, 2006
Saying Yes to Change
Weekend with Joan Borysenko, Kripalu Centre
I have one door on the doorknob of the future,
one hand on the doorknob of the past,
I am standing in the hallway of the present moment.
I came to the edge of the Unknown again.
I came empty-handed.
I came needing to let go of impatience, anxiety,
and wanting to know!
I let myself be in uncertainty,
and learned how to calm myself with my breathing.
There is no paint in rushing forward.
In the now there is only peaceful acceptance, curiosity.
When I focus on the future, anxiety and fear are my companions.
When I tell the story of my ego's past, I miss the deep wonder and curiosity about spirit.
I stay stuck in old patterns of doubt.
When I come back to centre, peace and a deep trust
begin to develop.
I let go of pessimistic thinking - of 'never' and 'always'.
I relax into knowing that I am taken care of by a force
larger than me.
I belong to the Beloved, I melt into the field of being.
I want that deep Intimacy.
Let me be an instrument of thy Peace.
blessings to all of us who want to know,
musemother
I have one door on the doorknob of the future,
one hand on the doorknob of the past,
I am standing in the hallway of the present moment.
I came to the edge of the Unknown again.
I came empty-handed.
I came needing to let go of impatience, anxiety,
and wanting to know!
I let myself be in uncertainty,
and learned how to calm myself with my breathing.
There is no paint in rushing forward.
In the now there is only peaceful acceptance, curiosity.
When I focus on the future, anxiety and fear are my companions.
When I tell the story of my ego's past, I miss the deep wonder and curiosity about spirit.
I stay stuck in old patterns of doubt.
When I come back to centre, peace and a deep trust
begin to develop.
I let go of pessimistic thinking - of 'never' and 'always'.
I relax into knowing that I am taken care of by a force
larger than me.
I belong to the Beloved, I melt into the field of being.
I want that deep Intimacy.
Let me be an instrument of thy Peace.
blessings to all of us who want to know,
musemother
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Harmony and balance in the mist
November mists and rain today. Tree trunks black and green with moss furring their trunks, bronze leaves of the oak still on the tree, and a calmness pervades my neighbourhood.
#55
She who is in harmony with the Tao
is like a newborn child.
Its bones are soft, its muscles are weak,
but its grip is powerful.
It doesn't know about the union
of male and female,
yet its penis can stand erect,
so intense is its vital power.
It can scream its head off all day,
yet it never becomes hoarse,
so complete is its harmony.
The Master's power is like this.
He lets all things come and go
effortlessly, without desire.
He never expects results;
thus he is never disappointed.
He is never disappointed,
thus his spirit never grows old.
This morning I was disappointed that the sink was still clogged. I had expected to be able to do it myself, or that my husband could wind his fish tool down there and clear it. We were stymied. Called the plumber at 7:00 a.m.
In spite of this, sitting in meditation this morning was very very peaceful, scintillant and exquisite. My mind was easily absorbed by the peaceful play of breath and the pool of calm within. There is nothing I love more.
Every day is a new day. I leave the disappointments behind, decide not to live in frustration. Surrender my expectations. One day at a time, one moment at a time, I can do this.
Chi, kundalini, tao, prayer of the heart, wisdom, peace: this experience has no name because it came into being before words. It is the "hu" in human, the "be" in being. Human, being.
Savour this......and the mist. If you find the world too dark, said Maharaji, turn on your own light. If we all turn on our lights, the world will be less dark.
musemother
#55
She who is in harmony with the Tao
is like a newborn child.
Its bones are soft, its muscles are weak,
but its grip is powerful.
It doesn't know about the union
of male and female,
yet its penis can stand erect,
so intense is its vital power.
It can scream its head off all day,
yet it never becomes hoarse,
so complete is its harmony.
The Master's power is like this.
He lets all things come and go
effortlessly, without desire.
He never expects results;
thus he is never disappointed.
He is never disappointed,
thus his spirit never grows old.
This morning I was disappointed that the sink was still clogged. I had expected to be able to do it myself, or that my husband could wind his fish tool down there and clear it. We were stymied. Called the plumber at 7:00 a.m.
In spite of this, sitting in meditation this morning was very very peaceful, scintillant and exquisite. My mind was easily absorbed by the peaceful play of breath and the pool of calm within. There is nothing I love more.
Every day is a new day. I leave the disappointments behind, decide not to live in frustration. Surrender my expectations. One day at a time, one moment at a time, I can do this.
Chi, kundalini, tao, prayer of the heart, wisdom, peace: this experience has no name because it came into being before words. It is the "hu" in human, the "be" in being. Human, being.
Savour this......and the mist. If you find the world too dark, said Maharaji, turn on your own light. If we all turn on our lights, the world will be less dark.
musemother
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Clogged sinks and Tao
Well, what a day! Waiting for the computer repair guy to show up (Hi Fred!), and doing dishes, making chicken broth... stupidly I poured some chicken fat down the drain, adding soap and hot water (well, luke-warm) and praying it would make it through....guess what?
So I call the plumber - will Drano do it? No, madame, never use that acid stuff, it eats your pipes.
OK - his advice; plunger, then boiling water - but wait - check the internet first. Good idea!
I found lots of good advice, like wear rubber gloves, stuff up the second sink hole with a rag so the junk or boiling water doesn't scald you; and, use baking soda and vinegar followed by boiling water 30 minutes later...
I do all this, plunge valiantly if inefficiently, slipping and sliding in my sink with my rubber gloves brightly on.
Nope. Still clogged. Then I did what any sensible woman does - I turned my attention to bills to be paid, hems needing fixing, phone call to the bank, practicing my songs for the choir, and lo....half an hour later, the sink had drained!
I think it was the mix of vinegar and baking soda - like a little volcano right in your sink, remember those Gr 4 science experiments your kids did? Lotsa fun.
Now that my sink is unclogged, and my second batch of chicken broth is cooling, (saving the inedible boiler chicken I baked the other night from being thrown in the garbage), I guess I'll put the chicken fat into the garbage this time.
The Tao in all this? Well, I was headed off to the dry cleaners, the Mall, the Future Shop and 3 other stores to do all my 'commissions' in one hour - when I suddenly realized I was getting panicky and rushing again. I turned around and headed back home, with only two errands done - and practiced my songs while unplugging the sink.
I got less done, and I am less stressed. My consolation is that the sink is now unplugged, and I am still breathing :)
take it easy,
musemother
So I call the plumber - will Drano do it? No, madame, never use that acid stuff, it eats your pipes.
OK - his advice; plunger, then boiling water - but wait - check the internet first. Good idea!
I found lots of good advice, like wear rubber gloves, stuff up the second sink hole with a rag so the junk or boiling water doesn't scald you; and, use baking soda and vinegar followed by boiling water 30 minutes later...
I do all this, plunge valiantly if inefficiently, slipping and sliding in my sink with my rubber gloves brightly on.
Nope. Still clogged. Then I did what any sensible woman does - I turned my attention to bills to be paid, hems needing fixing, phone call to the bank, practicing my songs for the choir, and lo....half an hour later, the sink had drained!
I think it was the mix of vinegar and baking soda - like a little volcano right in your sink, remember those Gr 4 science experiments your kids did? Lotsa fun.
Now that my sink is unclogged, and my second batch of chicken broth is cooling, (saving the inedible boiler chicken I baked the other night from being thrown in the garbage), I guess I'll put the chicken fat into the garbage this time.
The Tao in all this? Well, I was headed off to the dry cleaners, the Mall, the Future Shop and 3 other stores to do all my 'commissions' in one hour - when I suddenly realized I was getting panicky and rushing again. I turned around and headed back home, with only two errands done - and practiced my songs while unplugging the sink.
I got less done, and I am less stressed. My consolation is that the sink is now unplugged, and I am still breathing :)
take it easy,
musemother
Monday, November 06, 2006
The Tao makes her radiant
My favourite translation of the Tao Te Ching is by Stephen Mitchell (Harper & Row, 1988). He comes closer to colloquial expression and what I imagine the old Chinese sage must have sounded like - sometimes irreverent. Like in the following entry, #20:
Stop thinking, and end your problems.
What difference between yes and no?
What difference between success and failure?
Must you value what others value,
Avoid what others avoid?
How ridiculous!
Other people are excited,
As though they were at a parade.
I alone don’t care.
I alone am expressionless,
Like an infant before it can smile.
Other people have what they need;
I alone possess nothing.
I alone drift about,
Like someone without a home.
I am like an idiot, my mind is so empty.
Other people are bright;
I alone am dark.
Other people are sharp;
I alone am dull.
Other people have a purpose;
I alone don’t know.
I drift like a wave on the ocean,
I blow as aimless as the wind.
I am different from ordinary people.
I drink from the Great Mother’s breasts.
Isn't that great?
I love this entry! It makes me feel so relieved, it dissipates the heavy weight that descends on me looking at the pile of books to read beside my bed. I do not need to be ‘smart’ or ‘bright’. I can accept being dull from time to time (grin). Coleman Barks, the translator of Rumi and a great American poet, spoke at a conference in Massachusetts I had the privilege of attending two years ago. On the last day, during questions and answers with the many astute and devoted poetry lovers, he said, “I am often confused and I have no particular aesthetic.” Fantastic! What a relief to not have to belong to a school of thought or a style of poetry. Why not just be aimless as the wind, drifting like a wave on the ocean, breathing in the wisdom that comes from the senses. Why not feel like an idiot sometimes, and give the thinking brain a break?
This summer I remember being so tired from reading and thinking that my brain hurt; even the scalp on top of my head was sore. At the Taos writers’ spa, I mostly took advantage of the great yoga classes, the massage and reiki treatments; I wrote a bit in my journal. And I felt guilty for not writing every day or working on my many project ideas. But my body and brain needed the spa part of the week more than the writer part.
Amen. Here's to drinking from the source.
Another similar Tao Te Ching entry, #21, about what keeps the mind busy:
The Master keeps her mind
always at one with the Tao;
that is what gives her her radiance.
The Tao is ungraspable.
How can her mind be at one with it?
Because she doesn’t cling to ideas.
The Tao is dark and unfathomable.
How can it make her radiant?
Because she lets it.
Since before time and space were,
the Tao is.
It is beyond is and is not.
How do I know this is true?
I look inside myself and see.
Wow! Bravo for Lao Tsu and his inimitable expression of his own experience.
We can all look inside ourselves and see!
musemother
Stop thinking, and end your problems.
What difference between yes and no?
What difference between success and failure?
Must you value what others value,
Avoid what others avoid?
How ridiculous!
Other people are excited,
As though they were at a parade.
I alone don’t care.
I alone am expressionless,
Like an infant before it can smile.
Other people have what they need;
I alone possess nothing.
I alone drift about,
Like someone without a home.
I am like an idiot, my mind is so empty.
Other people are bright;
I alone am dark.
Other people are sharp;
I alone am dull.
Other people have a purpose;
I alone don’t know.
I drift like a wave on the ocean,
I blow as aimless as the wind.
I am different from ordinary people.
I drink from the Great Mother’s breasts.
Isn't that great?
I love this entry! It makes me feel so relieved, it dissipates the heavy weight that descends on me looking at the pile of books to read beside my bed. I do not need to be ‘smart’ or ‘bright’. I can accept being dull from time to time (grin). Coleman Barks, the translator of Rumi and a great American poet, spoke at a conference in Massachusetts I had the privilege of attending two years ago. On the last day, during questions and answers with the many astute and devoted poetry lovers, he said, “I am often confused and I have no particular aesthetic.” Fantastic! What a relief to not have to belong to a school of thought or a style of poetry. Why not just be aimless as the wind, drifting like a wave on the ocean, breathing in the wisdom that comes from the senses. Why not feel like an idiot sometimes, and give the thinking brain a break?
This summer I remember being so tired from reading and thinking that my brain hurt; even the scalp on top of my head was sore. At the Taos writers’ spa, I mostly took advantage of the great yoga classes, the massage and reiki treatments; I wrote a bit in my journal. And I felt guilty for not writing every day or working on my many project ideas. But my body and brain needed the spa part of the week more than the writer part.
Amen. Here's to drinking from the source.
Another similar Tao Te Ching entry, #21, about what keeps the mind busy:
The Master keeps her mind
always at one with the Tao;
that is what gives her her radiance.
The Tao is ungraspable.
How can her mind be at one with it?
Because she doesn’t cling to ideas.
The Tao is dark and unfathomable.
How can it make her radiant?
Because she lets it.
Since before time and space were,
the Tao is.
It is beyond is and is not.
How do I know this is true?
I look inside myself and see.
Wow! Bravo for Lao Tsu and his inimitable expression of his own experience.
We can all look inside ourselves and see!
musemother
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