"For women, spirituality is less a hero's journey to a distant land than a finding of our center in a God who is present in the homely practicalities of day-to-day life."
I recently picked up A Woman's Journey to God, by Joan Borysenko, while researching the Mother God for an upcoming class on Mary and Kwan Yin. It does my heart good to see her talk about women's spirituality being manifest in the day to day life, in the "home" where I spend so much time doing daily, practical (or impractical) things like cleaning up yesterday's hot water tank leakage, airing out the stinky cat litter box, or filling the house with the flavourful odour of beef stew simmering in a slow cooker all afternoon. Some days, it all seems so random; in spite of daily meal schedules, I can wander in circles all day feeling like I'm not getting much done, let alone living a life of 'spirit'. My goal is to get through the day, and the lists.
..."In the work world, where seminars speak of setting goals and objectives and then working relentlessly to obtain them, the apparently aimless exerse of walking without direction seems addled and unwise. Yet this is often an important theme of women's work and career stories. When we are walking Sarah's circle, there is no final destination. The process, the journey itself, is one of staying in alignment with what our own inner guidance is telling us. If we quit listening, we begin to feel anxious and inauthentic. The important relation to our own spiritual Self, and our relationship to God, suffers."
Joan Borysenko calls it wisdom and courage, not confusion, to wander in the 'don't know' space - don't know where I'm going, or what's coming next, or who I am. "It creates the space for something new to be born." How refreshing it is to read this. I am often in the transitional space lately, and it is comforting to know that I do not have to set goals, have answers, always know where I am going or who I am. Just trying to live in the present moment, in my body, paying attention to my intuition, to my gut feeling, to the feeling in my gut of butterflies or fear or nervousness or excitement, is challenge enough.
"Women's spirituality is about that presence (the wisdom and love we embody) as we walk through daily life, at work and at home, seeking the place of the heart from which healing and joy naturally flow."
"For women on a mission, coming into a balance of being and doing doesn't come naturally." (ie addicted to frenzied doing, burning out, we become dry and irritable and stressed vs calm, centered, relaxed) "The big question becomes, 'How can I get what I need without being selfish to others?'" (Borysenko) Maybe that is the burning question for ex-Catholics like myself, raised on a diet of Hail Mary's and good works, putting others first. Remember the oxygen mask on the plane - you need to put it on yourself first, then on the little ones.
I send out my prayer for connection with whatever is true compassionate love in the Universe, mother or father god; however that can manifest in my life, with the people I run into, spend time with, eat and play with. In the homely day to day 'stuff' of life that needs doing. I call out for patience and self-love, more compassion for my limitations, understanding how my being off-centre affects my family.
Mostly I pray to understand what love is, how to feel it.
Kwan Yin, mother of mercy, bring it on!
musemother
Friday, February 23, 2007
Thursday, February 22, 2007
The sexiest man alive is a dad pushing a pram
Great class today at the Women's Centre on Mary Magdalene - at least I thought it was great! What a neat group of women- (in case any of them are reading, they are super intelligent, deep thinkers and great conversationalists!).
No really, we have fascinating discussions, all over the map from child prostitution to how sensitive our boys are, to the legend of Mary Magdalene voyaging to Provence from the Holy Land, to what appeals to us in a man, all under the rubrique of the Da Vinci Code topic.
Ok so the movie was not a blockbuster and the book was a murder mystery thriller, not a literary masterpiece: I loved both of them! They popularized a topic that many boring academic types have been writing about for years, and found an audience for over 40 million readers (and I don't how many movie-goers). It's been a personal passion of mine to read up on all the books, the goddesses, the gnostic gospels; some are more familiar, i.e. the Christian stories feel like my stories - Eve, Mary, the Madonna - icons that have looked down on me from various portraits or paintings all my life. How to revivify them as female, whole, sexual, spiritual, and human images? Breathe life and energy into the old myths.
Sacred Feminine - that's the mystery at the heart of this class, and at the heart of the huge interest in whether Mary Magdalene was Jesus's lover - like Krishna and Radha, Ram and Sita, the divine feminine and masculine seek each other's arms. Maybe that's what I want, we want, to find that connection with a divine lover within; or even a human lover, a kind, generous thoughtful husband/spouse/lover who will support us, adore us, wash the dishes, read the books we love to talk about, push the baby in a pram (talk about sex appeal!).
I'm rambling here. Thanks to all the friends and people who have told me they read my blog occasionally. Now if I can just figure out how to count all my visitors, I'll feel even more gratified.
Leave a comment will you? don't go by in a rush anonymously peeking....
cotcha!
musemamma
No really, we have fascinating discussions, all over the map from child prostitution to how sensitive our boys are, to the legend of Mary Magdalene voyaging to Provence from the Holy Land, to what appeals to us in a man, all under the rubrique of the Da Vinci Code topic.
Ok so the movie was not a blockbuster and the book was a murder mystery thriller, not a literary masterpiece: I loved both of them! They popularized a topic that many boring academic types have been writing about for years, and found an audience for over 40 million readers (and I don't how many movie-goers). It's been a personal passion of mine to read up on all the books, the goddesses, the gnostic gospels; some are more familiar, i.e. the Christian stories feel like my stories - Eve, Mary, the Madonna - icons that have looked down on me from various portraits or paintings all my life. How to revivify them as female, whole, sexual, spiritual, and human images? Breathe life and energy into the old myths.
Sacred Feminine - that's the mystery at the heart of this class, and at the heart of the huge interest in whether Mary Magdalene was Jesus's lover - like Krishna and Radha, Ram and Sita, the divine feminine and masculine seek each other's arms. Maybe that's what I want, we want, to find that connection with a divine lover within; or even a human lover, a kind, generous thoughtful husband/spouse/lover who will support us, adore us, wash the dishes, read the books we love to talk about, push the baby in a pram (talk about sex appeal!).
I'm rambling here. Thanks to all the friends and people who have told me they read my blog occasionally. Now if I can just figure out how to count all my visitors, I'll feel even more gratified.
Leave a comment will you? don't go by in a rush anonymously peeking....
cotcha!
musemamma
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
My Favourite Valentine
Was it the pretty young host of Global TV's Morning show as she accepted our box of chocolates and silk rose? was it Bernie St-Laurent in his cozy CBC Radio studio laughing in surprise at our Happy Birthday song (after the Valentine's love song) or the man working at Sky Services private jet hangar, blinking to hold back tears as fifteen co-workers flashed their cell phone cameras at him while we sang 'I don't why I love you like I do'.... or was it my husband's teary eyes as we sang to his 86 year old mother in her apartment?
There were so many touching moments over the week of Singing Valentines with Timely Affair Quartet, that it's hard to pick just one as the 'best memory'. We brought love and chocolate (and roses) to the workplace of four unsuspecting men, to a Veteran's hospital, to Canadian Tire, to an import office on Victoria, to an apartment in Westmount and a young eight year old and her Romanian grandparents in Beaconsfield. (Not to mention the trek out to St-Hubert and Chateauguay on Friday). We drove in one of the biggest snowfalls of the winter, and sat in traffic for an hour and a half singing at one point. It seemed the whole week revolved around singing those two valentine songs - even in my dreams. (The second one was "I don't mind, being all alone, when I'm all alone with you.") Songs from the forties that my mother knows and I had never heard of. Songs sung in four-part barbershop harmony by three experienced harmonizers and myself, the newbie.
One of my best memories is of singing in the car, or that is, listening to the bass, baritone and lead parts of Jean, Marion and Nicole, sing all the songs they knew! Gorgeous harmonies, gorgeous voices, deep and rich, melodious and true. The traffic may have been barely moving but we were flying high!
I can't wait to start again next year - and this time, I'm telling all my friends to order a singing valentine!
musemother
There were so many touching moments over the week of Singing Valentines with Timely Affair Quartet, that it's hard to pick just one as the 'best memory'. We brought love and chocolate (and roses) to the workplace of four unsuspecting men, to a Veteran's hospital, to Canadian Tire, to an import office on Victoria, to an apartment in Westmount and a young eight year old and her Romanian grandparents in Beaconsfield. (Not to mention the trek out to St-Hubert and Chateauguay on Friday). We drove in one of the biggest snowfalls of the winter, and sat in traffic for an hour and a half singing at one point. It seemed the whole week revolved around singing those two valentine songs - even in my dreams. (The second one was "I don't mind, being all alone, when I'm all alone with you.") Songs from the forties that my mother knows and I had never heard of. Songs sung in four-part barbershop harmony by three experienced harmonizers and myself, the newbie.
One of my best memories is of singing in the car, or that is, listening to the bass, baritone and lead parts of Jean, Marion and Nicole, sing all the songs they knew! Gorgeous harmonies, gorgeous voices, deep and rich, melodious and true. The traffic may have been barely moving but we were flying high!
I can't wait to start again next year - and this time, I'm telling all my friends to order a singing valentine!
musemother
Monday, February 19, 2007
counting the days until spring
One breath in, one breath out. Surviving the cold. Frigid sunshine, blasts of humid cold bone-chilling pant freezing finger frosting cold.
Ok, I'm counting the days until warm air and spring. My niece, just in today from Halifax but originally from the West Coast, remembers February as time of new buds, green things. Huh! not in Montreal. We searched for a restaurant at noon, and she, without gloves or hat, and I with skinny suede gloves, anyway we both froze.
But to switch topics, the day began well. Yoga class this morning started me off on the right foot, sur le bon pied for my French readers. Breathing, stretching, holding a pose till shaking. Calming down and feeling the energy throbbing in the chest or belly. Kripalu yoga is about being conscious of where the energy is moving in your body we were told, Alright! I feel it. I hold it as long as I can. Then remember to breathe.
Kept me in a smooth space all morning and afternoon, until I came home at 4:00 ish to see piles of newspapers, dusty table - in the sunlight the dust really shows - and 3 baskets of laundry waiting....cat litter, puppy needs out, sigh. I'm fine in my yoga class, alone in my car, typing in my home office, reading in my comfy chair....then life's little homely duties come tapping on my shoulder. Breathe in, breathe out. Counting the days till no more muddy floors and salt stained pant bottoms and boots. Till no more hats, gloves, mittens, scarves, nylon down-filled Michelin Tire type coats. Count your breaths instead of sinking into the blahs.
Just had to get it outta my system. Thinking about next class, and Mary Magdalene - now there's a worthy topic for next blog.
Syonara,
Ok, I'm counting the days until warm air and spring. My niece, just in today from Halifax but originally from the West Coast, remembers February as time of new buds, green things. Huh! not in Montreal. We searched for a restaurant at noon, and she, without gloves or hat, and I with skinny suede gloves, anyway we both froze.
But to switch topics, the day began well. Yoga class this morning started me off on the right foot, sur le bon pied for my French readers. Breathing, stretching, holding a pose till shaking. Calming down and feeling the energy throbbing in the chest or belly. Kripalu yoga is about being conscious of where the energy is moving in your body we were told, Alright! I feel it. I hold it as long as I can. Then remember to breathe.
Kept me in a smooth space all morning and afternoon, until I came home at 4:00 ish to see piles of newspapers, dusty table - in the sunlight the dust really shows - and 3 baskets of laundry waiting....cat litter, puppy needs out, sigh. I'm fine in my yoga class, alone in my car, typing in my home office, reading in my comfy chair....then life's little homely duties come tapping on my shoulder. Breathe in, breathe out. Counting the days till no more muddy floors and salt stained pant bottoms and boots. Till no more hats, gloves, mittens, scarves, nylon down-filled Michelin Tire type coats. Count your breaths instead of sinking into the blahs.
Just had to get it outta my system. Thinking about next class, and Mary Magdalene - now there's a worthy topic for next blog.
Syonara,
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Being myself
I was leading a workshop on the weekend, trying to follow my introductory script, nervous because I had never lead a volunteer participation event like that - when my co-facilitator said something funny. I was writing down our "goals" on the black board (we were doing a bilingual routine on top of it). I automatically, without thinking, said, "Oh you should be a translator, you're so good at this" - and then I thought - Oops, I just forgot about my script about who I am - the facilitator, etc. and talked out loud something I was thinking casually. I was almost embarrassed, as if my slip was showing.
And yet, for a split second I was feeling natural, comfortable in my skin, as the French say (bien dans ma peau), and I just spoke without thinking about the effect on my audience.
A small moment of recognition, but an important one for me. Often, I find myself leading class discussions with the hat of 'teacher' on, or 'English and Mythology Major', or 'housewife' or 'menopausal woman'. I don't think those are my best moments. The book learning comes through, but the human presence is less. Less love, less feeling, less heart. When I talk to my kids, and put on the severe tone of homework-not-done reminder parent, there's not much love and it's very annoying to my teens.
When I forget my serious roles, and just laugh out loud at how happy I am cause my day is going well, or my singing makes me feel good, my daughter (14) looks at me, like "who is this person who's impersonating my mother?". I take my mother role too seriously, it seems.
So reading Eckhart Tole's new book, A New Earth, Awakening to your life's purpose, I was not surprised to read this : "Give up defining yourself-to yourself or to others. You won't die. You will come to life. And don't be concerned with how others define you. When they define you, they are limiting themselves, so it's their problem. Whenever you interact with people, don't be there primarly as a function or a role, but as a field of conscious Presence."
Makes sense, doesn't it? Years ago when I began to meditate, the Indian mahatmas teaching us about the ego, the self, and the bliss within, often used examples and stories to show us that who we are really is not the 'hats' we wear on the outside, but the consciousness within. One of the Indian guys used to call me "Jennifer the Great" when he saw evidence of the ego pushing its way around. Then when the heart was open, he'd call me "Baby Jennifer". It was a cute reminder.
Somehow, ageing, working, studying, mothering, I have become identified with my 'hat's. In those brief moments when I am brave enough to be myself, it feels very freeing to let them go, let the wind twirl them off my head. Be 'baby me' again.
When I allow just being me to be enough. "I am enough" without my hats on. I don't need to change to earn your love, or praise, or good thoughts.
It seems there are always more ways of being enough.
nameste,
And yet, for a split second I was feeling natural, comfortable in my skin, as the French say (bien dans ma peau), and I just spoke without thinking about the effect on my audience.
A small moment of recognition, but an important one for me. Often, I find myself leading class discussions with the hat of 'teacher' on, or 'English and Mythology Major', or 'housewife' or 'menopausal woman'. I don't think those are my best moments. The book learning comes through, but the human presence is less. Less love, less feeling, less heart. When I talk to my kids, and put on the severe tone of homework-not-done reminder parent, there's not much love and it's very annoying to my teens.
When I forget my serious roles, and just laugh out loud at how happy I am cause my day is going well, or my singing makes me feel good, my daughter (14) looks at me, like "who is this person who's impersonating my mother?". I take my mother role too seriously, it seems.
So reading Eckhart Tole's new book, A New Earth, Awakening to your life's purpose, I was not surprised to read this : "Give up defining yourself-to yourself or to others. You won't die. You will come to life. And don't be concerned with how others define you. When they define you, they are limiting themselves, so it's their problem. Whenever you interact with people, don't be there primarly as a function or a role, but as a field of conscious Presence."
Makes sense, doesn't it? Years ago when I began to meditate, the Indian mahatmas teaching us about the ego, the self, and the bliss within, often used examples and stories to show us that who we are really is not the 'hats' we wear on the outside, but the consciousness within. One of the Indian guys used to call me "Jennifer the Great" when he saw evidence of the ego pushing its way around. Then when the heart was open, he'd call me "Baby Jennifer". It was a cute reminder.
Somehow, ageing, working, studying, mothering, I have become identified with my 'hat's. In those brief moments when I am brave enough to be myself, it feels very freeing to let them go, let the wind twirl them off my head. Be 'baby me' again.
When I allow just being me to be enough. "I am enough" without my hats on. I don't need to change to earn your love, or praise, or good thoughts.
It seems there are always more ways of being enough.
nameste,
Thursday, February 08, 2007
poem for the dark goddess
Lilies
dream zooms me to a stone Virgin
in a field, on a mountain side.
her cloak is blackened by fire
she walks before me tall and stern
turns to look at me from inside
her dark hood. I am knees to
the ground trembling and scared,
ready to kiss her feet
or the tips of her fingers.
she tells me my sorrow is too
heavy, and I stutter, Why?
why do the babies have to die?
I throw them back, she says
like fish too small to catch.
she can't stand to see them suffer.
she smiles while I comb and braid
her long red-gold hair
awash in sunlight
in her dressing room fragrant with flowers.
she says, they bring me roses because
I'm tired of lilies
cc Jennifer Boire
Little Mother, Hochelaga Press
dream zooms me to a stone Virgin
in a field, on a mountain side.
her cloak is blackened by fire
she walks before me tall and stern
turns to look at me from inside
her dark hood. I am knees to
the ground trembling and scared,
ready to kiss her feet
or the tips of her fingers.
she tells me my sorrow is too
heavy, and I stutter, Why?
why do the babies have to die?
I throw them back, she says
like fish too small to catch.
she can't stand to see them suffer.
she smiles while I comb and braid
her long red-gold hair
awash in sunlight
in her dressing room fragrant with flowers.
she says, they bring me roses because
I'm tired of lilies
cc Jennifer Boire
Little Mother, Hochelaga Press
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
Singing for Valentines
I should have let you know, oh well it's too late now: my quartet was singing on Global TV this morning on the a.m. show - showing off our Valentine songs. Maybe they'll post it on their web site next week. Sweet Adeline's....
It's only been three weeks since we started practising - although the three other members of my barbershop quartet - have sung together for years.
What a treat - to start the morning with someone doing your make-up and hair! Then many sound checks, and vocalizing warm-ups, before standing under the bright lights and performing our two Valentine songs.
I love to sing - the tenor part is challenging but sounds so pure and crystal clear when the voice is 'on' and warmed up. With rich baritone, bass and lead singing beautiful harmonies, voices melding richly, it's yummy!
I love singing, have always loved singing, and pure joy comes out of it, when we get it right. It's good for the heart.
Have a lovely Valentine's Day. Give someone you love a treat and sing them a love song, straight into their eyes!
blushing,
musemother
It's only been three weeks since we started practising - although the three other members of my barbershop quartet - have sung together for years.
What a treat - to start the morning with someone doing your make-up and hair! Then many sound checks, and vocalizing warm-ups, before standing under the bright lights and performing our two Valentine songs.
I love to sing - the tenor part is challenging but sounds so pure and crystal clear when the voice is 'on' and warmed up. With rich baritone, bass and lead singing beautiful harmonies, voices melding richly, it's yummy!
I love singing, have always loved singing, and pure joy comes out of it, when we get it right. It's good for the heart.
Have a lovely Valentine's Day. Give someone you love a treat and sing them a love song, straight into their eyes!
blushing,
musemother
Thursday, February 01, 2007
Valuing the work I do at home
Lately, I find myself answering the question of what do I do all day by saying, I work at home.
That covers it all: volunteer work, organizing the women's circle speakers, preparing classes for Embracing the Feminine, driving my kids to and fro, walking the dog, laundry, housecleaning and meal preparation, phone calls to replace missing objects like telephones and remote controllers, fixing watches...anyway you get the picture.
It may not be paid work, but it is work that keeps me busy, that keeps the household running smoothly, and food in the fridge and on the table. Plus I have the pleasure of being here at 3:30 when my teens get home from school, to nod at them briefly as they pass through the kitchen.
I asked my women's centre class today how they reconciled mothering with feminism. I got some interesting answers. The thing that bugged these mothers the most was the lack of public recognition for women's work at home, and also their husband's assumption (and sometimes a mother or mother-in-law's too) that we have it so easy, we have nothing to do all day, since we have time to take classes and do yoga. That it's not seen as 'real' work to be a full-time mother.
I don't know when I stopped being mad at my husband for not being an equal partner in the child and house-care department - probably the same year he started spending his weekends skiing or golfing with two teens, or was it when he decided to pay for a cleaning lady? We do have a traditional set-up, in the sense that he works outside the home, and I work inside it. But my work as a writer and teacher (part-time) has always been valued too. And he knows better than to make snide comments - he knows how demanding it is to be a mom.
It's not the mothering part that I don't value - at least theoretically, I think it's the most important job on the planet - to raise kids to be kind, compassionate, helpful (ok maybe some of the time) human beings. But housework - or keeping a spotless house was never my goal, nor my mother's.
Maybe that's why the Greek goddess I am drawn most to is Hestia - not because I am like her, nor because of images I have of her - there are none - but because she made housework sacred: she kept the home-fires burning. In the days before electricity or coal, that was an all important task if you wanted a hot meal or heat in the house.
She was called Vesta in Rome, where the Vestal Virgins kept the perpetual flame alight, symbol of the heart of the Empire.
Within the home, the hearth was her altar, the fire having been brought in a torch from the bride's mother's residence to light their first household fire, and make a connection to the ancestors. Vesta or Hestia also symbolized the centre of the world and the innermost mysteries - the sacred space within. (Pamela Matthews, Goddess cards)
In order for a house to become a home, Hestia's presence is required. She symbolizes intactness or wholeness, the one-in-herself quality. (Goddesses in Everywoman, Jean Shinoda Bolen).
According to Bolen, taking care of the details of housekeeping is a centering activity for Hestia types, equivalent to meditation. A woman with a Hestia archetype gets a feeling of inner peace from what she is doing, just like a nun in the service of God.
Well, I'd like to call in that archetype, to balance the Artemis in me. Here's to Hestia and housework, and to tomorrow's little ground hog seeing his shadow....
best,
musemother
That covers it all: volunteer work, organizing the women's circle speakers, preparing classes for Embracing the Feminine, driving my kids to and fro, walking the dog, laundry, housecleaning and meal preparation, phone calls to replace missing objects like telephones and remote controllers, fixing watches...anyway you get the picture.
It may not be paid work, but it is work that keeps me busy, that keeps the household running smoothly, and food in the fridge and on the table. Plus I have the pleasure of being here at 3:30 when my teens get home from school, to nod at them briefly as they pass through the kitchen.
I asked my women's centre class today how they reconciled mothering with feminism. I got some interesting answers. The thing that bugged these mothers the most was the lack of public recognition for women's work at home, and also their husband's assumption (and sometimes a mother or mother-in-law's too) that we have it so easy, we have nothing to do all day, since we have time to take classes and do yoga. That it's not seen as 'real' work to be a full-time mother.
I don't know when I stopped being mad at my husband for not being an equal partner in the child and house-care department - probably the same year he started spending his weekends skiing or golfing with two teens, or was it when he decided to pay for a cleaning lady? We do have a traditional set-up, in the sense that he works outside the home, and I work inside it. But my work as a writer and teacher (part-time) has always been valued too. And he knows better than to make snide comments - he knows how demanding it is to be a mom.
It's not the mothering part that I don't value - at least theoretically, I think it's the most important job on the planet - to raise kids to be kind, compassionate, helpful (ok maybe some of the time) human beings. But housework - or keeping a spotless house was never my goal, nor my mother's.
Maybe that's why the Greek goddess I am drawn most to is Hestia - not because I am like her, nor because of images I have of her - there are none - but because she made housework sacred: she kept the home-fires burning. In the days before electricity or coal, that was an all important task if you wanted a hot meal or heat in the house.
She was called Vesta in Rome, where the Vestal Virgins kept the perpetual flame alight, symbol of the heart of the Empire.
Within the home, the hearth was her altar, the fire having been brought in a torch from the bride's mother's residence to light their first household fire, and make a connection to the ancestors. Vesta or Hestia also symbolized the centre of the world and the innermost mysteries - the sacred space within. (Pamela Matthews, Goddess cards)
In order for a house to become a home, Hestia's presence is required. She symbolizes intactness or wholeness, the one-in-herself quality. (Goddesses in Everywoman, Jean Shinoda Bolen).
According to Bolen, taking care of the details of housekeeping is a centering activity for Hestia types, equivalent to meditation. A woman with a Hestia archetype gets a feeling of inner peace from what she is doing, just like a nun in the service of God.
Well, I'd like to call in that archetype, to balance the Artemis in me. Here's to Hestia and housework, and to tomorrow's little ground hog seeing his shadow....
best,
musemother
Friday, January 19, 2007
Women's stories
Have you seen Dreamgirls yet? I came out of there with tears in my eyes, after seeing a feel-good movie with an uplifting message about women triumphing over manipulative men in the dog-eat-dog world of music business.
That Jennifer Hudson can really really sing. I'm in a choir singing barbershop, and lately our director has been teaching us about feeling, singing with heart. I learned a lot from watching Jennifer sing her swan song, leaving the snake, and from Beyonce at the end of the movie, singing her Listen to me song.
Whew! heart and soul....when they join up with powerful pipes, it makes you want to weep.
What else made me feel good this week was leading a class with some outstanding women at the WIWC. We all are learning to embrace our feminine side - the power, the magic, the life-giving mothering intuitive compassionate energy that resides in us and wants to be heard!
I'm also grateful for my women's circle - six of us met this week and sat over tea, listening to whoever had something important to tell, a daughter in need of help, a mother distraught about making a man listen to her, women who think they need fixing at a fitness club - we all had stories to tell each other. Women's stories, your stories, my stories. The ones we tell over tea or coffee, and in the old days, a cigarette.
I am grateful for women who listen, women who open up and share, women who want to help. Friendships, tending and befriending, the little miracles of hugs and tears, finding support, succour, sweetness in the bottom of a tea cup.
Amen, and thanks to all you women friends,
musemother
That Jennifer Hudson can really really sing. I'm in a choir singing barbershop, and lately our director has been teaching us about feeling, singing with heart. I learned a lot from watching Jennifer sing her swan song, leaving the snake, and from Beyonce at the end of the movie, singing her Listen to me song.
Whew! heart and soul....when they join up with powerful pipes, it makes you want to weep.
What else made me feel good this week was leading a class with some outstanding women at the WIWC. We all are learning to embrace our feminine side - the power, the magic, the life-giving mothering intuitive compassionate energy that resides in us and wants to be heard!
I'm also grateful for my women's circle - six of us met this week and sat over tea, listening to whoever had something important to tell, a daughter in need of help, a mother distraught about making a man listen to her, women who think they need fixing at a fitness club - we all had stories to tell each other. Women's stories, your stories, my stories. The ones we tell over tea or coffee, and in the old days, a cigarette.
I am grateful for women who listen, women who open up and share, women who want to help. Friendships, tending and befriending, the little miracles of hugs and tears, finding support, succour, sweetness in the bottom of a tea cup.
Amen, and thanks to all you women friends,
musemother
Monday, January 15, 2007
Snowy peace
I never thought I'd be so happy to see snow!
It's been over a month since our last bit of whiteness on the lawn, and today glorious drifts are piling up.
Trees are covered in white, cedar hedges bending with the extra weight. And as long as one stays indoors, it's lovely to contemplate.
Peaceful....or is it just calm? Listening to Maharaji in Dallas on Saturday, he said something that peaked my curiousity. 'Calm is not peace.' When you see a landscape that is quiet, or you feel calm inside, that is not necessarily peace. At least not the same peace he is talking about.
Hmmmmm....it's true there is a question of presence, of the mind being aborbed and focussed, not just quiet. It hardly ever is quiet. Sitting in meditation this morning I felt peaceful, excited, tranquil, serene.....actually words don't do it justice, do they? But I wouldn't have called it calm.
On some busy days, with too many alarms going off about what to do, errands and phone calls and business sending me scurrying, frantic.....even a feeling of calm would do.
But the thirst in my heart is for more than just a calm day. You can be too calm, be-calmed in the flat waters with no wind, no movement, as Maharaji described it.
I think peace is something else. Peace answers the thirst of the heart for life, energy; it comes with a quickening of the heart, a light that dances in the eyes like the look a newborn gives her mother. Peace reaches deep inside of me and awakens me from torpor, from absence, fills my pores with presence.
Hmmmm. Let there be peace,
greetings,
jenn
musemother
It's been over a month since our last bit of whiteness on the lawn, and today glorious drifts are piling up.
Trees are covered in white, cedar hedges bending with the extra weight. And as long as one stays indoors, it's lovely to contemplate.
Peaceful....or is it just calm? Listening to Maharaji in Dallas on Saturday, he said something that peaked my curiousity. 'Calm is not peace.' When you see a landscape that is quiet, or you feel calm inside, that is not necessarily peace. At least not the same peace he is talking about.
Hmmmmm....it's true there is a question of presence, of the mind being aborbed and focussed, not just quiet. It hardly ever is quiet. Sitting in meditation this morning I felt peaceful, excited, tranquil, serene.....actually words don't do it justice, do they? But I wouldn't have called it calm.
On some busy days, with too many alarms going off about what to do, errands and phone calls and business sending me scurrying, frantic.....even a feeling of calm would do.
But the thirst in my heart is for more than just a calm day. You can be too calm, be-calmed in the flat waters with no wind, no movement, as Maharaji described it.
I think peace is something else. Peace answers the thirst of the heart for life, energy; it comes with a quickening of the heart, a light that dances in the eyes like the look a newborn gives her mother. Peace reaches deep inside of me and awakens me from torpor, from absence, fills my pores with presence.
Hmmmm. Let there be peace,
greetings,
jenn
musemother
Thursday, January 11, 2007
Sacred Mind
more from Anne Baring's web site:
...beneath the levels of consiousness where our minds are separate and distinct are depths where they begin to interpenetrate until they eventually are enfolded with the undivided Sacred Mind itself....
"...awakening inside Sacred Mind slowly sensitizes one to the face that this Mind permeates every aspect of life. It is the medium within which we all exist, the mental field within which all minds meet.
...It is the awakening of humanity as a whole that is the current project of history; nothing less will satisfy the Creative Principle.
"I believe that this divine marriage of Individuality and Essential Ground, of the Masculine and Feminine, of samsara and nirvana is the dawn that humanity's dark night is driving toward. This is the dawn that, if successfully navigated, will unite human kind and elevate us into a form that has never before walked this Earth: a humanity healed of the scars of history...a people with new capacities born in the chaos of near extinction....
and when this moment finally comes, I deeply believe that, like all mothers before us, we will count our pain a small price. This birth is our gift to the Creator."
something to think about - aside from An Inconvenient Truth and the perils of climate change, global warming - maybe there is a purpose to this 'crisis' of planetary proportions.
namaste,
musemother
...beneath the levels of consiousness where our minds are separate and distinct are depths where they begin to interpenetrate until they eventually are enfolded with the undivided Sacred Mind itself....
"...awakening inside Sacred Mind slowly sensitizes one to the face that this Mind permeates every aspect of life. It is the medium within which we all exist, the mental field within which all minds meet.
...It is the awakening of humanity as a whole that is the current project of history; nothing less will satisfy the Creative Principle.
"I believe that this divine marriage of Individuality and Essential Ground, of the Masculine and Feminine, of samsara and nirvana is the dawn that humanity's dark night is driving toward. This is the dawn that, if successfully navigated, will unite human kind and elevate us into a form that has never before walked this Earth: a humanity healed of the scars of history...a people with new capacities born in the chaos of near extinction....
and when this moment finally comes, I deeply believe that, like all mothers before us, we will count our pain a small price. This birth is our gift to the Creator."
something to think about - aside from An Inconvenient Truth and the perils of climate change, global warming - maybe there is a purpose to this 'crisis' of planetary proportions.
namaste,
musemother
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Why is the Divine Mother image important?
Researching material on the Divine Mother today, for a course starting next week, I found a wonderful series of excerpts from a book by Anne Baring and Andrew Harvey,The Divine Feminine. I type it out here for you because it struck me so profoundly that our dis-ease in this world at war has a connection to our longing for the feminine to play a larger role.
excerpt: "Why is the image of the Divine Mother so important? To answer this question, we need look no further than our experience of birth into the world. First of all, there is the experience of the embryo in the womb; the experience of union or fusion and containment within a watery, nurturing matrix. After the traumatic experience of birth and the sudden and violent explusion from this matrix, the prolongation of the earlier feelings of close relatinship, trust and safety is absolutely vital.
"Without the consistent and loving care of the mother in early childhood, the child has no trust in itself, no power to survive negative life experiences, no model from which to learn how to nurture and support itself or to care for its children in turn. Its primary response to life is anxiety and fear. It is like a tree with no roots, easily torn up by a storm. Its instincts have been traumatized and damaged.
"With the love of the mother and trust in her presence, the child grows in strength and confidence and delight in itself and in life. Its primary response is trust.
"Without this experience, life becomes threatening, terrifying. Without it the effort of living exhausts and dispirits. Intense and constant anxiety means that there is no resting place, no solace for loneliness, no feeling that life is something to be trusted, enjoyed; that it loves, helps, guides and supports us.
"Without this positive image of the feminine, fear, like a deadly parasite, invades the soul and weakens the body. Those cultures which have no image of the Mother in the god-head are vulnerable to immensely powerful unconscious feelings of fear and anxiety, particularly when the emphasis of their religious teaching is on sin and guilt. The compensation to this fear is an insatiable need for power and control over life.
"How hungry the human heart is for an image of a Divine Mother that would, like an umbilical cord, re-connect it to the Womb of Being, restoring the lost sense of trust and containment in a dimension which may be beyond the reach of our intellect, yet is accessible to us through our deepest instincts.
"....it is the image of the Divine Mother that heals and consoles, sustains and encourages; the image that awakens the feeling of trust and containment because it reflects our personal experience of our containment in the womb and our earliest human relationship.
"This is why the image of the Divine Feminine is returning to us now, to help us recover not only our sense of trust in life but also the relationship with a dimension of consciousness that we have, in our drive to be in control of life, ignored.....
taken from the The Divine Feminine, Anne Baring and Andrew Harvey, a book worth reading!
musemother
excerpt: "Why is the image of the Divine Mother so important? To answer this question, we need look no further than our experience of birth into the world. First of all, there is the experience of the embryo in the womb; the experience of union or fusion and containment within a watery, nurturing matrix. After the traumatic experience of birth and the sudden and violent explusion from this matrix, the prolongation of the earlier feelings of close relatinship, trust and safety is absolutely vital.
"Without the consistent and loving care of the mother in early childhood, the child has no trust in itself, no power to survive negative life experiences, no model from which to learn how to nurture and support itself or to care for its children in turn. Its primary response to life is anxiety and fear. It is like a tree with no roots, easily torn up by a storm. Its instincts have been traumatized and damaged.
"With the love of the mother and trust in her presence, the child grows in strength and confidence and delight in itself and in life. Its primary response is trust.
"Without this experience, life becomes threatening, terrifying. Without it the effort of living exhausts and dispirits. Intense and constant anxiety means that there is no resting place, no solace for loneliness, no feeling that life is something to be trusted, enjoyed; that it loves, helps, guides and supports us.
"Without this positive image of the feminine, fear, like a deadly parasite, invades the soul and weakens the body. Those cultures which have no image of the Mother in the god-head are vulnerable to immensely powerful unconscious feelings of fear and anxiety, particularly when the emphasis of their religious teaching is on sin and guilt. The compensation to this fear is an insatiable need for power and control over life.
"How hungry the human heart is for an image of a Divine Mother that would, like an umbilical cord, re-connect it to the Womb of Being, restoring the lost sense of trust and containment in a dimension which may be beyond the reach of our intellect, yet is accessible to us through our deepest instincts.
"....it is the image of the Divine Mother that heals and consoles, sustains and encourages; the image that awakens the feeling of trust and containment because it reflects our personal experience of our containment in the womb and our earliest human relationship.
"This is why the image of the Divine Feminine is returning to us now, to help us recover not only our sense of trust in life but also the relationship with a dimension of consciousness that we have, in our drive to be in control of life, ignored.....
taken from the The Divine Feminine, Anne Baring and Andrew Harvey, a book worth reading!
musemother
Monday, January 08, 2007
Great Mother dialogue Essential Wisdom
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
“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
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
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