First off, it seems that y'all like the idea of Meeting at the Water every month on the New Moon, to which I say, "Woohoo!" I, personally, love the idea of making it a monthly healing ritual. After all, I think most of us felt the sense of connection, which is vital in our community (more on that in a sec) PLUS Mother Ocean isn't healed yet. Nor are the rivers, the streams, the swamps, the bogs...etc. I'll write more about this as the Moon wanes, I think, but for now, let's spread the word again: We'll meet at the water on July 11th!
Now, about community: a few days ago, I was thinking about the Christian Creation story. And I realized that a good portion of this story is devoted to expunging the idea of woman as a source of life (Adam came from dirt, Eve came from him) and advancing the idea that evil comes from women (the whole Tree of Knowledge thing and Cain.) I guess I had always known this subconsciously, but I never really thought it out this way. This lead me to think about other Creation myths and, specifically, the place of female deities in them. Creation myths, more than anything (in my opinion--Cora might be able to help me out here), help delineate our cultural backgrounds. If you look closely at many Creation myths, you find the outline for social standings linked to the behavior of the gods or the first people. (One Japanese Creation myth I was reading about cited Creative failures due to the female deity speaking first during sex. For real.) This makes a lot of sense, if you think about it. It's important for people to believe that the gods or goddesses who created them knew what they were doing and were creating a blueprint for how people should act.
This line of thought--Hi, I'm a huge nerd. Does it make it better that I was walking on the beach and/or sipping hard apple cider while doing some of the thinking?--lead to me contemplating that so many of us in the Pagan community rely on British Celtic or Gaelic holidays and observances to guide our practice. I don't know exactly why I started thinking about this...maybe because there is so little written about British Celtic Creationism? (Say it fast five times.) Or maybe because I'm nuts. Who knows? Anyway, there I was thinking about that and mulling it over and gnawing on it late at night.
Here's the thing: I think I've been forcing too much on myself that doesn't gibe with what I believe as a Pagan. The need for community is SOOO strong for me, probably because I'm so isolated in my real community that I've been trying so hard to get excited about the same things many of you do. But the truth is that calling the Solstices names doesn't really gibe with me right now. I mean, I get that it makes sense for some folks to celebrate Yule and the Holly King/Oak King battle, but...for me, it feels as made up as anything Christian. This is NOT meant to insult anybody--Pagan, Christian, or otherwise. This is just me thinking out loud. I UNDERSTAND why people have these beliefs and think they're lovely, but I've realized that for me, right now, in this spiritual place, I need less. Not that I need less than other people, but that me, NotHannah, needs to have fewer complications in my spiritual self. (Whew. It's hard trying not to insult people you care about. If I haven't been clear, let me know.)
I'm paring down my practice, in other words. I'm becoming very Elemental, working with and exploring the power and magic of Fire, Water, Earth, and Air. I am trying to pay more attention to the Moon and Sun cycles, trying to note the Solstices and Equinoxes with something that means something to ME and my family.
Which brings me around to Santa. And Christmas and Easter and Halloween, etc. A few months ago, I caught the tail end of a fairly heated debate about Pagans celebrating Christian holidays. Or maybe the issue was Pagans celebrating Pagan AND Christian holidays. Anyway, the blogger who started the conversation was fairly upset about Pagans celebrating Easter and Christmas and the physical trappings that come with it. I read the debate with interest, but stayed out of it, because I felt like I needed to do some thinking about it. (Shocking, I know. NotHannah THINK? Heh.) One line of thought was that if you were going to call yourself Pagan, when the middle of December rolled around, you needed to be celebrating Yule.
Hold up, y'all. I don't want to celebrate Yule as an Elemental Pagan. (Do you see that? I think I just invented a sect. Woohoo!) Yule has its history in Germanic tribes in Northern Europe and there are theories it might go back to IndoEuropean roots, but honestly, there isn't anything I can relate to with it. Now, I love the IDEA of a big old chunk of wood in my fireplace representing the Sun making a return as the hours of sunlight get longer, but in reality, I think I just like the idea of a big old chunk of wood in my fireplace and a mug of hot chocolate to go with it. I'm much more comfortable with thinking on Dr. Judith Rich's GORGEOUS essay about the Winter Solstice as a means for coming up with a ritual than trying anything else that so many of my Pagan friends embrace with joy. (Again, let me say GOOD for them. Follow your bliss, my lovies.)
You know what I embrace with joy? The idea of a dude jumping down my chimney loaded down with enough candy and toys to make my kids delirious with happiness. The secrets my family keeps from each other during Christmas time. The laughs as my children find Easter eggs stuck in trees or in Frodo's water dish. And, yes, I know the spiritual significance of each holiday. However, I also know the cultural significance of each. Just as early Christians took liberties with native beliefs to sell the idea of Christ, modern Americans (and perhaps those in other cultures--can somebody let me know?) are taking liberties to create a holiday that is separate from the Christian stories. Think about how incensed some Christians get when people try to take the "Christ out of Christmas." Some Christians are so desperate to maintain the grip on December 25th that I've started to see pictures of Santa kneeling at the manger. (Which, honestly, makes me want to barf. How ridiculous is that mess?) My point is that Christmas is evolving into two separate celebrations--and so is Easter. So is (or did) Halloween. As a Pagan, I reserve the right to celebrate the secular holidays that are part of my culture with joy and want to be afforded respect by my fellow Pagans if I do so.
Wow. Um. Yeah.
This is how my mind works, people. I'm fairly sure tomorrow it'll be something new, perhaps involving working with crystals and/or incorporating aliens into your spell work. Sheesh.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Sunday, June 20, 2010
What Happened At the Water
Hey, everybody! It's been a week and a day and although I'm water-logged and think I STILL have sand in a few crevices, I thought I'd share what happened for me at the water. I hope you'll share in the comments or, even better, write about it on your blog and let us know about it!
We arrived on the island around 4:30 in the afternoon. Jeffrey started grousing almost as soon as we got there about going down to the beach (I had promised him we would) and so as soon as we got everything unloaded, we threw off our shoes, grabbed Nevvy, and headed down the boardwalk.
It was the perfect time of day when we got there: the water was cool, the air was warm, and the light had that crisp, rosy glow of late afternoon. At first, the kidlets were content to splash around in the surf, running away from the waves as they crashed in. But, because they are human boy children, eventually it became too much for them and they went nuts, rolling around in the waves like little dolphins.
As I watched them, standing in the shifting sands, I took a mental snapshot of how the water shone on their cheeks and backs, how their faces lit up in sheer happiness.
And then, for no reason, the chant I'd come up with for the evening ritual popped into my head. "Stop that," I told it sternly, "You need to wait til tonight." But it persisted, niggling around in my brain as I watched Nevvy and Jeffrey act like...well, kids. "This isn't profound," I said. "This isn't a MOMENT. I don't even have my Mother Stone with me."
But it came to me that, somewhere in the world, some of y'all were already chanting or dancing or praying quietly and that now was a fine time for me to join in. After all, I was a Mother in that moment, too, watching my baby and my family, enjoying their joy but still watchful, still ready to rescue if needed.
So, under my breath, I sang the little chant (more on that later.) I did it over and over again and I felt good about it: strong and deep and connected to others like me all over the world. I couldn't wait for the night to fall so I could feel that feeling all over again.
Accordingly, after the kidlets were snug in bed, Will and I headed down to the beach. Two things here: it was pitch black and Will was recovering from a severe ankle strain. I was so happy he joined me, even if in his head, it was just to offer some manly (if limping) protection against phantom dangers. The fact that he accepted what I wanted to do meant the world to me.
In my pockets, I carried my Mother stone and a huge, ancient shark's tooth I'd found on the island years ago. Depositing Will under a deserted tent, I headed down to the water and knelt down just out of reach of the surf. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and....
Nothing.
The chant which had carried me through the afternoon had apparently decided to take a little vacation. I remember it now (Water above and water below, water from whom all our lives flow, peace and love I give to thee, strength and love to heal the sea), but that night, it was gone. I tried, a few times, to get it going, but nothing doing.
Hmm. Okay, then. I'd just do something else. I tried envisioning a golden light inside me. Nope. A white one...nada. A pink one? Dang, where was my glow? Stuffing my talismans back in my pocket, I stood up and went to the surf, laying my hands just on the surface. I sent out a question (What the heck am I supposed to do here?) and I got back JOY.
I felt, despite the horror and worry I'd felt for a month and a half, a pulse of pure, unadulterated joy race through me. It brought me to my feet fast and I looked out over the dark water and laughed. I felt like I was at a slumber party with a few hundred friends and we were all at that giddy place past the gossiping and airing of grievances where the only thing left to do was just laugh and laugh and laugh. I threw back my arms and closed my eyes and yelled, "Wooohoooo!" And then I took off running through the surf. I danced and spun and raced through the water, feeling like a child. Feeling like a woman. A mother. It was freeing and lovely and totally NOT what I thought it would be. And it was okay. It was RIGHT.
Of course, then I had to make my way back to Will in the pitch dark, which made me giggle some more. When I finally got back to him, he pointed out the couple in backpacks who had gone and stood by the water, then returned to the drier sand to smooch. I wondered, as I sat in the sand with my own sweetie, if they were meeting at the water, too. It seemed indecorous to ask, what with the smooching.
I thought a lot about the experience over the week as I walked along the beach. Why had the chant gone awry? Why had I not had a more soulful time down by the water? Finally, on the afternoon of the last day, I realized that I HAD. All of the rage and horror and sorrow I feel is appropriate and real. But it's the joy that Mother Ocean gives me that must carry me to action. And it's GOOD to be happy. It's good to feel connected with friends as a woman and solo practitioner.
This realization made me think, "What if we kept it going?" The idea has merits: every New Moon, we meet at the water. We offer healing and strength and love and, maybe best of all, communion to our planet. But, I worried...was it asking too much? Is it being greedy? Is it making too much of a ritual out of something that maybe needs to be less ritualized?
Last night, I came back home and read more of your comments and realized that some of you had "missed" the ritual and that you still wanted to be a part of it. And I thought that while all of us directing good energy at our planet and its waters is good at any time, maybe that communion I sensed on the New Moon is even better. I haven't talked to my sweet SS about this, but...what do y'all think? Could we make it a "thing?" Should we? There are risks involved in it, as well as rewards.
All I'm saying is that if you want to meet at the water every month, I'm in. As it is, I got so much and GAVE so much last Saturday that I think I'm going to continue it on my own.
Thank you so much, my friends. I am awed by your friendship and love and power. I truly enjoyed meeting you at the water.
We arrived on the island around 4:30 in the afternoon. Jeffrey started grousing almost as soon as we got there about going down to the beach (I had promised him we would) and so as soon as we got everything unloaded, we threw off our shoes, grabbed Nevvy, and headed down the boardwalk.
It was the perfect time of day when we got there: the water was cool, the air was warm, and the light had that crisp, rosy glow of late afternoon. At first, the kidlets were content to splash around in the surf, running away from the waves as they crashed in. But, because they are human boy children, eventually it became too much for them and they went nuts, rolling around in the waves like little dolphins.
As I watched them, standing in the shifting sands, I took a mental snapshot of how the water shone on their cheeks and backs, how their faces lit up in sheer happiness.
And then, for no reason, the chant I'd come up with for the evening ritual popped into my head. "Stop that," I told it sternly, "You need to wait til tonight." But it persisted, niggling around in my brain as I watched Nevvy and Jeffrey act like...well, kids. "This isn't profound," I said. "This isn't a MOMENT. I don't even have my Mother Stone with me."
But it came to me that, somewhere in the world, some of y'all were already chanting or dancing or praying quietly and that now was a fine time for me to join in. After all, I was a Mother in that moment, too, watching my baby and my family, enjoying their joy but still watchful, still ready to rescue if needed.
So, under my breath, I sang the little chant (more on that later.) I did it over and over again and I felt good about it: strong and deep and connected to others like me all over the world. I couldn't wait for the night to fall so I could feel that feeling all over again.
Accordingly, after the kidlets were snug in bed, Will and I headed down to the beach. Two things here: it was pitch black and Will was recovering from a severe ankle strain. I was so happy he joined me, even if in his head, it was just to offer some manly (if limping) protection against phantom dangers. The fact that he accepted what I wanted to do meant the world to me.
In my pockets, I carried my Mother stone and a huge, ancient shark's tooth I'd found on the island years ago. Depositing Will under a deserted tent, I headed down to the water and knelt down just out of reach of the surf. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and....
Nothing.
The chant which had carried me through the afternoon had apparently decided to take a little vacation. I remember it now (Water above and water below, water from whom all our lives flow, peace and love I give to thee, strength and love to heal the sea), but that night, it was gone. I tried, a few times, to get it going, but nothing doing.
Hmm. Okay, then. I'd just do something else. I tried envisioning a golden light inside me. Nope. A white one...nada. A pink one? Dang, where was my glow? Stuffing my talismans back in my pocket, I stood up and went to the surf, laying my hands just on the surface. I sent out a question (What the heck am I supposed to do here?) and I got back JOY.
I felt, despite the horror and worry I'd felt for a month and a half, a pulse of pure, unadulterated joy race through me. It brought me to my feet fast and I looked out over the dark water and laughed. I felt like I was at a slumber party with a few hundred friends and we were all at that giddy place past the gossiping and airing of grievances where the only thing left to do was just laugh and laugh and laugh. I threw back my arms and closed my eyes and yelled, "Wooohoooo!" And then I took off running through the surf. I danced and spun and raced through the water, feeling like a child. Feeling like a woman. A mother. It was freeing and lovely and totally NOT what I thought it would be. And it was okay. It was RIGHT.
Of course, then I had to make my way back to Will in the pitch dark, which made me giggle some more. When I finally got back to him, he pointed out the couple in backpacks who had gone and stood by the water, then returned to the drier sand to smooch. I wondered, as I sat in the sand with my own sweetie, if they were meeting at the water, too. It seemed indecorous to ask, what with the smooching.
I thought a lot about the experience over the week as I walked along the beach. Why had the chant gone awry? Why had I not had a more soulful time down by the water? Finally, on the afternoon of the last day, I realized that I HAD. All of the rage and horror and sorrow I feel is appropriate and real. But it's the joy that Mother Ocean gives me that must carry me to action. And it's GOOD to be happy. It's good to feel connected with friends as a woman and solo practitioner.
This realization made me think, "What if we kept it going?" The idea has merits: every New Moon, we meet at the water. We offer healing and strength and love and, maybe best of all, communion to our planet. But, I worried...was it asking too much? Is it being greedy? Is it making too much of a ritual out of something that maybe needs to be less ritualized?
Last night, I came back home and read more of your comments and realized that some of you had "missed" the ritual and that you still wanted to be a part of it. And I thought that while all of us directing good energy at our planet and its waters is good at any time, maybe that communion I sensed on the New Moon is even better. I haven't talked to my sweet SS about this, but...what do y'all think? Could we make it a "thing?" Should we? There are risks involved in it, as well as rewards.
All I'm saying is that if you want to meet at the water every month, I'm in. As it is, I got so much and GAVE so much last Saturday that I think I'm going to continue it on my own.
Thank you so much, my friends. I am awed by your friendship and love and power. I truly enjoyed meeting you at the water.
Friday, June 11, 2010
Counting Down
Hey, lovies! The time is closing in on the New Moon. (And some of you might already be experiencing it...are you? Time zones make me dizzy.) We've gotten a few questions about what to DO at the water when we get there.
Here are some thoughts:
First, Blade and Cauldron came up with a simply gorgeous chant that I think you could use anywhere: at your kitchen table with a bowl of water, in the swimming pool, the creek, river, ocean, mud puddle in the back yard....you get the drift. I'll probably, knowing me, come up with something on the spot, although I love B&C's melody.
I think that, for me, I'm going to want to include the elements. Water, Earth, and Wind are fairly easy at the beach, but I don't know what I'll do for Fire. Maybe grab some incense? Lavender or rosemary would do well in this case, I think.
I'll carry with me my "Mother" stone and I think I'll scout the beach for any "signs"--maybe I'll bring the big shark's tooth I found on the island a few years ago. That would be pretty powerful for ME personally.
I've been thinking a lot about containing the strength and love I'm sending out. I'm considering finding a shell as a holding place for it and then wading out and letting it slip into the water. I might dance around on the sand or turn cartwheels or simply sit quietly and just be with Her.
As I've said, for me rituals like this tend to be very in the moment. And to be honest, I'm not sure that WHAT we're saying or doing is as important as the fact that we're doing it. We're DOING it.
I know I've mentioned this, but I want to say again how truly inspired and blessed I am by you all. I didn't expect this response. I wrote what I wrote to give voice to my anger and in return, I have been soothed by hundreds of voices reaching out to me and to Mother Ocean. It's just...nuts, frankly.
Can I say it now? THIS IS CRAZY!!!!! Are you KIDDING me with how awesome people can be? Wooohooooooo!! You rock!!!
(Sorry. Just had to get that out.)
I've got to go pack now and bake in preparation for our trip. I'll probably be able to post on Twitter (I'm NotHannah, obviously), but I don't know if I'll be able to do anything more than that while we're on the island. Just know that I'll be thinking of you while I'm at the water and being thankful for every one of you.
Here are some thoughts:
First, Blade and Cauldron came up with a simply gorgeous chant that I think you could use anywhere: at your kitchen table with a bowl of water, in the swimming pool, the creek, river, ocean, mud puddle in the back yard....you get the drift. I'll probably, knowing me, come up with something on the spot, although I love B&C's melody.
I think that, for me, I'm going to want to include the elements. Water, Earth, and Wind are fairly easy at the beach, but I don't know what I'll do for Fire. Maybe grab some incense? Lavender or rosemary would do well in this case, I think.
I'll carry with me my "Mother" stone and I think I'll scout the beach for any "signs"--maybe I'll bring the big shark's tooth I found on the island a few years ago. That would be pretty powerful for ME personally.
I've been thinking a lot about containing the strength and love I'm sending out. I'm considering finding a shell as a holding place for it and then wading out and letting it slip into the water. I might dance around on the sand or turn cartwheels or simply sit quietly and just be with Her.
As I've said, for me rituals like this tend to be very in the moment. And to be honest, I'm not sure that WHAT we're saying or doing is as important as the fact that we're doing it. We're DOING it.
I know I've mentioned this, but I want to say again how truly inspired and blessed I am by you all. I didn't expect this response. I wrote what I wrote to give voice to my anger and in return, I have been soothed by hundreds of voices reaching out to me and to Mother Ocean. It's just...nuts, frankly.
Can I say it now? THIS IS CRAZY!!!!! Are you KIDDING me with how awesome people can be? Wooohooooooo!! You rock!!!
(Sorry. Just had to get that out.)
I've got to go pack now and bake in preparation for our trip. I'll probably be able to post on Twitter (I'm NotHannah, obviously), but I don't know if I'll be able to do anything more than that while we're on the island. Just know that I'll be thinking of you while I'm at the water and being thankful for every one of you.
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Good News Travels Fast
Again, thank you SO much for your excitement and passion for this...movement. I am thrilled with the new followers and all of the comments and as I visit your blogs I am just SO JAZZED.
I noticed today that we have a few non-Pagans who are joining us and I have to say that this just tickles me pink. MAGENTA, even. I wrote this post in the heat of anger and I am so happy that those of you who are Christians saw through the anger to the heart of me. Bless you for that. Please spread the word!
My beautiful Selma wrote this piece of fiction with the Gulf in mind and it breaks my heart and gives me hope at the same time. Thank you, love.
Also, oh my goodness, this video is INSANELY beautiful. Thank you, Teckla, for taking the time to make something so powerful.
Blessed be, y'all. You give me such hope.
I noticed today that we have a few non-Pagans who are joining us and I have to say that this just tickles me pink. MAGENTA, even. I wrote this post in the heat of anger and I am so happy that those of you who are Christians saw through the anger to the heart of me. Bless you for that. Please spread the word!
My beautiful Selma wrote this piece of fiction with the Gulf in mind and it breaks my heart and gives me hope at the same time. Thank you, love.
Also, oh my goodness, this video is INSANELY beautiful. Thank you, Teckla, for taking the time to make something so powerful.
Blessed be, y'all. You give me such hope.
Monday, June 7, 2010
I'm So In Love With Y'all Right Now
Seriously, thank you SO MUCH for the beautiful responses to the previous post (now found on the sidebar, too.) Almost every time I come back, I find a new comment, a new friend. I'm so pleased and proud to be part of a group of humans working toward (and for) something so much bigger than themselves. Thank you for your participation and your offers to share the info--please feel free to grab the "Meet us at the Water" button over the post. I know that when I make my way to the water on the 12th, I will feel all of you with me. Having said that, Emily brought up a great point: make sure as you pour out your love and strength that you save some of that strength for yourself. I hadn't even considered this point, but it makes a lot of sense. Mother needs us strong in our day to day life, right? So you might want to visualize a finite amount of energy feeding into your water...I'm actually going to be mulling over this for the next few days. If any of you would like to share with us what you might say or do, we'd love to hear it.
Blessed be, everybody.
Blessed be, everybody.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Will You Find Your Way to the Water?
Okay, y'all, here's the thing:
I'm pissed.
No, I'm enraged. I am simply quaking with horror and rage and shock at the oil RIVER spewing into the Gulf. As a person, an American, a consumer...I'm upset. But as a Pagan, I am gone beyond simple upset.
We are killing my deity. Worse, we are making Her kill herself AND Her children. Our greed and consumption and blithe ignorance of the way the world works is causing the death of something ultimately sacred to me.
In my weird, strange, two- and three- and, okay, occasionally four-faced faith, Mother wears many clothes: She hides herself in Earth. She shines like the Moon. And She wears, always, a cloak of blue flowing around Her.
The Ocean is Mother: the warm, wet place from which we came. The source of our rain, our mist, our wind. The Seas are what make Earth unique in our solar system--perhaps our galaxy. Without the Seas, humans could not be.
How lucky the Christians are, with their god who died for their sins and then got to go to Heaven. Our goddess is dying BECAUSE of our sins, but here is no heaven for Her. We are making a Hell of Her. For Her. It makes me want to wail.
I hate feeling so helpless. I HATE feeling as if there is nothing I can do. I want to punch the BP exec who wants his "life back" square in the kisser. I want to SHAKE the people who try act as if liberals or environmentalists are the bad guys when we say, "Um, hi. THIS is what we've been talking about." I can't STAND it when politicians posture to figure out which angle is best to reach the largest number of voters.
But, ultimately, this can't be about my politics or my rage. This must be about my love. I love my planet. I love my Mother. I want to help Her, somehow. I can cut back on driving, I can recycle, I can stop buying plastic. I can do all of these things. But I can't stop the flow of the oil. I can't clean up all of those animals. I can't stop the death.
But I can't help thinking...maybe...if we all work together...we can heal Her. We can HELP heal Her. We can, at the very least, show Her our love.
The New Moon falls on the 12th this month. This is, perhaps coincidentally, the first evening I will spend on vacation. I will be on my favorite island, surrounded by the cool waters of the Atlantic. I'm planning, once the kidlets are asleep, to make my way down to the beach, down to the waves, and smooth my hands over the water. I will say, "Peace be with you, Mother. Take from me what strength you need to heal yourself and your children." And I will send as much love and light and peace back into Her as I can.
Will you join me? Will you find your way to the water, even if it's a bowl of tap water from your kitchen? Will you help me send love and light and peace and STRENGTH back to our Mother as we try to help Her heal herself?
Let me know. Maybe we can make this a movement. Maybe we can turn the tide of consumption and greed and ignorance. Maybe...
I'm pissed.
No, I'm enraged. I am simply quaking with horror and rage and shock at the oil RIVER spewing into the Gulf. As a person, an American, a consumer...I'm upset. But as a Pagan, I am gone beyond simple upset.
We are killing my deity. Worse, we are making Her kill herself AND Her children. Our greed and consumption and blithe ignorance of the way the world works is causing the death of something ultimately sacred to me.
In my weird, strange, two- and three- and, okay, occasionally four-faced faith, Mother wears many clothes: She hides herself in Earth. She shines like the Moon. And She wears, always, a cloak of blue flowing around Her.
The Ocean is Mother: the warm, wet place from which we came. The source of our rain, our mist, our wind. The Seas are what make Earth unique in our solar system--perhaps our galaxy. Without the Seas, humans could not be.
How lucky the Christians are, with their god who died for their sins and then got to go to Heaven. Our goddess is dying BECAUSE of our sins, but here is no heaven for Her. We are making a Hell of Her. For Her. It makes me want to wail.
I hate feeling so helpless. I HATE feeling as if there is nothing I can do. I want to punch the BP exec who wants his "life back" square in the kisser. I want to SHAKE the people who try act as if liberals or environmentalists are the bad guys when we say, "Um, hi. THIS is what we've been talking about." I can't STAND it when politicians posture to figure out which angle is best to reach the largest number of voters.
But, ultimately, this can't be about my politics or my rage. This must be about my love. I love my planet. I love my Mother. I want to help Her, somehow. I can cut back on driving, I can recycle, I can stop buying plastic. I can do all of these things. But I can't stop the flow of the oil. I can't clean up all of those animals. I can't stop the death.
But I can't help thinking...maybe...if we all work together...we can heal Her. We can HELP heal Her. We can, at the very least, show Her our love.
The New Moon falls on the 12th this month. This is, perhaps coincidentally, the first evening I will spend on vacation. I will be on my favorite island, surrounded by the cool waters of the Atlantic. I'm planning, once the kidlets are asleep, to make my way down to the beach, down to the waves, and smooth my hands over the water. I will say, "Peace be with you, Mother. Take from me what strength you need to heal yourself and your children." And I will send as much love and light and peace back into Her as I can.
Will you join me? Will you find your way to the water, even if it's a bowl of tap water from your kitchen? Will you help me send love and light and peace and STRENGTH back to our Mother as we try to help Her heal herself?
Let me know. Maybe we can make this a movement. Maybe we can turn the tide of consumption and greed and ignorance. Maybe...
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