I have such a strong desire to blog after attending a women's circle. Perhaps its my attempt to preserve the calm, grounded feeling I often experience afterward that is so polar to my regular state.
I felt honored, once again, to firstly, be invited and secondly, be in company of like-minded women sharing this evening of our spiritual journey.
Spirituality has always meant the same to me as religion because that is how I was raised. sometimes I find the best way to explain where you are is to explain where you've been. My mother is a non-practising Anglican who sent me to an Anglican girls chuch group (GFS), as a girl. Then sent me to a Lutheran High School where my non-conformist behaviour wasn't tolerated and I was asked to leave halfway through year 11. The daily half hour 'devotion' and twice weekly (? from memory) religion class was not conductive in affirming my faith. It was, in fact, enabling the opposite. It did not make sense to me that there was a HUGE patriarcial dominance within this faith. Why couldn't anyone answer any of my logial queries about the teachings, but instead preach me to have faith and then punish my 'distruptive' behaviour. It did not make sense to me that we celebrated so called christian holidays on seemingly that wrong part of the year. Living in the southern hemisphere shouldn't we have been celebrating christmas in July and Spring in September? I felt spritually void. I felt 'norty' for not conforming.
It is only recently, through my widening community of amazing women that I am learning and finally connecting with what feels like the truth, for me, about my spirituality. It is now all making sense. Yes, easter should be celebrated in spring! With the new life that it brings. So, why dont' we? I'm sure some do and it's just that I don't yet know about it. I'm fantasising about spring festivals where all our children have easter hunts, pick beautiful flowers to make crowns for each other and dance and sing amongst all the lush green life. So, it is now that we welcome Ostera, the goddess of spring, fertility and rebirth.
Please feel free to recommend books/sites for me on my journey. :)
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Vision Quest Aug 2010
I've learnt that traditionally vision quests are 'men's business', but there are also readings them being 'women's business' too. So, in our case, 8 women sat with mother nature, under grandmother moon and released our fears and asked for guidance and direction. To be with 7 other inspiring, strong, wise, beautiful women in a loving and trusting environment was a a not to be missed opportunity. It.was.amazing. I sat with these woman then I sat alone with my thoughts. The following is what I wrote sitting alone in my tent:
Sitting now by my solo camp fire feeling blessed to be where I am and having been in company of such amazing women for the last few hours, by the 'home fire'. So thankful for this opportunity to sit alone with nature by myself with my thoughts, welcoming the tears that flowed from my eyes earlier when I held baby an infant boy. Am now wondering why the tears came then. AM I grieving that stage with my babies, in fear that I won't get to have more babies of my own? Surely the tears are not from missing my babies, or maybe they are and the other times when we've been apart for 1 or 2 nights I was too busy and distracted to realise the loss, hence no tears then.
The noises I hear: I can hear the waterfall. It sounds awesome. Also hear my fire crackling-the air moving through the flames. The insects.
I can see: The moon lit night sky. The mounting in the not too distance where I sit at the from of my tent looking straight out. The sky is well lit, as grandmother moon is almost full. The sky is clear so I see many stars.
I look back down the hill toward 'home fire' and I see no fire now. I wonder if I am the only one burning a fire?
I smell: familiar smells. Moss, smoke, crisp clean air.
I chose this spot because I imagined being out of sight from others as solo as I was at Mt Binga, 16 years ago! I'm part way up a hill where I can look down to the reassurance of other women's tents and toward the home fire.
Sitting now by my solo camp fire feeling blessed to be where I am and having been in company of such amazing women for the last few hours, by the 'home fire'. So thankful for this opportunity to sit alone with nature by myself with my thoughts, welcoming the tears that flowed from my eyes earlier when I held baby an infant boy. Am now wondering why the tears came then. AM I grieving that stage with my babies, in fear that I won't get to have more babies of my own? Surely the tears are not from missing my babies, or maybe they are and the other times when we've been apart for 1 or 2 nights I was too busy and distracted to realise the loss, hence no tears then.
The noises I hear: I can hear the waterfall. It sounds awesome. Also hear my fire crackling-the air moving through the flames. The insects.
I can see: The moon lit night sky. The mounting in the not too distance where I sit at the from of my tent looking straight out. The sky is well lit, as grandmother moon is almost full. The sky is clear so I see many stars.
I look back down the hill toward 'home fire' and I see no fire now. I wonder if I am the only one burning a fire?
I smell: familiar smells. Moss, smoke, crisp clean air.
I chose this spot because I imagined being out of sight from others as solo as I was at Mt Binga, 16 years ago! I'm part way up a hill where I can look down to the reassurance of other women's tents and toward the home fire.
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