Echoes of Mesopotamia by Molly

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Echoes of Mesopotamia
small figures from ancient places
ancient times
and ancient faces
ancient words
and ancient wisdom
still flowing in my veins

Clay in my hands
clay in her hands
running on the rivers of time
spiraling in the mysteries of being
spinning in the eddies and ripples of eternity…

I have a strong emotional connection to ancient Paleolithic and Neolithic goddess sculptures. I do not find that I feel as personally connected to later goddess imagery, but very ancient figures call to something deep and powerful within me. I have a sculpture of the Goddess of Willendorf at a central point on my altar. Sometimes I hold her and wonder and muse about who carved the original. I almost feel a thread that reaches out and continues to connect us to that nearly lost past—all the culture and society and how very much we don’t know about early human history. There is such a solid power to these early figures and to me they speak of the numinous, non-personified, Great Goddess weaving her way throughout time and space. Continue reading “Echoes of Mesopotamia by Molly”

The Great Commandment for Women: Love and Care for Yourself as You Love and Care for Others by Carol P. Christ

carol-christA rabbi known as Jesus of Nazareth taught that you should  “love God with all your heart and your neighbor as yourself.”  Charles Hartshorne, philosopher of relationship and a twentieth century advocate of the “two great commandments,” added that it should be understood that this means that God wants you to love yourself too.

I quote Hartshorne’s midrash on the great teaching often because, sadly, too many women—and some men too–have been taught to love their neighbors at the expense of themselves, to care for others, but not to care as much for themselves.  Continue reading “The Great Commandment for Women: Love and Care for Yourself as You Love and Care for Others by Carol P. Christ”

Why I Need the Goddess by Judith Shaw

judith shaw photoI have been drawn to the Goddess for a variety of reasons.  Initially, as a young woman, She spoke to me of my own power, self-worth, self-determination and my/every woman’s inherent beauty. She lent Her hand to my emerging sense of independence from male domination.

Over the years my experience of Goddess deepened.  At times I feel Her as manifest in me and as a symbol of my own power.  At other times She is who I pray to for both personal and community help.

Continue reading “Why I Need the Goddess by Judith Shaw”

What is the Nature of the Hope that Can Trump Despair in the New Year? by Carol P. Christ

carol-christ“All hope abandon, ye who enter here.” These words posted on the gates of hell in Dante’s Inferno have an eerie resonance in our time. 

Marie Cartier recently posted a blog on children and hunger with facts so devastating I could not finish reading it. Earlier in the month Jassy Watson wrote about her deep feelings of grief on hearing Luisah Teish’s “Prayer for Disappearing Species.” Grief, despair, and sadness about the injustices in our world can be overwhelming.

A friend of mine has recently fallen into a deep depression. When I try to talk her out of it, she repeats that they are threatening to cut down the last remaining old growth forest in her home state of Oregon and that she can no longer eat fish because radioactivity released in the Fukishima nuclear plant disaster is reaching the seacoast of Oregon.

When I tell my friend she should not dwell only on these things and that she must remember that the world is still a beautiful place, she responds, “I do not want to give up my feelings. I know I must find a way to acknowledge my sadness and make a place for joy, but I don’t know how to do it.”

I have been in the grip of deep grief about the planet myself, not once but many times. But this happens less frequently than it used to.  When I think about the differences between how I once felt and how I feel now, I think the difference is that I have come to terms with and accepted the likelihood that “the world as we know it” is “going to hell in a handbasket”—as I put it.

I believe that the most likely conclusion of the choices human beings are making on planet earth today is massive environmental destruction leading to great suffering and probable extinction for human and many other species on planet earth. This is what I believe, but I also remind myself that I cannot know for sure. The earth and its species including human beings may have resources of resistance and survival, transformation and adaptation,that I do not know about and cannot imagine.

When I began to accept that the world I know and love (where spring follows winter, where birds sing, and where there is hope that injustice can be rectified) may not exist in the very near future, I had an astonishing insight. The death of the world I know and love will not mean the death of our planet or the end of the evolution of the universe.

Thinking about the disappearance of species and the death of human beings from starvation often feels too much to bear. None of this should be happening. Still, it can be strangely comforting to remind myself that the world I love is not the only possible world. There have been other worlds on this very planet—the time when the first cells were formed, the time of the dinosaurs, and many others. Evolution will continue on planet earth for several billion more years, and when our sun burns out, other suns will most likely still be shining in the universe.

This insight was followed by another. The reason for hope is not the conviction that we will be able to save the world we love. The reason for hope—and the reason to keep trying to save our world—is the deep knowing that it is right to try. Even if we cannot save the world we love for all time, we can savor the gift of life, and we can continue to try to create a world in which the gift of life is shared widely today and tomorrow.

I have written many times that we must learn to love a life that ends in death. I was speaking about accepting that each one of us will surely die. I do not fear death. Overcoming this fear has opened me to a greater and more clear-sighted love for life.

Can we learn to love life while accepting that the world we love may be dying? Can we continue to work to improve the conditions of life for individuals and species knowing that the world as we love it may not survive? Do we have any other choice?

For me the hope that can trump despair in our time begins in gratitude for a life that has been given to us, a life that has come down to us through the generations, and through billions of years of the evolutionary process on our planet.

Let us bless the Source of Life.

Let us bless the Source of Life, and the cycles of birth, death, and regeneration.

Let us turn back from despair.

Let us embrace the gift of life and share it with as many others as possible in the new year.

Carol P. Christ  learned to be grateful for the gift of life in Crete on the Goddess Pilgrimage to Crete she leads through Ariadne Institute.  It is not too early to sign up for the spring or fall pilgrimages for 2014.  Carol can be heard on a WATER Teleconference.  Carol’s books include She Who Changes and Rebirth of the Goddess and the widely-used anthologies Womanspirit Rising and Weaving the Visions. She wishes you great joy in the new year.

The Pagan Wheel of the Year by Deanne Quarrie

Deanne QuarrieBarbara Ardinger (one blogger here – watch for her “twist” on this in January!) and I were discussing that an explanation of the pagan year and our Sabbats might be in order. Sometimes when we are immersed in our own spiritual practice, we forget that those who read what we have written may not have a clear understanding of what forms the basis of the holy days we speak of in our articles. These holidays are called Sabbats. The word sabbat is of obscure etymology but was understood in the Middle Ages to mean a gathering of witches and heretics.  The word comes from the Hebrew Shabbath meaning a day of rest.  Christians use the word Sabbath for Sunday, their traditional day of worship. It is interesting to note this was not a term originally coined by pagans, themselves.  It has been borrowed or adopted for use today.

Pagans see the journey traveled in a year or a lifetime as kind of wheel.  It is based on the earth’s journey around the sun. One rotation equals one year. We call it the Wheel of the Year. Since the origins of most of the traditions practiced by pagans in this country come from the Northern Hemisphere, the turning of the wheel is based on the Earth’s travel around the sun and the impact that is felt in the Northern Hemisphere. It would be exactly the opposite for those in the Southern Hemisphere. Continue reading “The Pagan Wheel of the Year by Deanne Quarrie”

Of Birds, Angels, and Tidings of Great Joy by Carol P. Christ

carol p. christ 2002 colorA link to a video of a European Hooded Crow sliding down a snow-covered rooftop on a mayonnaise-lid sled appeared on my Facebook timeline a few days ago. For me this crow expresses the “spirit of the season” as aptly as anything I can think of.  She brings a smile to my face on a grey and cold morning.  She makes me want to climb up on the rooftop and slide down with her.  She reminds me that we humans are not alone–we share the world with a vast multitude of other intelligent creatures.  She tells me that there is nothing more sacred than the joy of life.

crow

The ancient Cretans believed that the capacity to enjoy life was not limited to human beings–they believed that animals  enjoy life as much as we do, and they expressed this sensibility in their art.  They also celebrated birds because their  arrival in spring announces the beginning of the growing season. This early pot in the shape of a bird or duck opening its mouth to–as we kids used to say–“drink the rain” cannot help but evoke a smile. Continue reading “Of Birds, Angels, and Tidings of Great Joy by Carol P. Christ”

Winter Solstice – When Darkness Nurtures Light by Judith Shaw

Judith Shaw photoIn the Northern Hemisphere Winter Solstice, usually December 21,  heralds both the time of deepest darkness and the beginning of the return to light.  It is a liminal day offering a transformation from darkness to light.

In the mid-latitudes in the ten days after the winter solstice the hours of sunlight increase by only a few seconds up to a minute or so.  The world slows down allowing a time to relish the quiet of long nights and the inspiration of winter dreams.

Continue reading “Winter Solstice – When Darkness Nurtures Light by Judith Shaw”

Ancestor Connection Revisited: Anna M. Christ of Little Germany, Brooklyn by Carol P. Christ

carol-christThese days I can’t get my 2x great-grandmother Anna Maria Christ off my mind.  She may be the independent female ancestor I have been looking for all these years.

My father’s father was transferred from New York to San Francisco during the depression. When I moved to New York City, I felt powerfully connected to its diverse immigrant culture, but I never thought of trying to figure out where and when my ancestors lived there.

Recently I found my Scottish and Irish 2x great-grandparents, James Inglis, the seaman, and Annie Corliss, mother of 9, living in the tenements on Cherry Street near the port of New York.  These were my father’s ancestors on his mother’s side.  I felt inspired by a photograph of Annie to take her Irish spirit of triumph over adversity into my soul.

Because it has become fashionable to be interested in things Irish, I began my ancestor research there.  In fact, I am more German (3/8) than I am Irish (3/16).  As I have delved into my German ancestry, I realized that being German became a cause for shame in both the First and Second World Wars.  German language newspapers were banned, Germans were interned, people hated Germans, and many Germans changed their names.

As a child I learned to create mock battles against “krauts,” Continue reading “Ancestor Connection Revisited: Anna M. Christ of Little Germany, Brooklyn by Carol P. Christ”

SACRED RHYTHMS OF THE OLIVE HARVEST by Carol P. Christ

carol-christOlives are being harvested in the fields outside my town these days.  We have been having the first rains of the season.  The roads are wet and muddy, and the trees are partially shrouded in mist.  The fields are spread with black plastic nets, and people are hard at work, the men hitting the trees to make the olives fall, and the women picking up the olives from the nets.  The harvest will continue throughout the winter.

The olive press is busy. Cars and trucks come and go, unloading heavy bags filled with olives.  These days the bags are white, made of sturdy woven plastic. In Crete this fall several of us bought canvas olive bags, hand-woven by women.  These, along with baskets hand-woven by men, were still in use only a few decades ago.

olive harvest in Lesbos early 20th century by Theofilos Hajimichael
olive harvest in Lesbos early 20th century by Theofilos Hajimichael

A friend who died a few years ago told me that “in the old days” there were no nets. The women and the children had to pick the olives up from the ground, often cutting their hands on thorns and stones.  The nets are a Goddess-send.  Between harvests, the nets are simply folded up and placed in the crotch of the tree. Here no one steals them.

In the fields where I walk some of the trees have enormous trunks. Some of them have two trunks, growing like sisters.  Many of them are 300, some perhaps 500, years old.  A man emerges from a field that has some particularly old trees.  I ask him how old they are. “Older than I am,” he replies. “They were here before I was born.  They will be here after I die.” Continue reading “SACRED RHYTHMS OF THE OLIVE HARVEST by Carol P. Christ”

Inner and Outer Darkness in the Skoteino Cave by Coleen Clare

Coleen ClaireLast fall I undertook the Ariadne Goddess Pilgrimage to Crete and saw many wonders. Foremost for me was our descent into the Skoteino Cave, following in the footsteps of ancient Cretans who understood the cave to be the Source of Life, the womb of the Goddess, and a place of transformation. I ventured down tentatively taking very wary steps, protecting my two new hip replacements, determined to join our sacred ritual in the cave with my sisters. My hips called a stop to my descent half-way down. I perched perilously on a small rock ledge and there I confronted inner and outer darkness. It was indeed a profound transformation. Continue reading “Inner and Outer Darkness in the Skoteino Cave by Coleen Clare”