Eco-systems – Page 2 – Feminism and Religion

Diana Beresford-Kroeger: Integrating Celtic Wisdom and Science, part 1 by Theresa Dintino

Moderator’s Note: This post is brought to you by a collaboration by FAR and Nasty Women Writers written and hosted by Maria and Theresa Dintino. This post originally appeared on their website on Sep 12, 2023

In her book To Speak for the Trees: My Life’s Journey from Ancient Celtic Wisdom to a Healing Vision of the Forest, Diana Beresford-Kroeger shares her origin story, the humble beginnings of the famous scientist, the activist and crusader for the planet she became. We learn on what forge that will, strength, brain and consciousness were smelted. And it is one of beauty, strength and love, one that takes the breath away.

I loved this book. I loved going deeper and deeper into Beresford-Kroeger’s life story, into the rich depths of her Celtic heritage and medicine lineage. To learn the secrets and the wisdom. Beresford-Kroeger offers sacred transmission in this book, revealing another part of herself. It is a vulnerable telling and an irreplaceable gift.

Empty Nest by Sara Wright

She fluttered
out of a woven
mossy green
basket
above the door
at dawn
the
nest
had fallen
onto granite
stone.
Oh
my drowning senses
couldn’t
contain such grief
every cell
drilled
deeper
I gasped
this
cavernous
hole
had no
bottom
I continued
to fall
Nature had
Spoken
my silent
plea went
unanswered
Ki’s* message
was clear
I replaced
the nest
added a
cedar shingle
enticing
the phoebes
to return
listened
to a vibrating
body
whose mourning
bell
rang clear
Nature
had Spoken
my beloved
birds
and those
I loved
were gone.

Women and Trees: Little Red Pine by Sara Wright

Women and trees belong together; our relationships with them stretches back to antiquity. They have been our protectors, guiding us through grief and difficult times. They offer us gifts of beauty, fruits, and nuts, are receivers of prayers, sometimes speaking through prophecy. Sometimes healing springs appear at their feet. And always they are wisdom keepers, these Trees of Life. It is not surprising that women’s ceremonies were and are often enacted in the forest under a canopy of trees.

Emergence magazine recently posed three questions that I want to share because I think they might help raise awareness for women who love trees and the relatively small minority of other people who are attempting to deal with what is happening to the rest of nature during this political crisis and time of earth destruction.

Some folks who are not Indigenous still love and care for the land as a beloved friend, relative and teacher and it is to these people, both women and men, that I offer up these questions because I think they may help to keep us grounded in a painful but potentially creative way. Queries like these attach us to a larger long-term perspective that allows for a ‘both and’ approach to the future. The last question invites the reader to take personal action. Feeling that reciprocal connection between an individual and some aspect of the land s/he is attached to is a key that opens a door to deeper engagement with the rest of nature.

Ice Above and Below and the Coming of the Light by Sara Wright

January’s twilight
hours draw me
into her pale embrace
stalactites and frozen
streams whisper
that winter’s skin
is thin even with
months to go
flowing water
is muted
under seeded snow
underground roots
pulse
with light
sleeping
forest boughs
wake in wild winds
crack and moan
rest in peace
at dawn
bears sleep
fox and weasel
seek slivers of
open water
I walk in slow
motion to
stay upright
at the edge
of a meandering
serpentine stream
listening for
the scent
of just one
hemlock singing
feeling the tangles
of gray and green
Indoors
standing at the window
I ask
how many
forested eyes
are meeting my own?

Amphitrite: Greek Sea Goddess — Balance, Abundance and Protection, by Judith Shaw

In the origin stories of the Greek deities the overarching importance of water, which surrounds their domain, is undeniable. Water held the power of life, death and renewal.

In each successive pantheon of Greek goddesses and gods — the Primordials, the Titans, and the Olympians — a goddess and a god ruled the seas together. During the time of the Primordial deities, it was Thalassa and Pontus, followed by the Titans, Thetys and Oceanus, and Doris and Nereu, and finally by the Olympians, Amphitrite and Poseidon.

“Amphitrite, Greek Sea Goddess,” gouache on paper, 11″ x 17″ by Judith Shaw

Cats Tales by Sara Wright

Awakening to an image
cattails in the marsh?
When I drive by
curled brown rushes
crush stiffened
seed swords
a few gray puffs rising
under sail
dull brown capsules
cracked by winter cold
opalescent ice crystals
mirror solid gray sheets
stretch across the horizon
Why then
cattails in my dreams?

Two days later
Lynx strides by the window
self-possessed, tufted ears
erect fine points,
  feathery furred
paws sliding
over frozen snow
striped buff and coal
rounding
the corner a
  sinewy vision
   of serpentine grace
purpose unveiled
she picks up the trail
avian hieroglyphics
lead her on
my wild turkeys
freeze
perch high
in the trees
a forest of eyes
peer down through
evergreen boughs

Cats can climb.

Evergreen – Part 1 by Sara Wright

I forgot the
‘Original Instructions’
until She nudged me
Black Bear
Chloe
Green Shoot
alive or dead
She lives on
like the Evergreens
she evolved
with, climbed
to safety
from those
who would harm.

From the Archives: Tree of Life: The Festival of the Trees in an Age of Treefall by Jill Hammer

This was originally posted on January 22, 2019

Almost every day, I walk in Central Park. There are certain trees there I’ve come to know: the gnarled cherry trees by the reservoir, the bending willows and tall bald cypress by the pond, the sycamores that drop their bark each summer, the hawthorn not far from Central Park West. Lately I’ve been taking photos of the trees to try to capture their essence, their posture in the world. The trees around me feel like friends, which is what an ancient midrash (interpretation/legend) called Genesis Rabbah says about trees: that they are friends to humankind. To me, they’ve always been a central manifestation of Mother Earth.

Currently, the national parks in the United States have no staff because of the government shutdown. Some people have taken the opportunity to cut down the rare and endangered Joshua trees in the Joshua Tree National Park—just for fun, I guess, or as a trophy of some kind. Meanwhile, President Bolsonaro of Brazil recently has indicted that he wants to remove protection for the rainforest, in order to allow development. It appears that my friends the trees have enemies. Sometimes the enmity is for personal/corporate gain, and sometimes the enmity seems to have no reason at all.

From the Archives: Winter Solstice: Celebration of the Powers of Fire by Sara Wright

This was originally posted on Dec. 12, 2023

I have a problem with the belief that Winter Solstice is primarily about celebrating ‘the coming of the light.’ This one – sided thinking negates the cross-cultural reality that this is a festival during which candles are lit to light up the night and roaring fires blaze inside and out bringing warmth to all. Winter Solstice is above all else a Festival of Fire.

Fire is an ambiguous element (as all the elements are) carrying both a positive and negative charge. On one level fire brings warmth and light on cold winter nights. On the other hand, fire also incinerates, destroying everything it touches. Approaching a Festival that celebrates the Element of Fire should be done with consciousness and caution.

MOTHER OAK by Dale Allen

We sat on the in the leaves, my daughter and I, in the warm autumn sun under the Great Mother Oak. Here and there fallen leaves danced lightly in the breeze. It felt good to be directly connected to the ground, bent knees and bare feet on the land. We leaned back and looked up at the tree in all her glory. She was still filled with yellow green leaves… her canopy so high that from up there, she can “see” the other neighborhood trees with many years like she has.

She has been here in this place since the end of the 1700s or the beginning of the 1800s. She was here with the first European settlers of this place. Her mother had been here before that, with the last generations of the people who were of this land for 15,000 years or more: the Paugussett People. We could feel this history. We could feel the tree’s mother. And then, from beneath the ground where their energy remains steady, we heard the voice of the Paugussett. They thanked us for acknowledging their presence. They said that they can feel our profound love for this place where we live, here in Black Rock, Connecticut… our love for the trees, the leaves, the flowers, the osprey, the red tail hawks, the fox, the squirrels, the rabbits, the insects, the shore, the waters of coastal Connecticut (Long Island Sound), the shells, the sand, the sparkles, the historical homes, the families, the new babies. We love this land. We love our home. And the Paugussett saw this love. The Mother Oak saw this love.