Ecofeminism – Page 5 – Feminism and Religion

A Leaf Peeper’s Reflection by Sara Wright

Twice a year, once in May for a few days and during the first week of October I can’t leave home because I’ll miss the next moment of spring flowering or scarlet flames.

Last week I was captivated by how the golden morning light affects each deciduous leaf. For about five days I ran inside and out all morning to feast upon the astonishing leaf color changes as the sun rose higher. ‘Fire on the Mountain’, crimson, gold, seductive sultry salmon brilliance. In and out for hours. I drove my dogs crazy. Noting the bees on the blushing hydrangea, glad for dragonflies cruising around the house. Greeting little green frog framed against his log. Breathing in the Light. Infused by all too brief moments of swamp maple’s fierce fiery splendor.

On Noach and its Ecofeminist Potential.

The Torah portion for November 2, 2024 is Noach. The portion includes the stories of Noah’s ark and the tower of Babel and ends with Abraham and Sarai settling in the land of Canaan. In my feminist analysis of Noach, I will focus on the ecofeminist potential of divine acknowledgements and how the divine is portrayed.

As ecofeminists at the intersection with religion, one task we have is to interpret those sacred texts which have something to say about nature and animals. Within Judaism, there are numerous such texts, and parshah Noah is one of them. Afterall, most of Noach revolves around a great flood in which the deity destroys the earth and most of its inhabitants, animal and human.

The divine destruction of the material realm is problematic. The deity blames the divine decision to destroy creation on the rampant corruption of the flesh: human and animal alike (6:13). In feminist thinking, linking material existence to corruption is unsettling since patriarchy often disavows material existence by linking it to evil. In addition, in Noach, an aspect of the material world, water, is used in bringing about that destruction. However, water is also ironically what all flesh depends on for life.

A Creation Narrative Leads to a Surprising Equinox Encounter, part 2 by Sara Wright

Part 1 was posted last week. You can read it here.

Yesterday on the day before the equinox I returned to my favorite hemlock forest after another morning of unproductive research on the mycelial web. The scarcity of information on this critical source of all life on land is troubling. As my frustration mounted I heard a little voice say, ‘Go visit with the hemlocks’. I did.

After I crossed the bridge into the forest something amazing happened. An invisible cloud of incredibly fragrant mushroom scent slipped over me like a shroud. I just stood there for a moment inhaling sweet earth, astonished and bewildered.

A Creation Narrative Leads to a Surprising Equinox Encounter, part 1 by Sara Wright

Walk lightly
pay keen attention…
practice gratitude
but not at the expense
of truth
take sparingly
share

an Underground Web
writes the Story
my roots
belong to Earth

‘Listen to
feathered voices,
seek mushroom clouds
keep breathing deep
into the forest floor
feel that luminous Light
rooted beneath my feet’

(my fall equinox prayer)

During these days of mindless violence and fearful political upheaval, I feel driven to enter the woods on a daily basis. Lately, I haven’t even left my property. As I cross the bridge over the brook, I brush by the first lacy hemlocks and lovingly touch a branch of witch hazel whose lemony fingered flowers reach for mine. I am on the trail of mushrooms, but not as a forager.

I am drawn to these fungal fruiting bodies because I am trying to learn more about the complex relationships between certain fungi that emerge as mushrooms and their relationship to the trees around them. Some fungi that are in a symbiotic (or mycorrhizal) relationship with one tree or many, do fruit above ground but there are only about 20,000 mushrooms in all. The rest (which is most of the fungal world) fruit underground.

Seeds of Life by Sara Wright

I have been involved with plants since I was a toddler. My first word was ‘fower’ for bright yellow buttercups, a nickname I was given by my grandfather that stuck.

I guess it’s no surprise that I started out with gardening as a three-year-old under my grandmother’s tutelage. Her large vegetable plot fed us for most of the year. I seeded my first yellow summer squash into rich moist earth and watched with wonder as the seed emerged with two emerald ears.

In college when students were decorating their rooms with drapes and bedspreads, I bought a pepper plant to brighten my cement surroundings and soon had a windowsill full of plants.

As a young adult I grew many house plants and often talked to them, noting that we seemed to have an uncanny personal relationship, a childhood reality that I had been educated out of. I also gardened with herbs outside my back door, because I loved to cook and needed tasty condiments. Soon I moved on to planting a full – fledged vegetable plot. I canned what I could like my grandmother still longing for the bountiful flower gardens of my dreams. I come from a lineage of female flower gardeners and farmers that stretched back three generations (that I know of) but as a young single mother who worked and one who was frozen from loss, I didn’t make the time.

What is Rematriation? by Sara Wright

“Rematriation centers Indigenous Women’s leadership for the restoration and regeneration of land and water. By revitalizing Indigenous knowledge, honoring traditions and renewing annual cycles of life, rematriation directly addresses harms caused by patriarchal extraction and violence.”
Bioneers

Bioneers, is a FREE online publication that has been around since 1990. in addition to its weekly programs this organization is now introducing the ‘Leading from the Feminine’ newsletter whose intent is to bridge divides and to celebrate connection invoking the feminine as leaders. This newsletter exists to bridge divides and celebrate connections within the rich tapestry of visionary women and men who are evoking/ invoking the feminine to lead with courage, vulnerability, intuition and empathy.

And Then Everything Changed: Part One: Mourning by Beth Bartlett

At the end of June, in clear contradiction to the Founders’ intent,[i] the Supreme Court ruled, 6-3, that the President has “absolute immunity from criminal prosecution for . . . all his official acts.”[ii] In other words, the President is above the law, or, as Justice Sotomayor said in her impassioned dissent: “The relationship between the President and the people he serves has shifted irrevocably. In every use of official power, the President is now a king above the law.”

The ruling left many outraged. The people at large do not want a presidency unchecked by law. The ruling becomes even more chilling given the real possibility of Trump – a self-proclaimed admirer of autocrats — returning to the office of the President, and the specter of Project 2025, the blueprint by the Heritage Foundation that lays out the sweeping changes Trump and a faction of conservatives have planned to put in place if Trump is elected.

Lowlands: Who Will Answer the Call? by Sara Wright

I live under a steep craggy mountain that is gushing with the sweetest mineral rich water that pours out of an old spring. On this piece of land feeder brooks stream down the mountain feeding hemlock and cedar before silvery clear water slides into a rushing brook (miraculously) still filled with trout. Sadly, the main artery of my brook comes from another mountain that has been brutally logged, dammed up for someone’s pleasure and is currently running amok. Silt ridden water floods this lowland routinely not only changing the course of the stream now riddled with dying trees, (collapsing trees must have soil to stay upright) but creating unusual vernal pools that are beginning to mature. As a result, this has been the best frog and toad year that I have had since my first magical year spent on this land before all the surrounding areas were chopped into parcels. Once I roamed free up and down this mountain through unbroken forests fields and fens, marshes, seeps, bogs and springs. I have never lost that feeling of belonging to this land not just the area I ‘own’ (oxymoron) but all of her.

It doesn’t surprise me that in most pre -christian traditions the Original Mother of Us All was and still is a mountain! When the other mountains all around me were first being raped by dirty yellow machines someone remarked to me quite sagely, “the bones of the mountains are still here”. And so they are, and so is She.

The Eye of the Goddess by Sara Wright

Spiraling In

I buried you today,
a fluff of earthly feathers
dipped in ebony
bronze
and gold.
He left you
on my road
innocent
already broken
Just a tiny bird
peeping pitifully
in fear and pain
cocooned in
deep distress.

I scooped you up
held you against
my heart

Instantly Still
I felt you knew…

Wild Mothering
kicked in
create a loving
space for
life or death

Above all
Be Present
for whatever
is ahead…

I dug a grave
where you were born
nestled under pines
fragrant roots
cradled what
was left
your bones are
made of light

Offering prayers
to Her
Our Bird Goddess*
I bowed my head
Ancient and Wise
She who Sees
She who holds
Abusers accountable
(as do I)
She watches
over us all
honoring the dead.

Chloe’s Shadow by Sara Wright

Gently nibbling seed
a bear bird’s
hind legs
charcoaled nose
glimpsed
through
shade fogged
windows…
Imagining…
Standing
where you just stood
matter is
frozen light
yours
a golden circlet
emerald star
circling
above us all
a beacon of
Cosmic Light
I weave a
crown of grape leaves
round and
round crafting
Prayers
for body soul –
Your
Protection
and mine…
Standing in your Shadow
One.
Still, Earth’s Keening
keeps us
awake at night.