From the Archives: A View from the Chute by Charlene Spretnak

This was originally posted on February 21, 2018

Recently I was hurled across the existential divide that separates the millions of people around the world who have experienced a life-threatening extreme weather event from those who have not. In December 2017 unseasonal Santa Ana winds roared off a California desert across two drought-parched counties, not for the usual 48 hours but for more than a week, blowing a brush fire across 440 square miles. It was named the Thomas fire, the largest in California history.

The two mountain ranges forming the walls of the Ojai Valley were incinerated as the town on the valley floor was evacuated but, in the end, was saved. A month later 23 people were killed in nearby Montecito by mudslides that brought boulders and debris crashing down from the burned out mountainside after only one hour of an unusually intense rainstorm. The ground shook as a thunderous roar arose. The impact of the fast-moving debris flow obliterated many houses, splintering them instantly and sweeping the remains into the growing torrent that ran to the sea.  

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Becoming Plant by Sara Wright

“I did not know to recognize you as individuals when I bought you, but I know to recognize you as individuals now…”
Xochitl Alvizo

This morning, I read an excellent essay by Xochitl Alvizo about ‘extending compassion’ by choosing to become vegan. Her personal story touched me deeply because it was a tale of awakening to the sanctity of animal life.

My story was different, but perhaps just as compelling. I include my partial response to her article here:

I grew up as a meat eater, and ANIMAL lover… by my mid – twenties I started to feel very uncomfortable about eating meat, so gradually I ate less and less… I took a philosophy course. The professor shocked me. Was becoming vegetarian the answer? Wasn’t I still eating living things? By then I had already developed deep personal relationships with plants both inside and out – I already knew they responded to being loved and cared about. If I really wanted to get away from killing things, then would I be willing to take a pill to get the nutrients I needed instead of eating any more food he asked? I loved to cook. I loved food. I loved plants and animals. No, I thought.

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Archives from the FAR Founders: Extending Compassion and Vegetarianism by Xochitl Alvizo

This was originally posted on June 26, 2013 and continues to be a story I love retelling!

“I did not know to recognize you as individuals when I bought you, but I know to recognize you as individuals now…”

I had been a vegetarian, and sometimes pescatarian, for more than 10 years before becoming vegan. Despite the length of my vegetarianism, in all that time I had not been inclined to go vegan. First, I really didn’t know too much about veganism and only began meeting a few vegans about five or six years ago here in Boston, none of whom had shared a compelling enough reason for their choice (at least not compelling to me). Further, I had no imagination for life without cheese or Cherry Garcia ice cream(!), and so I happily continued with my vegetarian ways. Then enters Carol Adams…

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Prayer to the Bird Goddesses by Sara Wright

Every fall I look forward to the wild turkeys that visit me during the winter. This year visits are more sporadic but the friendship between the three male turkeys that I call the ‘kings’ or the three amigos has persisted for two years creating many questions for this naturalist regarding bird relationships (despite being ruthlessly hunted in spring and fall and randomly shot at).

These three friends still seem inseparable and last year I had a chance to get to know each individual. Two continue to defer to the king who is just a little larger than his friends, but I never witnessed conflict between any of these male birds. Last year they displayed and even mated together! This year there is a predator afoot and except for the king who acts as a protector standing watch while the mixed flock scratches for seed, the turkeys hide from me, so I am sure I am dealing with a human threat. Still, the turkeys come in to feed and that’s what matters. Only recently have the males begun to come separately. The flocks are splitting up for spring mating, still two months away. I am quite certain that the turkey friendships I am witnessing are replicated with the females but because they are more reticent it is harder to get to know them individually.

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Emergence and Death of the Goddess by Sara Wright

In the beginning, of course, there was no separation; an intimate relationship existed between all humans and the rest of Nature.

The Earth and every living being was considered whole, sacred, animated with soul.

I think of soul as being embodied, that is, living through a body. I think spirit surrounds and interpenetrates each animal/plant being, but soul is born within the individual.

If I am correct, it’s not surprising that the origin of all religions began with humans worshipping birds and mammals because they live through their bodies, and had to be attached to instincts, intellect, intuition, sensing, feeling to survive.  They were also here long before people. In every pre-literate culture, there are stories about animals teaching humans how to forage, deal with health problems, and protect themselves.

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Faith’s First Light by Sara Wright

Faith was full of a sorrow so deep that she was drowning. Threatening forces swirled inside and outside her creating an impenetrable cloud that conjured up frightening dreams.

Faith loved animals, especially dogs, birds, and trees. The dogs and birds comforted her on a regular basis. Lately, even the earth beneath her feet seemed to be rising to embrace her, an intricate crocheted net that sometimes pulsed with lights, so why was she so numb? Faith shared her grief with her mother. Otherwise, she remained mute.

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Listening to Our Landscapes, by Molly Remer

Today the hawk is back, tail feathers lit gold and black by a bright and welcome sun. It stays only a moment before tilting out of the tree and continuing on its way, but this moment is enough to spark a sense of joy and wonder in my chest, the awake kind of glee that fuels and feeds me, that inspires and holds me. This feels like the Year of the Hawk to me, of clear focus and intentional commitment. I watch it glide away between the trees and take a deep breath of release and freedom. I re-center myself into my body and reconnect to the sacred What Is. I am open to clarity. I am open to trust. I am present with this day’s unfolding. 

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On the changing role of the Goddess

Goddess Prominence & Nature Participation through time

Today I reflect on the presence or absence of the goddess in religion and society, and how we view humanity and participate in nature as a result. 

This post is inspired by “The Myth of the Goddess. Evolution of an Image” by Anne Baring and Jules Cashford, and especially by its final chapter “The Sacred Marriage of Goddess and God: the Reunion of Nature and Spirit.” This dance of integration of apparent opposites is essential to my work.

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Black Bird Ballet by Sara Wright

Wikimedia Commons

In September I was patient. My beloved birds were having a good year seeking food in natural places like my field I reminded myself over and over as they remained absent from my feeders until I fell and was hospitalized for weeks.

After November’s first snow storm the grouse arrived and I had high hopes that she would stay. I occasionally flushed her in thickets but did not see grouse’s plump brown body feasting on the remainder of the berries from the crabapple or see her hieroglyphs in the snow.

The turkeys remained absent. When I walked through my young pine forest where chickadees chirp even on windy days, the musical whirring wings of mourning doves tore into the grief I felt and didn’t want to own. Sometimes I called out “I love you” to those birds who chose to converse with me because I know they know.

 In late November when the snow piled up bowing trees to the ground it also brought in the first winter cold; this time the brook almost froze solid. A few birds did visit the feeder for a day or so: titmice, chickadees, one female cardinal, a few juncos, goldfinches, but the absence of abundance was overwhelming. Two days later nothing.

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The Road Back Home, part 1 by Terry Folks

Review: In my first four posts sharing my recent Goddess Pilgrimage to Crete, I combined Joseph Campbell’s mono-myth with Maureen Murdock’s feminist version.

In this post and the final one to come, we complete the journey home. In Murdock’s feminist adaptation, I am now poised to Integrate the Feminine and Masculine within. My hybrid combines Campbell’s Reward (Seizing of the Sword), the Road Back, Death and Resurrection, and my Return with the Elixir.

Briefly: Having tested positive for COVID on the first day of the pilgrimage, I was required to quarantine at Hotel Idi near the village of Zaros near the Psiloritis foothills in the bosom of Mother Mountain Ida. Four other sisters eventually joined me and we formed the Avocado Sisterhood, meeting daily for support and encouragement. However, I spent much of my time alone, moved inward, became very still, and underwent a personal spiritual transformation during this liminal time. My sisters left before I did as I still had not tested negative.

Stage Ten – The Road Back – Integration of the Feminine and Masculine

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