Mother Earth – Page 10 – Feminism and Religion

A Thealogy of Land and Roots by Kelle ban Dea

I am my Mothers
My Mothers are me
I am the Goddess
the Goddess is within me
As blood
as bone
as the spirals
of nuclei
as ova
as tears
as breath
I carry my Mothers
as my Daughters will carry me

And the Goddess carries us all

The Scarlet Runner Outside My Window by Sara Wright

I have grown scarlet runner beans ever since I can remember. I have heirloom seeds that I collect every fall to dry and store for the winter. During the last few years as the weather began to shift planting became tricky. The deer were also decimating my plants before they could produce seeds pods so eventually after sharing seeds with others, I gave up growing my own…

Last winter I had an opportunity to look at lichens, molds, and stones under a powerful microscope at the Mineral and Gem Museum (MGM) and since I had one old seed from many years past, I took it in along with some slime molds because I wanted to see the colors. To my utter shock when I opened the damp packet the seed had produced a big fat white root.

Label or Be Labelled Part 3: Toward Embodied Presence

In Part 1 of this series on labelling, I highlighted the difference between naming and labelling, and the search for a personal label as ‘participation ticket’ for life.

In Part 2 on professional and spiritual identity, I looked at what we can learn from the autoethnographic practice of disclosing various selves in research situations. I also discussed the effects of Christianity on the suppression of pagan traditions in northwestern Europe, and nature-based spirituality as part of our generic spiritual DNA.

Today I share a few final reflections including what groups celebrate their differences with ‘prides and games’, and which ones remain invisible? What are the effects of woke ideology on fear of expression and loss of voices, and an invitation for embodied presence as one characteristic of our shared humanity.

THE SKELETON TREE by Sara Wright

Moderator’s note: Our long time writer Sara Wright fell recently and broke her hip. I am writing this with her permission. Here is how she describes herself on our contributor’s page: Sara Wright is a naturalist, ethologist (a person who studies animals in their natural habitats) (former) Jungian Pattern Analyst, and a writer. She publishes her work regularly in a number of different venues and is presently living in Maine.

Sara is always reminding us to listen deeply to the earth, the animals, the plants and all of nature. Her revelations are always poignant, instructional and helps, encourages, pleads with to the re-member that we are the natural world and we must cherish our “roots.”

To Sara, heal quickly and continue to write for us.

Here is what she wrote about her accident.

Label or Be Labelled Part 2: Professional and spiritual identity

This post continues from Part 1, where I situated this essay as a reflection on Xochitl Alvizo’s article Human, Just Human. There, I questioned the difference between the power of naming versus the pressure to label. I then described my search for a personal identifier as ‘participation ticket’ to life. This feels important nowadays to join the conversation and not be dismissed by default. However, I wondered whether looking for things that set us apart emphasises otherness rather than shared humanity.

Today, I question what can we learn from autoethnography about the many selves we bring to different professional situations and how they might hide more than they reveal. I also describe the challenges of naming nature-based practices in a geographical area where 2000 years of Christianity forced our pagan traditions underground.

Monarch Magic, by Molly Remer

When my father was a boy in the 1950’s, he had a butterfly collection. His friends would bring him dead butterflies to add his collection and ask him what they were called. He got so many monarchs that his reply would be, “Thanks! That’s a ‘common sicker,’” secretly meaning they were so common he was sick of them. Now, my father is 70 and his grandchildren rarely see a monarch butterfly, the population of them having declined by 85% or even more in just two short decades. This rapid change is one of the most clear and alarming, observable indications of the massive changes wrought by both climate change and industrialized farming in our very own lifetimes.

Each year, I watch for monarchs from my Missouri home, during their migration season that carries them over our heads and on their way to Mexico. Each one I spot feels like a brush with magic on the wing, a testament to endurance and to hope. I watch them careen along in their delicate and determined way across highways and rooftops, across cars and parking lots, across my own house, and across open fields. I watch them alight on thistles, on goldenrod and oak trees, vine and bush. I see one above the Atlantic Ocean at Daytona Beach. I see two above the weeds in the Dollar General parking lot in Alabama. I see one above the sunflowers by the overpass in Kansas City. I see two coming over the Walmart roof and into the Staples parking lot in central Missouri.

The Monarch That Didn’t Get Away –Butterfly Tagging, part 2 by Sara Wright

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

Today I learned that everyone is invited to witness butterfly tagging twice a week during the month of September. Efforts to publicize the value and ‘rightness’ of tagging are being stepped up.

Several people agreed with my assessment, namely that tagging creates trauma for the insect – and the idea that this practice may interfere with the butterfly’s ability to survive the 2000-mile journey, winter over successfully and then fly north to reproduce in the spring.

To my knowledge no one else had openly expressed their personal views to those in charge of the organization. However, some folks have come to talk with me. Most of us know that trauma weakens any organism’s immune system making it more vulnerable.

The Monarch That Didn’t Get Away –Butterfly Tagging, part 1 by Sara Wright

The timing couldn’t have been worse. I entered the garden focused on photographing flowers, so I was totally unprepared to see the monarch fluttering around helplessly almost hitting the cement as it attempted to recover its ability to become airborne. Instinctively, I turned away before I realized that what I had just witnessed was the trauma that this butterfly was experiencing after just having been tagged.

This organization’s hope was that some guide or kid in Mexico would find the tagged DEAD body of this monarch somewhere on the ground after the butterfly completed its journey from Maine to its winter stopover in Mexico.

Earth Stories by Sara Wright

Every day I send a FB post into what feels like a Great Void including nature photos that I took around the house or in the woods that morning or the day before. There is always Something. Coalescing early morning thoughts with recent images helps me orient myself to the day to come, reminding me to be Present to Now.

Now is my only Refuge.

In these posts I also hope to capture an audience through image if not through words, introducing or reinforcing people’s positive relationship to nature before it’s too late. My intention is twofold. Help others to see nature in all her wonder, and to encourage folks who read the text to think creatively, to question, to challenge what has been normalized.

Round and Round: The Circle Game by Sara Wright

It’s raining again. In five days, the moon will be full as s/he turns her pearl -like face towards September while her rabbit prepares his treachery, and oh I am so ready to leave this season behind. This is the first year where we have viscerally experienced the reality of what a Changing Climate really means to people in Maine. A summer of floods, months of rain, gray clouds, massive humidity, the worst bugs I ever remember, and poor air quality may force even the most skeptical to pause. Extremes. Of course, what has happened here is nothing like what is going on elsewhere. Tornados, fires, drought, and intense heat have ripped through the rest of the continent tearing both human and non-human lives to shreds. Most of the earth is on fire. I would like to think that we are finally learning that our country is not immune to the unpredictability that comes with climate warming. “You are hopelessly naïve” a Voice states sternly. I bow my head. We are living the Unknown and most are denying it.