Mother Earth – Page 10 – Feminism and Religion

Embrace Fearlessly this Burning World by Sara Wright

“Attention is the rarest and purest form of generosity”.
Barry Lopez

The older I get the more I realize that being able to pay attention is the greatest gift especially in what Lopez calls ‘this burning world’.

Every day there is an opportunity to engage with some aspect of the rest of nature, no matter how despondent I might feel. Because early spring is a difficult time for me, I try to discipline myself to open nature’s door daily because it is in these timeless moments, I get caught by the ephemeral Now.

Last week before the storm that would later drop another two feet of snow at my door I decided to visit and feed the two geese thinking that they might appreciate extra food. I also had a nagging sense they might be calling me.

Margins for Magic, by Molly Remer

My ritual today
is to forgive myself
and to begin again
with what I have….

A rite of renewal:
Step out under the sky
whether it holds thunder or sun.
Rest your hands against your heart.
Say: I am here.
I am grateful.
Open your arms to the sky.
Feel air soothe you
and wind bless you.
Say: I am radiant in my wholeness.
I am loved.
Sweep your arms down
to touch the Earth (or the floor.)
Say: I am connected.
I belong.
Settle your hands against your belly.
Say: I am centered.
I am powerful.
I am strong.
Return your hands to your heart.
Wait.
The sacred will meet you here.

We pause today in the middle of the road to listen to a mockingbird perched in a crabapple tree by an abandoned house. In clear and rapid succession, it runs through its impressive repertoire: Phoebe, cardinal, chickadee, titmouse, laser-gun, a few extra trills and beeps and back again. We stand, heads cocked and silent, to experience the performance before walking on with a smile, pausing again to inhale deeply as we pass the wild plum trees so sweet and fleeting. I have been preoccupied with projects, feeling bright, creative energy burgeon inside me as it does around me, so many things tug at the mind and ask for time, leaving my dreams restless, my eyes wild, and my mind awhirl with both pressure and possibility, a persistent urgency that calls me on and away and out of being where I am. On the way back home, we stop again because there are five red winged blackbirds, conversing by the neighbor’s pond and we circle through the grass to examine white flowers in the pear trees and to check for peach blossoms (none). I love spring in Missouri, it restores and nourishes me. It reminds me I am home. I sit with my tea listening to a distant chainsaw and the wild turkeys in their rites of spring, a light rustle of wind, and the clinking of my flattened spoon wind-chimes from years gone by. A lone crow glides in to alight on an oak tree beneath the sun. It tips back and forth briefly, wings a satin shimmer in the sunbeams and then drifts away like a black kite through the spring sunshine. I have joked that the description of my next book could be: “I sat. I saw these things.” And, this is true, for I did, and this is my news for today.

Goddess in a Twig by Sara Wright

In 2024, science seems to be catching up with reality. “A rapid succession of peer-reviewed studies and reports all point to a single unambiguous conclusion: that Canada’s unqualified claims of ‘sustainable forest management’ belie a reality of widespread forest degradation”.

Almost 36 million acres of forests have been clear cut in Quebec and Ontario alone. Canada still has six percent of old growth forests left but clear cuts almost exclusively. Maine has one tenth of a percent of old forests remaining but says it maintains a few limits on clear cuts (the research is ambiguous and around me we have mostly clear-cut mountains, so I am deeply suspicious).

Why should we care?

A new crop of trees will be moving north into Canada along with the rest of the migrants (birds, animals, understory/woodland plants) because of a warming climate and loss of habitat. Too many people.

Saving the Mother Trees by Sara Wright

I am submitting this essay on March 25^th, the original Mother’s Day according to some pre – Christian mythology. It seems important to be writing about the ‘Old’ Trees of Life, today, of all days.

Sixty years ago, Suzanne Simard intuited that the trees in the forests that she and her family logged (with horses) were all connected and operated as a complex cooperative living organism. Trees, understory plants, flowers, insects, animals, fish, and fungi were all parts of one integrated whole.

Suzanne was a trailblazer, one of the first females to graduate from the University of British Columbia as a forester. Her first job seemed daunting. It was up to Suzanne to determine why some newly planted tree seedlings kept dying.

Understory – Spring Meditation by Sara Wright

Time stretches, folds back on herself as I gaze out the window squared by the four directions. A slanted sun glows golden green in early twilight. How comforting to see the trees rotting on the ground and new green wrapped all around me like a cape. The hemlock branches are almost black against the sun that sets early in the gorge. The phoebes are still – a few leaves flutter – lemon lime emerald – we haven’t names for all the impossible hues of green. I am suspended. All thought disappears into shadowy sheltering hemlock and pine against a darkening sky – the day is fading into twilight…. To be steeped in green is to be blessed by the trees who will get to live out their lives as Nature intended because of the people who cared enough to save these forests – a gift for all who see…. Beyond the window a steep gorge has sprung to life – jewelweed and oxalis bubbling out of stone. Crystalline water flows down the hillside…It is clear to me why springs were experienced as holy places. The crisscrossing of downed trees fallen under wind and winter weather is nourishing the next generation of seedlings. Fallen birches send anti- bacterial mycorrhizal mycelial fungal threads to protect other trees and plants from disease. We know almost nothing except that the skin of this precious earth holds the seeds of new life. No wonder I can sleep…

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.