Women’s Voices – Page 23 – Feminism and Religion

“I Don’t Want to Be “More Feminine”: Deconstructing Gender Together by Elizabeth Jenkins

Long, long ago, back before I met my husband, I met another young man at (my former) church.

I thought he was cute, fun, and funny. We spent a few months meeting up regularly for lunch, dinner, or boba. Always talking, always laughing.

Never doing anything that clearly wasn’t just friendship. Never defining the relationship.

Eventually, I noticed that he wasn’t initiating as much as he used to. I figured he was probably losing interest in anything potentially romantic, but I wanted to make sure I wasn’t misunderstanding. So, over bubble tea drinks, I asked if he could clarify how he understood what we’d been doing these last few months—did he see it as a friendship or as dating?

GRANDMOTHER MOON by Iona Jenkins

Blue Supermoon at 9.30p.m. on 30th August 2023

This year, the full moon on 30^th August, which was a Super Moon, is also called Blue Moon – the name given to a second full moon occurring in the same month. I stayed up meditating and reflecting, because the rising of this moon flooded both my front room and my awareness with a light of great beauty. Beginning gold, she changed into a robe of silver, and eventually pearl white, with a crown of pastel shades, in her vault of luminous blue flecked with white feathered clouds. The full moon is always an inspiration, a Goddess who lights up the psyche, revealing hidden shadows to be faced, firing intuition, or illuminating the soul with her timeless wisdom. She has become my good friend over the years, and in my life as an elder human being, she offers me inspiration, visions of creative wisdom and possibility on those gold and silver paths stretching between the shores of Wales and The County of Somerset in England.

Archives from the FAR Founders: Feminist Gutter Punk Freedom by Xochitl Alvizo

This was originally posted on October 3, 2017. My brother has since died, not so long ago on June 12, 2023. But I keep needing this lessons, his wisdom. I recently (about two weeks ago) broke my foot and life is different without the mobility I am used to. So this archive post is a good word for me in yet another moment of life’s struggles.

My brother is, in this own words, an “old school street, squatter, gutter punk.” Indeed, he lives outside the system. He is an anarchist atheist and has lived many nights of his life on the streets – by choice. He has a quick and easy smile and makes friends effortlessly. Recently, while stuck in Seattle during an extended layover on his way back to Europe, where he’s been living the last few years, he passed the time making new friends and exploring the immediate area –

– he even found a sign greeting him by name (he goes by Lou).

HONEY SELLERS by Kapka Kassabova with Intro by Laura Shannon

Introduction to Kapka Kassabova’s ‘Honey Sellers‘, by Laura Shannon

Kapka Kassabova. Author photo by Tony Davidson. Used by permission.

After my recent review of Kapka Kassabova’s latest book, Elixir: The Valley at the End of Time, I am delighted to share an excerpt from Elixir with FAR readers here, by kind permission of the author and the publisher.

Elixir is an astounding book, revealing a little-known world of foragers, healers, and mystics in a remote corner of Bulgaria. Here people live in profound connection to nature, with respect for herbs and the earth and older women, echoing the peaceful Neolithic civilisations which once flourished in the same valley Kassabova describes.

Snapshots from the Parliament of World Religions by Janet Maika’i Rudolph

The Parliament of World Religions ran from Aug 14^th to the 18^thin Chicago. I returned with my head spinning having met new people, connected with inspiring beliefs, discussed fascinating ideas, watched meaningful performances, engaged in sacred play, danced, sang, cried, ate, and mostly experienced . . . just experienced. It is still overwhelming to sort out individual experiences. I am going to write up a few of my impressions, snapshot style. They scratch the surface, not only of my individual experience but of the Parliament in general where upwards of 7,000 people attended. It was incredible

Setting the tableau: As I was going down the escalator, a woman was followed by 2 groups were heading up. The woman was beautiful and young in full Mayan dress with white blouse, long orange skirt along with headdress and belt with Mayan symbols. Her thick dark hair was flowing down her back.

She was followed by five Sikh men who were dressed head to foot in white. Their heads and hair were covered by white turbans.

They were followed by two Buddhist nuns dressed in grey robes carrying beads. Their heads were shaved.

Such scenes were common.

Fear and Need in the Absence of Mother God, part 2 by Caryn MacGrandle

Yesterday’s part 1 post quoted from the book, The Malleus Maleficarum

Witches Well in Edinburgh, Scotland, …the Roman numerals for 1479 on one side and 1722 [years when witch persecution was most prominent]

The book wasn’t just a message for women but for all. The tenets that formed the backbone of colonial culture:

Paddle your own canoe.
Success comes with hard individual effort when you stay within the lines that we draw.
And if you fail? Well, that’s on you.
Maybe you will get another shot if you are lucky, work relentlessly and act as you should.
And never ever forget that your worth is defined by the number of 0’s in your bank account.

Why We Need to Bring Back God as a Woman, part 1 by Caryn MacGrandle

26,000 years ago, life was precarious and dangerous. And so the human race revered the Mother. Mother Earth, who provided food amidst scarcity, protection from the dangers of the wild and healthy babies who grew to adulthood.

The Goddess.

In her many forms.

Some of these Goddesses.

Venus of Willendorf. The artifact known as the Venus of Willendorf dates to between 24,000–22,000 B.C.E., making it one of the oldest and most famous surviving works of art.

OMÓS DO SINÉAD O’Connor by Rev. Nóirín Ní Riain

Sinéad contacted me for the first time in 1995 asking me if I would teach her some Gregorian Chant. I was living in Glenstal Abbey at the time and she came to my home to spend a few days with me.

I was working on a doctorate then on the Sound of God and we had great conversations in between moments of teaching and at meal times. She was an extraordinary student. Sing her a phrase and she had it immediately; sing to her an entire chant, no notes taken, but she could sing it straight back to you. She loved Gregorian chant and in the afternoons, we would steal into the church and try out the morning’s learnings. One evening in particular I shall never forget. We went up to Compline – Night Prayer at 8.35pm. Afterwards, one of the community, Br. Ciarán, came down to us and Sinéad asked him if she could sing the hymn which the community had just sung once the monks had left. She did and indeed it became her favourite encore at many concerts she gave at that time.

From the Archives: Every Bird in the Mountains: Wisdom for this Climate Moment by Tallessyn Zawn Grenfell-Lee

This was originally posted on April 17, 2o21

I found a bird’s nest the other day. A perfect, round little nest, with five pale blue speckled eggs. I’ve been working for several years to figure out how to support the birds who share our yard, with bird feeders, leaf litter and better soil for caterpillars and worms to feed the baby birds, yellow LED outdoor lights, and native plantings to attract more insects and pollinators. I knew that songbird populations are struggling, but lately I’ve learned even more about their truly worrying decline, and how we can all create ‘homegrown natural parks’ to help. It’s been a deep source of joy and hope, through the long pandemic, to see the tufted titmice, dapper chickadees, and bright red cardinals at our feeders, and the soft gray juncos hopping about on the ground. When we moved here a few years ago, a bird’s nest appeared right above the floodlight on our deck, and we got to see and hear the wee fledglings that spring, as if they were welcoming us to our common home. We loved those baby birds, and I’ve often wondered whether they are now among the visitors that seem drawn to the window feeder whenever we start to play music.

Free Write at the Turning of the Wheel by Sara Wright

Pink plastic barbies in a pink plastic world they said it was great it was garbage insulting every feminist I know – as for ecofeminism – well it must be dead am i dead too? – how could an earth lover survive in a plastic world with plastic pink barbies I barely made two hours? -oh yes a few colors they had to didn’t they? And the hourglass figures dominated the dolls that tip over because they are so tall even without high heels – an insane movie full of patriarchal lies and this is our culture – constructed out of lies – i left in confusion – people i trusted said a “must see” – turns out one, a professor that recommended it hadn’t seen it – had been seduced by reviews – who doesn’t believe the new york times besides me ?– thick humidity greeted me at the door after the pink charade – oh something alive captures me from a ten inch tree – two rosy apples ignite a soul dead corpse – yet another torrential downpour blurred my