In the earliest of times, I believe humans did not see themselves as separate from all that was around them. All of life was interdependent. I see this in my own practice today. When we are born, we are born to a mother. Our lives are solely dependent on her for survival. We are birthed by her, nourished by her, protected by her, and sometimes forced out to experience on our own, by her. She is at first, our own Original Uncultured Mother. Once we move from her shelter, we begin to experience our world in the same way, looking not only for what nourishes, what protects and what shelters, but also for what we need to be mindful of for our own safety, those forces far out of our control. Those forces, which were uncontrollable, the ancients held in high esteem, and honored with reverence.
Continue reading “My Original Uncultured Mother by Deanne Quarrie”
This past week my daughter, Sarah and I had a conversation about God:
There’s this thing that happens to advocates when the world around us burns with injustice and fury and we shift into what we know, the holding-fighting, fierce-eyed, tender-hearted caring that pours out compassion and links lives with survivors, shedding trails of sweetness as it goes. It’s a professional skillset and personal practice — a vocation, even? — that girds our own hearts with the structure of listening skills, crisis response, and open-ended questions. We wrap ourselves in the safety of our modalities while we float steadily alongside others, occasionally sharing an oar when someone is stuck.
Feminism and Religion 