earth based spirituality – Page 5 – Feminism and Religion

‘Forget Me Not’ by Sara Wright

As if I could.

Almost three days of spring flooding seems so normal now that I expect it. Hard to believe it’s only been raining like this for less than a year. A warming climate creates torrential rain, three to five feet of snow at once, wildly fluctuating temperature shifts and who knows what else. After all, this is just the beginning. The end is out of sight.

One robin awakened me this morning with a symphony and kept up his chorale for an hour. It was still raining then but robin warbled on, harbinger of spring.

Today was the day I promised myself I’d tackle the cellar, now flooded even with a sump pump that runs around the clock. Our poor patch of northern earth is just too saturated.

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.

Poems by Annelinde Metzner

For a number of years, I’ve been staying at the St. Helena’s Island, South Carolina home of Ifetayo White, Reiki Master, teacher of doulas, and healer in many modalities. I am always deeply healed by Ifetayo’s presence, and by the island itself. This island near Beaufort is the home of the Gullah people, who have kept their land since Reconstruction according to a legal system called “Heir’s Property.”

The spirits are strong here, and I’ve tried to capture some of the essence of the island and of Ifetayo, in these poems. In the first, I describe Ifetayo’s wonderful healing room. The second features the Grandmother Tree, one of the live oaks covered with Spanish moss, so prevalent in the Low Country. The third features the Resurrection Fern, which appears brown and almost dead on the limbs of the oaks, but springs into vivid greenness after a rain.

New Beginnings: Sedum tells a Story by Sara Wright

Almost two weeks ago my beloved Vet retired from the Bethel Animal Hospital. He will continue his healing acupuncture practice elsewhere part-time, but he will no longer be at the clinic. For regular acupuncture and all serious issues with my two dogs (one has been seriously ill for the last few years) he will work in conjunction with a new vet who I have yet to meet.

He has assured me that I will like Shelby, the woman he has chosen for us. I do trust his judgement.

I desperately wanted Gary to retire for health reasons last fall and spoke to him about it. We have been very close friends for many years, and it had become obvious to me that it was time. His wife felt the same way. He made the final decision to retire in November. My personal sense of loss was hidden under the shadow of my deep concern for him.

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.

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.

Black Bird Ballet by Sara Wright

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.

The Natural History of Starlings by Sara Wright

Last week Sara wrote about her and her family’s personal connection to starling. You can read it here.

Amazingly, all the European starlings in this country descended from 100 birds that were deliberately set loose in New York’s Central Park in the 1890’s by colonists who wanted to see the birds they missed after immigrating to the US. Soon there were more than two million birds that ranged from Alaska to Mexico. All are closely related. Sometimes if a female misses the first nesting she will try to lay an egg in other bird’s nests. They are wonderful mimics learning the calls of up to 20 species of birds like the pewee, killdeer, wood thrush, red tailed hawk and robin to mention a few.

Starlings turn from spotted and white to glossy and dark each year without shedding their feathers. The new feathers that grow in have white tips. These are the spots that disappear by spring as the feathers turn dark and glossy. These birds are incredibly strong fliers as is evidenced by the extraordinary starling murmurations that still occur throughout the fall and winter all over Europe.

First Call to Ceremony by Sara Wright

I prepare for winter by tipping sweet balsam to make my wreath. Always an intentional undertaking, I honor all evergreens during this month and next as I weave myself into the Circle of Life with fragrant boughs…

I gather my balsam candles and put lights on my little Norfolk Island Pine in preparation for the Festival of Fire, scattering crimson cranberries around her base. Adding acorns, hemlock cones, moss and lichen attach me to ‘All There Is’.

Inside and outside are One…

“I am a lady in waiting”… I have learned that Nature decides when it’s time to engage in any ceremony that helps spin the wheel – I listen for the call.