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SageWoman Blogs

At SageWoman magazine, we believe that you are the Goddess, and we're devoted to celebrating your journey. We invite you to subscribe today and join our circle...

Here in the SageWoman section of PaganSquare, our bloggers represent the multi-faceted expressions of the Goddess, feminist, and women's spirituality movements.

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Remaining Wild and Untamed

I’ve been sober for 16 years today and tomorrow is the sixth birthday of my firstborn child, the magical synchronicity of the timing of that birth never leave me, as each year for the past six now the focus has shifted from self to her.. I feel ridiculously blessed to have a family who have only known me as a sober wife and mother. The woman I have grown into is one that I am proud to be, my priestessing path is serious and real and a precious practice has grown around all that I offer the world as priestess. Being a wife is a challenging and fulfilling spiritual path and one that I longed for for many moons before meeting my Beloved. Motherhood has knocked my socks off, finally I found a space to put the depth of passion, devotion, loyalty and I'll-die-for-you offering that this scorpio soul always searched for. Life is sweet, it is content, it is peaceful for the most part, it is a warm little dream. And so, at 16 years sober, spiritually fit with a loving and full home I took notice when I felt a stirring within the pit of my stomach, a hungry, growling, dangerous, enlivening stir.

 
I sat with that growl and reflected upon my sobriety and upon the stories that I have heard other sober sisters and brothers share about a beast that some alcoholics claim still lives within them, a beast that always want to drink a beast that will always be there to tear their life down if they feed it. As I reflected upon this beast and felt into my own inner stirrings of wildness I began to hypothesize that perhaps there's no alcoholic beast thirsting for a drink within us sober recovering souls at all, perhaps this sensation, this wildness in my gut was really a thirst for wildness and perhaps this hunger and thirst isn't specific to alcoholics only. 
 
The world tries to tame the wildness out of us, I see it every day as people wrinkle their noses at my wild maiden's unconstrained expression of emotions, it tries to box us in, to conform us, to quiet us and to dull us. When I think about my years before sobriety I remember the wildness that reigned untamed, complete destruction was the guiding force of my life and there was a thrilling sense of liberation in the lack of utter caring about how I appeared, how I hurt myself, what I did and who knew that I was doing it, all that mattered in those years was my quest for complete and utter annihilation and in those destructive years nothing and no-one could box me in. That was the only taste of freedom that I knew. To this day I make no bones about the fact that destruction is wildness, yet my soul will not be tamed it seems and so with destruction being wildness I have often wondered, on days like today when I feel that hunger stir, if destruction is wild why am I longing for it? Are there other forms of wildness beyond destruction? Can destruction be channeled in a manner that serves through what it destroys rather than ruins all that it touches? Is freedom and wildness synonymous?
 
These questions are quests in and of themselves, at the core of this quest I believe is a universal need, we all need to be wild and free, we need to be in order to fully merge into our Source selves. The role of the priestess after all is to merge this human experience with the experience of divinity, perhaps reconnecting to my wild self is the bridge that meets human with divine and this is why my soul will not slumber and my thirst remains unquenched.
 
On my priestess path I have come to the conclusion that yes, destruction can serve, in fact, the Destroyer is an archetypal expression of the Goddess, one that I know intimately as a continuously transmuting scorpio soul. When called upon in sovereignty the Destroyer sweeps in and destroys all that does not serve, rather than being out of my mind unconscious, under the spell of chemicals that my human vessel cannot safely ingest and haphazardly wielding around destructive spells that harm me and all those that I come into contact with, now I can channel the Destroyer within me and direct that energy towards all that stands between my Source self and I. There is freedom in this kind of destruction as it ensures that this world does not wear to closely on me and this destructive force challenges me to evaluate all that I have attachments to. There are other forms of wildness I have found in these past 16 years as well, the wildness of love, the wildness of birth, the wildness of untouched nature, the wildness of authenticity, yes there are many forms of wildness that I have discovered in consciousness and now it is my duty to keep my wildness alive and thriving and to do so in a way that serves humanity rather than adds to it's destruction.
 
16 years of sobriety and 6 years of motherhood is challenging me to stay wild, to stay authentic and to remain free. There are no social constructs of domesticity, age or gender that will hold my spirit back, when I feel that growl from within the pit of my stomach I welcome it and feed it with a healthy dose of freedom as I call upon the Destroyer archetype that is a part of my Goddess self to burn my attachments away and return to the nature of who I am in the regions of consciousness that remain pure, untouched and uninfluenced by the 3D matrix I have chosen to dive into for the time being. 
 
I will not allow the constructs that the patriarchy attempts to weave box me in.
I will not allow my wild nature to be tamed.
I will not slumber into unconsciousness..
I will not allow words such as 'sobriety', 'marriage' or 'motherhood' to dull my spark, rather will they be initiatory frequencies that I expand from.
I will remain wild.
I will remain free.
I will remain untamed.
I will remain sovereign.
I will remain priestess.
 
While we are on this embodied journey together, I hope to run into you, sister, brother, running, soaring, diving deeply around the spiral wheel, free, unfettered and utterly wild.
 
Cheers to 16 years!
 
Grace Be With You,
Priestess of Grace,
Candise Soaring Butterfly 
 
 
Image taken from http://www.reikilorient.com/2017/03/le-sacre-feminin.html
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"Just breathe"

Such a simple statement. A reminder to just breathe. Why do we say that? Does it really help?

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Autumn is here and winter will be here soon... As the wheel turns its good too to set our energetic houses in order, in preparation for the new season. Equally there are times in life when the next stage, the next move to make in life is unclear. Stress, worry, negative energy can come into our lives in a variety of ways for a variety of reasons, and sometimes the only thing to do is be prepared to wade through some deep dark waters for a while- or even dive deeper trusting in the journey that in time you will come through to easier times. However, while struggle, and even a lack of clarity is all part of the rhythm of life from time to time, there are always pro-active things that can be done to help re-set and re-connect with the navigating forces in our lives once more. Whether its illness, depression, money worries, politics or a whole host of other challenges, there is always something we can do, to just make a small shift, that may set up some positive ripples in our energy.

 

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Celebrating the Spiders

We don’t have any seriously dangerous spiders here in the UK – they can bite, and bites aren’t delightful, but on the whole our spiders are harmless, friendly creatures who like to hang out in our homes. Autumn seems to be spider season. I always see more of them at this time of year, and the larger ones tend to appear more often now.

Spiders eat all kinds of other things that may get into your home to do you no good at all. They’re allies, and will take out things like clothes moths, mosquitoes and other bitey, unpleasant visitors. If you live somewhere with dangerous spiders, there’s a decent chance that a less dangerous spider might actually help you keep the scary ones out, even!

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And One is Gone

It's hard, but I've adjusted to so many changes in my life. Job changes, starting a business, two high school graduations, son going to college - but doing so online. Then this hits me, my middle daughter, the one that has been nicknamed the emotional support child for so many - including me, has left for college. 

She is my artist (painted the picture above), my crafter of jewelry, may painter of cups/ornaments/bowls, and has gown into my coffee/tea date, coworker at our shop, picker-up of emergency groceries, taxi for the youngest, and often comic relief. She was the one who was never going to leave me, telling her dad and I the dreams she had of building a house right next to ours and "borrowing" our land so she could have a couple highland coo and sheep.

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I chose not to follow crows today,b2ap3_thumbnail_69344062_2412917695587105_7552633619886374912_o.jpg
but turned away
to follow the mist instead,
descending down a rocky hill
and into an underworld of my own making,
in which I laid aside
the pressures of pleasantness

and considered how it would feel
to lay my drive down
across the stones too
and walk away,
leaving it gasping in surrender
between a flattened cracker of frog
and finality.

I knelt beside blue chicory
with a cloak of white fog across my shoulders
feeling weary of smiling,
thin of patience,
and with only a thread of faded magic
beating feebly beneath my skin.
I pondered messages from purple asters,
gravel beneath my knees,
and resisted reaching for rosehips
through the ebbing bowers of poison ivy.

An unripe persimmon, gleaming purple-red
below the bright white sky,
rolled into my path
and as I made my way back up the hill
two vultures rose silent and hulking from the trees,
so close I heard their feathers whispering together.
I felt an ember quicken quietly
beneath my breast
and on the gliding motion of broad wings,
I was reminded that we can always
choose which way to go,
and that even thin and tattered magic
is worth
savoring.

 

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  • Jamie
    Jamie says #
    Molly, That's really nice. Thanks for sharing! Life is hard...it's only a cliche because it's true.
Genetic Healing and Multidimensional Soaring, With Sound

 The County rolls on … shifts, moves, roars around me as I write at The Regent Cafe. The County I’m referring to is that of Prince Edward, in Ontario, but locally it’s simply known as The County. It’s the end of July, end of the Strong Sun Moon and the island is buzzing with tourists. Many come to camp at Sandbanks Provincial Park, a fourteen mile stretch of white sand beach that includes constantly changing sand dunes as hurricanes and unusual phenomenon occasionally grip this island in Lake Ontario. The new moon that begins soon is the Ripe Berries Moon, but in Ontario and other places the two moon cycles seem to have amalgamated. The berries have been ripe for ages. Blackcaps, raspberries, blueberries, mulberries and wild gooseberries. My favourites are raspberries, pungent, flavourful, and sweet; the red color a good one for someone postmenopausal.

You have likely heard that the Earth's speed is shifting. It’s not revolving at 50 KM anymore, it’s spinning much faster. My spirit guides have announced that the magnetics on earth are swiftly changing. This has been predicted many moons ago by the Aztecs, Mayans and me, a Mennonite lass. I wrote about these times of awakening and Earth changes and how they will be accelerating in 2004, in a book, titled, AWAKE! A Spiritual Primer. It is still in print in 2019.

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