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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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Pollyanna of the Apocalypse Makes Soup

On Thanksgiving I began a spell to nourish family and friends, witches, pagans, and christians, neighbors and strangers through the shortest days and longest nights of a stunningly painful year careening to its end.  On Thanksgiving I began to make soup.

 

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A Serpentine Path: Mysteries of the Goddess Is Published! by Carol P. Christ

This is a great day for me as I announce the publication of A Serpentine Path: Mysteries of the Goddess. It is the first —but certainly not the last—book from the new Far Press, directed by Gina Messina and Xochitl Alvizo, two of the founders of www.feminismandreligion.com. I hope you will join with us in celebrating our joint venture by ordering the book, telling your friends about it, sharing it (links below), reviewing it on Amazon, and letting Gina and Xochitl know if you can review in a magazine, journal, or blog.

Here is an excerpt from the preface to whet your appetite.

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A Serpentine Path is a story that begins in despair and ends in rebirth and regeneration. It depicts a turning point in my life, a psychological and spiritual breakthrough that opened me to living the rest of my life in grace and joy. Though I am tempted to say it was a journey from darkness to light, that would be inaccurate, for mine was a journey into the darkness and out again. The path of life is never straight or narrow, and the circle of light and darkness is never-ending.

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  "She is dark," I whispered when I first saw our Lady of Guadalupe at the Ponce Cathedral.

   "Yes, she is morena and small.  This is why she is called La Morenita (little dark skinned female)."  Abuela continued: "Most of the Virgins are blond, blue eyed, and white.  But La Morenita is all-powerful."

  I still remember that moment as if it was yesterday.  I was nine years old when I first encountered La Guadalupe.  I traveled with Abuela from my hometown Yabucoa, a small town on the southeast coast of Puerto Rico, to Ponce, the island's second major city.  We were going to visit Abuela's relatives. 

  "First things first, " Abuela announced when we arrived. "We will go the Ponce Cathedral to pay our respects to the Virgin of Guadalupe."

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Recent Comments - Show all comments
  • Lizann Bassham
    Lizann Bassham says #
    This is exquisite - thank you for the gift of this column.
  • Lillian Comas
    Lillian Comas says #
    Hi Lizann: Thank you so much for your kind words. I really appreciate them.

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"The winter solstice happens in nature around us.  But it also happens inside of us, in our souls.  It can happen inside of us is summer or winter, spring or fall.   In the dark place of our soul, we carry secret wishes, pains, frustrations, loneliness, fears, regrets, worries.  Darkness is not something to be afraid of.  Sometimes we go to the dark place of our soul, where we can find safety and comfort.  In the dark place in our soul we can find rest and rejuvenation.  In the dark place of our soul we can find balance.  And when we have rested, and been comforted, and restored, we can return from the dark place in our soul to the world of light and new possibilities."

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Gaia's Fires in the Cold of Winter

The Solstice is upon us and the chill of Winter is reaching deeply into bone. This year, in particular, is one that has tested the boundaries of cold and feeling isolated in a vast tundra of unknowing”ness”. Things change from season to season and in the never ending cycle that is life itself, Gaia remains steadfast and strong in offering up her body as our home and our refuge as Her fires burn brightly. 

Even though I know this to be true, the memory of her fires fades as the Light of the Solstice returns and Summer takes hold. But now, this is the time of remembering as the nights have grown longer and the cold seeps in, and I feel a chill that cannot be heated by physical warmth. This is a cold that holds the space of awaiting the stoking of the inner fires that resonate with that of Gaia and fuel the yearning, to once again, be held in her embrace. 

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Today, I am a Flamekeeper of Brighid

 The longest night is upon us. For three short days, we have watched the watery sun rise and set in the same place on the horizon, barely skimming the treetops at its highest point, filmed over by hazy clouds. This morning, it was impossible to tell just when the sun had risen, and indeed even though it has been up for half an hour, it's just as dark as before, with heavy overcast skies letting in only a small amount of light. I lit a candle in my lantern dedicated to Brighid just as the sun rose somewhere behind the clouds, and in Her name I lit my solstice flame. The candle's flame burns very low, just barely alight as it struggles amidst a pool of wax and an insufficient wick. There is the tiniest amount of light at the tip, with a small blue aura beneath. I look at it even as I type these words, and its struggle portends much to come.  

It has been a difficult year for many. Across the Western world, we have been rocked by unprecedented political change. There is not much hope for the future. Political leaders do not have the common good in mind, and greed runs riot. Things have not changed for the better. Across the globe, war, strife and unrest rage, with millions of innocent beings suffering.  And there is still more darkness to come.  

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Winter Solstice

It’s not that the light returns—it hasn’t really ever gone anywhere. It’s that by the time of this longest night, shortest day, we’re desperate to find our way back to anything that looks like the warm shining window of home. Whew! Like shamans who have traveled too far out on a path that didn’t exactly have a beginning or middle, let alone an end, we’re suddenly faced with the stark emptiness of the Illusion of Dark.

Come on! Wemoon know magic stronger than these scary B-movies playing out everywhere in the world around us. We know something deeper than “the end is near!”

We can dance clear through walls—right through infinities of incoherence, right past looming mirages of the united corporations of fear. This is the turning, this moment. Together now let’s reach into the soul’s medicine bundle, down into the hidden womb pocket, and pull out the quantum seed, the essential speck that is both Dark and Light, both End and Beginning. It is in our hands.

It is Now!

Miriam Dyak © Mother Tongue Ink 2015


Miriam Dyak (Seattle, WA) All my life is poetry. Close to 60 years of
writing poems, journals, books and not about to stop. I am a Social Artist,
Voice Dialogue facilitator and teacher, dream weaver, gardener of souls.

Carrie Wachter (Gainesville, FL) is a self-taught artist creating
intuitively visionary paintings of the beauty, wisdom and power of women and
the Spirit of Nature that connects us all.

 

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