Woman, wondrous, wild
daughter of the moon,
mysterious, magnificent
fierce secret keeper
guardian of the universal key.
Woman, wondrous, wild
daughter of the moon,
mysterious, magnificent
fierce secret keeper
guardian of the universal key.
Reblogged because I found this to be a fascinating adventure plus love the art.
Machig Lapdron, female Tantric Buddhist mystic and lineage founder
I’ve just returned from an illuminating trip to Bhutan, high in the Himalayas. Bhutan is a Buddhist kingdom and the world’s youngest democracy.
On our last full day in this enchanting land, my husband and I drove with our guide over the nearly 4000 meter pass of Chelela and into the Haa Valley which doesn’t see that many tourists. Our goal was the Hermitage of Juneydrak, where Machig Lapdron (1055-1145 CE), the famous female Tantric mystic, master, and lineage founder, once meditated.
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See the paintings. With deforestation affecting so much of the world, the idea of trees as sacred is especially appealing and meaningful.
In a world where humans were small and nature was big, surrounded by forests of trees of immense size and stature, it’s not surprising that the ancient Celts came to hold trees as sacred. Like many others, the Celts revered the World Tree or the Tree of Life as the mythic bridge between heaven and earth. The roots reach down and ground with the Earth while the branches spread their canopy up to the heavens.
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A delightful, grown-up retelling of the old story.
Today, I came up with a less patriarchal Garden of Eden story:
Endelyn (age 7): “When I think of my soul, in my name “fire-soul,” I think of a powerful wind.”
Me: “That makes sense, since one of the names in the Bible for God/ess is Ruach, which means “breath” or “wind”, but we call it the Holy Spirit. God/ess is also symbolized by the other elements: fire, air, and earth – like when she shaped Eve and Adam out of clay.”
Endelyn, “What? I don’t remember that story.”
Me: “Oh, ok, I’ll tell you.” ……
Here’s the part where I froze momentarily, thinking “how can I tell my children that misogynist failed mentor story? how? how?” <deep breath>
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Why is the divine feminine so important? What does it promote that values others, our planet? This says everything I could have said myself.
(Spoiler alert: She’s already here)
The power of the divine feminine taps into the power of life. The power is accessible to everyone as the equal opportunity energy surrounding and connecting all living things. The power is ancient, and meditative practices such as yoga, which in Sanskrit means linking to the divine, can connect us to this power. When we make the connection, we find the balance we need to realize our highest selves, and through that balance we can realize the highest self of the larger society. To reclaim the divine feminine, we need only remember, and as more and more of us remember, we heal first ourselves, and ultimately the planet.
1. She is the route back to the self.
In her mother aspect the divine feminine offers a route back to the self and She is all-inclusive. She embraces all of creation, men, women and nature, and we…
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The Girl
She stands alone by the train tracks.
Watching and waiting and dreaming.
Hobos no longer exist.
She remembers reading stories of life
when her great grandmother lived:
hobos begging for food, gypsies stealing
children and telling fortunes, long days
working in the corn fields, chopping weeds.
Her own family praises:
tractors, riding lawn mowers, herbicides, pesticides,
electricity, TVs, dishwashers, muscle cars, MacDonalds,
diet Coke, cell phones, computers, DVDs, iPADs.
Now the only excitement lays in Grand Theft Auto,
guns, and sex. She watches and waits and dreams.
The Woman
She stands alone on the rim,
watching the moon rise,
wondering.
Life flies by on wings
outstretched.
She remembers rich years
filled with long joys, living,
loving,
and temporary sadness, divorces,
moving here and there,
Narrangansett Bay, Utah mountains,
Veracruz,
babies held to breast, blond
and chubby, cafe con leche.
She remembers girlhood longings
for far horizons, traveling
around the world, lovers,
husbands, shades of brown
beauty.
She’s learned to make
her own excitement,
singing Goddess songs,
dancing on the rim of wonder.
Photograph by Anabel McMillen and Painting by Lahib Jaddo
The ancients hunted here at the shores of a lake
nearly 12,000 years ago. In 1929, an amateur
archeologist discovered an ancient spear
point lodged in bone. I walk the mile long trail
down into the depths. Caliche, gravel,
larger rocks strewn by millennia. For
thousands of years Clovis, Folsom, and Portales
Man left remnants of their hunting life.
The scattered cottonwoods whisper in the wind,
timeless voices call me, beckoning.
Who were these people?
What did they look like?
Where did they come from?
In whose gods and goddesses did they believe?
Doubtless hunger drove them to this place of water
and plenty. Columbia Mammoths, giant sloths, dire wolves,
saber toothed cats gathered here for thousands of years.
The diggers found an obsidian spear head with a
bison whose horns spanned seven feet and
mammoths twice the size of elephants.
Saber toothed cats competed with these
ancient ancestors at this place, all driven by
hunger, thirst, and instinct. I wonder how
these people overcame danger, fear?
I walk the mile long path, stand in the shade
of these cottonwood trees , read the signs that
tell me what diggers found at specific spots along the trail.
The cottonwoods whisper to me. They
tell me ancient tales of hunger, strife, fear,
beauty, love, endurance. I hear the ancient voices
calling. They tell me ancient tales of woe, war,
weaponry, courage, and community. My
skin tingles strangely in the summer heat. Now
this land is dry, a desert, the water that sustained
teeming life evaporated in the crystalline air.
Twelve thousand years from now who will stand here?
Will this place exist? Will someone wonder the meaning
of our bones, who we were, what we believed?
I am daughter
of moonlight over desert landscapes
of emptiness and endless expanses.
Too many trees stifle my soul,
enclose
engulf
suffocate
Let me see long,
watch the far horizon,
listen to the wind.
I am daughter
of puma, of jaguar,
stealing through black night
under endless stars.
Alone
wild
free.
Let me wander distances
watchful, timeless.
I am daughter
of the ancients
wise
mysterious
windblown
stark
all knowing.
Let me walk into the sunset
talk with gods.
I am daughter of the universe.
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