I have Truths

and I'm ok with that. There are fundamental Truths in my life that I'm not willing to compromise on or change in anyway. Sometimes they come into conflict with mainstream society, or family, but that's ok. There are things one has to hold in one's heart despite what everyone else thinks or says because those things are what make a person.

An thing must be true to it's nature. A tiger must hunt. A dog must track. A plant must grow. To punish something for its' nature is wrong. It's only doing what it must to survive, to live a full and happy life. A person who lives true to their nature is the same. Both Nature and Nurturing have a hand in who we are and that needs to be taken into account when dealing with people.

All humans, no matter their age, need to be loved, nourished and protected. I believe strongly that the Universal Declaration of Human Rights should be a legally binding document that supercedes any and all other gov't law, no matter the level (fed, prov/state, municipal).

A simple, happy life is not something to be looked down on. One does not need a 52" flat-screen tv or a four bedroom house to be happy. One does not need three cars or fancy china or silverwear to have a meaningful life. All a person really needs is to have enough; enough food, water and adequate shelter to be comfortable and safe, and something else that gives their life meaning--job, family, hobby, whatever. By not wanting to aspire to great heights I find myself content with the valleys. I need no castle on the hill, just four sturdy walls, a full fridge and the bills paid.

Love is the greatest thing of all, and truly, all one needs is love. If one is loved, one will have everything they need because those who truly love one another would never let someone go without. Families who love each member truly and equally help each other through the bad times, supporting those who have less by those who have more. Neighbourhoods and cities who care about those who live within their boundaries are the same. Nations that care for their people are also the same. Love of self, love of each other, and love of the earth are all we need. Why is this so hard?

Thankful, peaceful

Dear God, we give thanks for places of simplicity and peace. Let us find such a place within ourselves. We give thanks for places of refuge and beauty. Let us find such a place within ourselves. We give thanks for places of nature's truth and freedom, of joy, inspiration and renewal, places where all creatures may find acceptance and belonging. Let us search for these places: in the world, in ourselves and others. Let us restore them. Let us strengthen and protect them and let us create them.
May we mend this outer world according to the truth of our inner life and may our souls be shaped and nourished by nature's eternal wisdom. Amen.
~Michael Leunig, Australian cartoonist and Living Treasure, from the book Peace Prayers

Sometimes I just open books and say "Show me something!" and They do.

A new thought

“Over the last few weeks I have begun to confront that my life, my actual existence, is a direct result of two people wanting to have another human being to share their love with, and this has been a humbling realization.” From A Celebration of Curves, found at www.acelebrationofcurves.com

It was an odd thought, a new thought for me. Both my sister and I were planned babies; our parents waited until quite a while after they were married before my sister was born, and then another 3 years for me. My emotional relationship with my parents has been...distant. I'm not sure if I can say they've done the best they can, or maybe they have but it's still not been enough. So to think about the idea that we were were planned, we were wanted, is completely new. Have I ever felt unwanted or unloved? I don't think so, but that sense of closeness has gotten very very infrequent as we got older, their belief we should do things on our own taking over from protective and loving care. It's created a real rift, at least for me, one that is deep, filled with a knowing that I can't count on them. I would like to be able to say that there isnt' anything they wouldnt' do for me, that there isn't a mountain they wouldn't move or something they wouldn't give if I needed it, but I'm not sure if I'd be lying or not. That troubles me.

It troubles me and makes me wonder about my own ability to be a parent, and how Gabe was not planned, that he was a surprise, that our other potential child was a surprise. If and when I get pregnant again, I want it to be planned, not a surprise. I'm tired of the stick turning blue or whatever and me thinking "Oh fuck." I want the stick to turn and for me to be happy, for Ryan and Gabe to be happy too. For it to be the right time, not the worst time. To not be afraid of losing my mind, of hurting myself or my new child, to be strong enough. I'm afraid that when Gabe gets older, I might distance myself from him more than I already have, that I'll push him out the door in order to make him independant and strong, but in reality, all it will do is make him doubt.

All Soul's Night

Hallowe'en is coming up and for the first time in a few years I'm not going to be with my group. Thankfully I have noone to mourn, not this year, and my wounds are healed enough that I don't feel the need to grieve for myself. That being said, I'm posting up the lyrics below because though I may have noone who has freshly passed over, there are those who are gone who deserve to be remembered; Grandpa, Doug, Marie, and one other without a name.

All Soul's Night by Loreena McKennitt

Bonfires dot the rolling hillsides
Figures dance around and around
To drums that pulse out echoes of darkness
Moving to the pagan sound.

Somewhere in a hidden memory
Images float before my eyes
Of fragrant nights of straw and of bonfires
Dancing 'til the next sunrise.

CHORUS:
I can see the lights in the distance
Trembling in the dark cloak of night
Candles and lanterns are dancing, dancing
A waltz on All...All Souls Night.

Figures of cornstalks bend in the shadows
Held up tall as the flames leap high
The Green Knight holds the holly bush
To mark where the Old Year passes by.

CHORUS

Bonfires dot the rolling hillsides
Figures dance around and around
To drums that pulse out echoes of darkness
Moving to the pagan sound.

Standing on the bridge that crosses
The river that runs out to the sea
The wind is full of a thousand voices
They pass by the bridge and me.

CHORUS TWICE

The Starfish Story

A little girl is on a beach during low tide. Many thousands of starfish are stranded; the tide rolled out quick, the sun is hot, the seagulls are hungry.
The little girl is picking up starfish and tossing them back in the water one by one. A little boy comes up, "It doesn't make a diffrence," he says "You can't save them all."
She picks up another, tosses it back into the ocean and says "Made a difference to that one."

As told to me by my friend Nathan.

I can't save all the starfish, and I can't stop the tide from tossing them all over, but I can help some of them, and I will.

Ebisu continued

So I pointed Nathan in this direction tonight and we got chatting about archetypes which led to some kind of a visionary episode for him to share with me. Sometimes it happens, only usually it's the other way around, me giving info to someone else. It was nice to have them speak to me through someone else. The convo is below.

Nathan: there are things here I do not follow
I pride myself on being able to follow most theology talk
Curvy-wench is watching Grey's on DVD says:
In my blog, things you don't follow?
Nathan says:
si
Curvy-wench is watching Grey's on DVD says:
Ok, what don't you get?
Nathan says:
how did you find him? How is he relevant to you?
Curvy-wench is watching Grey's on DVD says:
Oh, I found him through a lj post that I follow, Men in Full. He was featured there because he's a full sized guy and for me, a light went off in my head.
Nathan says:
please explane this archtype buisness
Curvy-wench is watching Grey's on DVD says:
He's relevant because he's the other half of the Warrior. In a small way I didn't even realize was missing, it's now complete.
The Warrior is an Archetype, the the Virgin/Maiden, Mother and Crone.
An archetype is a figure that exists in many myths/cultures/religions
Nathan says:
I know the deffinition, just how it applies here....like I'm familiar with the wiccan trifecta, but how does warrior fit?
Curvy-wench is watching Grey's on DVD says:
The Warrior exists outside of the trifecta and it's not Wiccan. It applies here because while the Warrior archetype is an archetype, it's also very personal to me.
Nathan says:
of course, with your clan
tribe...sorry, stumbling over terminology
Curvy-wench is watching Grey's on DVD says:
Yes, and also because I've always held Artemis in high regard. No, clan was right. I don't have a tribe.
Nathan says:
the mightiest of warriors, a spear in one hand, a book in the other
half full of your words, from what you've seen
Curvy-wench is watching Grey's on DVD says:
I think you might be thinking of Athena, though she is very kick ass too.
Nathan says:
don't know words just filtered thru me
Had to write them somewhere
figured here is appropriate
Curvy-wench is watching Grey's on DVD says:
*nod* Artemis could hunt with a spear or bow. She was another daughter of Zeus and sister to Apollo. Here is definitely appropriate.
Nathan says:
it came with a strong image of you
could be something beyond, could be madness, could be both
Curvy-wench is watching Grey's on DVD says:
I prefer a spear sometimes, in D&D.
And you know I love books.
Nathan says:
the book is half full, words you wrote, of what you learned. It';s a work in progress
the other half is what you will learn
I think you're supposed to write it, she-wo-spans-many-cultures
or I'm rambling madly
Curvy-wench is watching Grey's on DVD says:
That's important. What you just said? It rang a 'bell' in my head. Keep going.
Nathan says:
the rest is beyond words
It's pure understanding, the part of how I think that makes communication hard
I'll try to translate
You walk the world
Curvy-wench is watching Grey's on DVD says:
Alright. I'll be saving this convo.
Nathan says:
here, thru this resource, the net
it's a road/tunnel/pathway
bridge?
(a guide for travel)
by foot seems important for some reason
barefoot anklets with beads and feathers
you see distant lands
thru words
they talk to you
sourses
cultures
voices
words
words are fluid
Curvy-wench is watching Grey's on DVD says:
*nodnod*
Nathan says:
same words mean diffrent things
warrior/warrior/warrior
very diffrent
use thier words thru you
make your words
pages/ink/book
write
write a map
globe
global
GAH
Curvy-wench is watching Grey's on DVD says:
That's awesome.
Nathan says:
this is hard to do
it's here just not in words
the visual is surreal
there is a globe in a book
Curvy-wench is watching Grey's on DVD says:
*nod* I hate that, it can be very very hard to describe.
Nathan says:
not a drawing but a globe in the pages
you are writing it, not drawing it
quill pen
having trouble focusing on the feather
feel like it's important
Curvy-wench is watching Grey's on DVD says:
Feathers are a symbol for me, of being on the right track and it ties to my Pagan name
Nathan says:
red bead, blue bead
Curvy-wench is watching Grey's on DVD says:
What colour is the quill pen?
Nathan says:
feather is black or grey or dull white
you are in a pine forest
you are wearing hide
deer
a buck
antlers
spear looks like a pool stick
could be me trying to make sense
Curvy-wench is watching Grey's on DVD says:
It's interesting your getting a vision of me as both man/woman.
Nathan says:
trying to read the book name
Curvy-wench is watching Grey's on DVD says:
Don't do that.
Leave the title alone.
Nathan says:
E.....something
one word
Curvy-wench is watching Grey's on DVD says:
It's very very rare we're given actual words.
Nathan says:
words are fluid
...it's lifting
smoke from the fire...pine branches clouding everything up
intended to obscure me
Curvy-wench is watching Grey's on DVD says:
*nod* You're not supposed to read the title.
Nathan says:
I've seen enough maybe?
Curvy-wench is watching Grey's on DVD says:
Exactly.
You said trying to read the book name and someone said in my ear "don't let him read the book".
Nathan says:
it's done now I think
Curvy-wench is watching Grey's on DVD says:
*nod* Can I post this in my blogger to mull it over later?
Nathan says:
si
there's an important note
Curvy-wench is watching Grey's on DVD says:
Ok.
Nathan says:
something that it seems critical I must make sure you know
Teach you it's depth?
Words are fluid
so much so they are meaningless
But meaningfull
We...at our core...all think like me, I belive
in ideas, understandings, consepts
formless
Curvy-wench is watching Grey's on DVD says:
I hit something the other day; words are just symbols, just ways to make sense of images.
TREE doesnt' look or sound anything like a real tree but it's our word for it.
Nathan says:
words are as pouring water into a bucket
forcing it to take the buckets form
Curvy-wench is watching Grey's on DVD says:
*nod*
Nathan says:
than using that to deliver the water
Curvy-wench is watching Grey's on DVD says:
We lose something by defining and naming it, by writing it down.
Nathan says:
but, it's the best we've got
Curvy-wench is watching Grey's on DVD says:
It is.
Nathan says:
be careful with words
you must try to take all words from the speakers viewpoint
do not mix them with your own
Curvy-wench is watching Grey's on DVD says:
That's very very hard.
Nathan says:
it's a trial...the road
the path
global...yes
a long path
I think I get it
you have a chalenge/trial ahead of you
gathering words
putting them together
Curvy-wench is watching Grey's on DVD says:
Writing a book?
Nathan says:
many viewpoints
I think so
gathering the viewpoints, experiences of many.


I then speculated that I should write a book or something about the Warrior archetype across cultures and time, past and present Warriors; who are going to be the Warriors of tomorrow. Retell the myths, give them new light and life, etc etc. Sounds like a gnomish life quest.

Ebisu

Perhaps it's only a hold-over from my previous Pagan leanings with the male/female dichotomy, but was I ever excited this morning to find the male half of my female Artemisian Warrior archetype. His name is Ebisu and he's a fat, deaf and generally jolly Japanese figure who is one of the 7 Lucky Gods and the protector of children's health (among other things). October 20th is his holy day, as the other gods are all away at a gathering but being deaf, he doesn't hear the summons and is therefore available for worship. I think it's nifty, very nifty, that my warrior is female, my nurturer is male. At least my dichotomy isn't filled with traditional gender stereotypes. More later.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ebisu_%28mythology%29

Fall Harvest today

To get away from the endless homework this weekend I took a few hours this afternoon at the U and hung out at some workshops and interesting things offered by the Anishnabe Students Association. I got to listen to an elder talk for a while about various teachings and had the chance to ask about Gabe's Eagle feather. A friend gave it to me a couple of years ago to hold on to for him until he gets big enough to take care of it himself.

The Elder told me that the Eagle feather is sacred because when the Creator wants to look in on us, It does so in that form, or sends the Eagle in Its' stead. The Eagle has the widest vision and can look over a lot of creation that way, or zoom in with its' excellent sight. Sometimes we can feel like we're soaring like an Eagle, when we get a little bit of knowledge. Then we are humbled by how little we know, or some circumstance, and become like the Mouse and are small and afraid. Hopefully a teacher will come along, someone to guide us on the true path to widsom, one of our hoofed brothers or sisters, and then we'll live and grow. Eventually we'll get close to the Northern lands, the place of the white Wolf and white Bear, and to prove it we get white in our hair. Mine have already started to show, though I pluck them. I think I'll stop that. The Elder said that each feather comes at the right time and has a special meaning, and that whenever it's used it calls the spirit of the Eagle to come be with us. It doesnt' matter how many feathers you have, only that you honour and take care of each of them. Warriors used to get feathers for shows of bravery or acts in battle, but in a modern context, an Eagle feather could be awarded to someone who's won their battle with drugs and/or alcohol. I think I should have one for kicking the crap out of my post partum depression and abortion issues. ;)

Anyway, so that's what I learned today. I'm now full of sun and food and headachy. Time for bed.

Happy Equinox?

Already? Where has the time gone? I've been so wrapped up in my homework, reading and classes that I barely noticed that the equinox is creeping up. I wonder if the crew back home is planning anything for it. Probably not this weekend; Amanda has a big conference and has started school again. She's been way too busy to think about equinox stuff. Wow. The slide into the dark is happening so quickly; last week I was able to sit out in the sun till after four; today by 3:30 the porch was shaded and I came in. The 22nd at 9:19pm is officially the time for it, so I'll have to set aside a few minutes that night to reflect.

I still need to do a smudge of the apt here and set some cedar above the door. I think there are echoes here of the tenants before me; he's been renting the space out for 15 years, that's a lot of time for energy to accumulate. Anyway, back to homework.

A Warrior's Prayer

Blessed Artemis, Goddess of the Hunt and Innocence,
I pray you take under your silver mantle the hearts and bodies of the little ones
who have no family.
The wee ones with no mother or father, lost to violence or diease
or negligence.
Protect them, oh Eye of the Night! Keep them safe as they cannot for themselves.
Harbour them in the shelter of your sight, the strength of your bow,
the power of your heart. Protect them as a mother bear protects her cubs,
with love and ferocity.
Keep them, O Sacred one, keep them safe and in your soul.
Guide them to peaceful rest where they may forget for a time the horrors they have seen,
the bodies, the blood, the fires and famine, forget their empty bellies and their lonely arms.
Give them what their families cannot, Great One, do what we cannot, or will not.
Fill their bodies with strength to fight or flee as a hare might
Fill their minds with clarity and good thoughts
Fill their hearts with love to block the poison neglect and violence make, so there is no room for aught but love.
Keep them, keep them safe for us, those who cannot help. Only your grace is immense enough to reach so far and so widely.
By your grace are they saved.

http://www.latimes.com/news/local/la-me-uci-shooting15-2009sep15,0,5698283.story

"A graduate student involved in a custody dispute shot and killed his ex-wife Sunday evening just outside a student and family housing complex, police said Monday.

Brian Benedict, 35, was arrested on suspicion of killing Rebecca Benedict, 30. The couple's 4-year-old son was nearby when the shooting occurred, police said. It was the first homicide in campus history, officials said."

What did he see, that little boy? Will his last memory of his mother forever be of her bathed in blood, gasping on the sidewalk? The smell of gunpowder and the roar of its' release loud in his ears? Will four short years, and gods, they are so short, of good memories be enough to overcome one moment of senseless cataclysm? Time will blunt the sharp and jagged edges of his memory but what he saw, what he witnessed, will stay with him forever. Whenever he wakes in the night wanting his mum, she wont be there.

Meeting the Spirit of a Place

Thunder Bay. The name evokes power, presence, something that cannot be ignored. Thunder Bay. Harsh. Distant. Remote. The land here is well loved and the city leaps out of the wilderness on the shore of Lake Superior like a hare bolting from a blueberry bush. No sugar maples here but a close cousin, the Manitoba Maple, is. Pavement here lays reluctantly over the soil, I can feel it through my shoes, through my socks, into my bare soul. Humanity's hand has a tenuous grip. Jack pine and poplar lean in close, aching to retake the asphalt and concrete. Bears roam the university's land, not the U's land, the bear's land. The bear walks HIS land and wonders when he'll be able to fish in the lake again. A sleeping giant watches over everything, visible from the peak of the terraces down to the shore. First Man, Wayna Boozhoo sleeps in Thunder Bay. In the deep fall the name will make itself known in the crash of viscious waves on the shore as Superior gets ready for a long nap, rolling over and over again. Far to the South East the lake funnels into another, smaller lake and is tamed. Again and again it does so until it reaches the Atlantic through the broad mouth of the St. Lawrence, surrounded by industry and cities and sprawl. Not here not now and hopefully never will that happen. The True North strong and free shows its' face here. May it never be blemished by sprawl or an excess of pavement.

Definition of a Warrior

A friend asked me yesterday who in history I'd consider a Warrior; Boudicca and MLK jr. came to mind pretty quick. A warrior is someone who defends and protects, someone who puts the community and its' needs above their own. A warrior is someone who, though they may have a family of their own, puts the community and their family on the same level of commitment and dedication, instead of family above community. On the bus on the way to work here I realized how teaching and wanting to practise as a doula fit in with the Warrior I'm slowly uncovering and trying to be; my inner Warrior looks to protect the health, wellbeing and rights of women and children. She is a Warrior with a specific focus, to protect those who are marginalized and disadvantaged by their sex and their age, and especially who cannot defend themselves.

Teaching puts me in a place to do that, though my students may see me as a tool of their opression. I'm not entirely interested in simply teaching my students how to write essays or figure out the area of a square; I want to teach them to be self-confident and know their own Self, to be true to that person, when they figure out who that person is. I want to work to make sure the kids in my class remember me fondly for helping them grow as people, not just pass tests.

When it comes to the doula practise, this is also protective; as a labouring mother's advocate and helper I can help her have the labour and delivery she wants, not one forced on her by doctors and nurses who want to see her labour go by quickly so they can free up a bed. Hopefully by becoming a doula and doing what they do, I can make a woman's labour and delivery more enjoyable, more of an empowering experience, more of a sacred experience, than simply a hospital procedure. Having a doula and/or midwife present also protects the unborn because it helps to reduce instances of c-sections and other usually unecessary interventions.

I suppose reading about Artemis has influenced my psyche more than I realized; more than anything do I want to follow in her wild and graceful footsteps.

Princess KickAss~Warrior Musings

The other day, while getting ready for a friend's wedding, Gabe called me "Princess" while I was getting all fancied up. I later told a different friend that I was secretly thrilled about it, and of course he asked, why secretly?
I thought about it for a moment before replying that the princess archetype has always been one of helplessness, impossible beauty, grace and kindness. I like some of the individual Disney princesses, but I hate what they've done with them as merchandise. My friend pointed out that not all princesses are like that, that there have been a few who have kicked some serious ass, like Fiona from Shrek, Kida from Atlantis and in real history, Boudicca. He then dubbed me Princess Kickass, and I kinda like it. ^__^

Reminding myself of history's warriors, both male and female, might be a good place to start, and surrounding myself with thier stories and images wouldn't be a bad place to go either. But what counts as a Warrior? I try to remember what I read in Amanda's journal but I can't quite; someone who puts the needs and safety of their community above their own self and needs, even above that of their own family. I'll have to go back and look it up, maybe post the comment here for future reference.

Continuing a theme

I've missed out on some "I'm grateful for"s so here goes:
The sunny hot weather we've been having
the rain
balloons
sleep
coffee
kites
and
cats

Also, a friend has dubbed me and my Warrior self Princes KickAss, which I rather like. :)

The Book of Night with Moon

Back when I was in highschool I discovered this little gem of a book by Diane Duane. Written from a cat's perspective it's witty and captivating. Within the books pages I found several passages that really resonate with me and have since I first read them. My first inkling of the Warrior is in there, a side of myself, a face, that I'm seeking to reveal. The concept of All-In and the Warrior go hand in hand, but I'm still figuring out how to join them together. I don't think being a teacher is going to be it, but it's a step in the right direction.

From page 12: The Meditation
"I will meet the cruel and the cowardly today, liars and the envious, the uncaring and unknowing: they will be all around. But their numbers and their carelessness do not mean I have to be like them. For my own part, I know my job; my comission comes from Those Who Are. My paw raised is Their paw on the neck of the Serpent, now and always."

From pg 52:
"In Life's name, and for Life's sake, I assert that I will employ the Art that is Its gift in Life's service alone. I will guard growth and ease pain. I will fight to preserve what grows and lives in its own way: nor will I change any creature unless its growth and life, or that of the system of which it is a part, are threatened. To these ends, in the practise of my Art, I will ever put aside fear for courage, and death for life, when it is fit to do so-looking always toward the Heart of Time, where all our sundered times are one, and all our myriad worlds lie whole, in That from Which they proceeded."

From 242:
"Why bother?" Arhu burst out. "It wont make a difference! It wont stop the way things are!"
"It will," Rhiow said. "Someday...though noone knows when. This IS the Fight, the battle under the Tree. Don't you see that? The Old Tom fought it once, and died fighting, and came back with the Queen's help and won it after he'd already lost. ALL these fights are the Fight. Stand back, do nothing, and you ARE the Old Serpent. And it's easy to do that here." She looked around at the place full of hurrying people, most of them studiously ignoring each other. "Here especially. Humans kill each other in the street every day for money, or food, or just for fun...The habit of doing nothing or of cruelty, believing the worst about ourselves, gets hard to break. You meet People like that every day. It's in the Meditation: ask the Whisperer. But you don't have to be the way THEY are. [...]"

Grateful for generosity

The thought just came to me, as I was playing with Gabe and some toys, that I am very grateful for all the help that the hubby and I have recieved over the past few years from family; if it wasn't for his parents we wouldn't have this beautiful house. If my mom hadn't come by nearly every day for the first six weeks of Gabe's life I'm not sure I would've made it. If my Aunt C hadn't given us soooo much baby stuff (crib/bed, clothes, dresser) we wouldn't have had it and would have had to use our very limited funds to buy it. Gabe is STILL wearing clothes that Aunt C gave us years ago that her boys have grown out of. Our change table and some other great toys came from our friends. Gabe's toybox/coffee table was a gift from DH's mom and dad. So is the kitchen table. My home is filled with things that people have given us freely and for that I will always be grateful.

Grateful for RPGs

I am grateful for D&D, Paizo's Pathfinder and online text-based RPGs that allow me to avoid reality while still interacting with my friends.

Grateful for my country

I'm grateful I live in Canada where school shootings and other seemingly random violence is rare(er) than many many other places in the world, where the LGBTQ community is free to marry whomever they choose, where healthcare is either free or downright cheap and where there is so much natural beauty and power.

Oh Canada!
Our home and native land
true patriot love, with all thy son's command
with glowing hearts we see thee rise
the True North strong and free!
Far and wide Oh Canada we stand on guard for thee

God keep our land glorious and free
Oh Canada we stand on guard for thee
Oh Canada we stand on guard for thee!

I am grateful...

Today I want to make mention of someone who's been instrumental the past couple of years to my physical and mental/emotional health and wellbeing; my doula Katie. I will be eternally grateful to her for her patience and understanding, her gentleness and her strength during my loooooong and difficult labour with Gabe and for her support during my PPD afterwards. We kept in touch and last summer when I was battling with myself over my abortion and hating my body SO MUCH for getting pregnant, her bellydance class allowed me to find a way to accept my body again, to treat it kindly, to nourish and strengthen it. Again, Katie's patience and understanding were instrumental to my continuing clumsy attempts to find grace in something I felt was broken. I didn't feel guilty or dirty or broken when I danced; I felt graceful and beautiful, even sensual. If Katie hadn't been the instructor I don't think I would have gone and I don't want to think about where I'd be today without her.

The Gratitude Project

At ChildWild the blogger there is participating in the Gratitude Project, (http://childwild.com/2009/08/02/gratitude-project/), the plan is to write something she's grateful for between First Harvest and the Fall Equinox. It sounds like a nice idea and she encouraged her readers to play along so I shall. Focusing on the positive is going to be important over the next six weeks as I move to Tbay and get started on teacher's college.

Ok, so something I'm grateful for, day 1: I'm grateful for the wind because yesterday it let Gabe and I go out and fly a kite together for the very first time, and he even flew it a few times all by himself. He was amazed and laughed, pointed and shrieked the whole time, and had a good time just running around the big empty school yard fields while I had my turns.

My Hundred Acre Wood

A child lives in continual contact with the world of spirit. Somewhere around nine years old, the child comes fully into his body, as if entering the real world after a nine-year dream. This transition is painful; the child feels an acute loss that he cannot articulate, much less explain. (Re-read the last chapter of The House at Pooh Corner if you haven't in a while: Christopher Robin is losing the imaginative world that he has built up so carefully, and he knows it. Once it was pointed out to me, I could see my own children losing their own Hundred-Acre Woods. In fact, I could remember losing mine.)

I read this while persuing an article on the Waldorf method of schooling (http://www4.ncsu.edu/unity/lockers/users/f/felder/public/kenny/essays/waldorf.html) and it brought tears to my eyes. Sometimes this happens; I read something that strikes a chord I didn't even realize that was out of harmony and boom--tears. With all my heart I wish my parents had tried harder to bring me into a spiritual frame of mind, given me *some kind* of guidance in those thoughts and feelings instead of letting me do it completely and utterly on my own and wander lost in the desert of spiritual emptyness until I was 16. All I knew of faith was what I picked up from tv or movies, my little kid bible with the REALLY scary picture of the devil in it, and some friends. My older sister was baptized but I've always gloated that I wasn't. Neither of us recieved any kind of spiritual instruction but as far as I know it's only ever bugged me.

Discovering Paganism by accident while in a computer class in highschool was the first big step. Later on I was a part of a circle, then a one-on-one with a mentor/teacher, then alone, now apart of a group again. It's more focused on community than actual spirituality but we're working on that, trying to create our own Canadian tradition. It's a work in progress. I'm a work in progress. The very latest step has been the adoption by and of the Anishnabe.

I think each of those steps needs it's own post. For now I'm out of time as the small man is potty training and being very demanding.

Four faces

I mentioned at the end of my last post the masks the Creator wears to show Itself to us; the mask I see most often is that of Artemis, Goddess of the Hunt/Wild Places. She wears a lot of other hats too, depending on the historical period and where the stories come from; add childbirth/fertility and virginity to that as well. A friend and I have talked of rejecting the dichotomy of Male/Female, Agressive/Passive when it comes to Paganism because it's such a narrow definition of relationships. It privledges heterosexual monogomous relationships above all others, just like the rest of the world, when honestly, we both feel that all relationships are equal as long as there's respect and caring on both sides.

In my effort to further distance myself from that dichotomy my brain came up with the following during my morning shower.

Artemis as Maiden: As a forever virgin, Artemis empowers those who would stand alone and strive for excellence on their own terms, outside of a sexual relationship. Artemis had friends (Orion is one of the more better known ones), a mostly good relationship with her brother Apollo, and of course her servants, the nymphs and dryads of the forest, but no lovers. She demanded of her father to never be forced to marry and he allowed it, having foolishly said "I will give you whatever you want" in front of the other gods.

Mother: In her creation story, Artemis is born of Leto on an island while her mother is in hiding from Hera. Artemis then assists Leto with the delivery of her own brother, Apollo. While she never has children of her own she is seen in early art as having multiple breasts, capable of suckling all life.

Warrior: Artemis is known in many of her stories for killing those who have angered her or for vengence and some people did sacrifice to her before a new military campaign. Artemis rarely showed fear, usually only when facing Hera, and always did what she thought was right, acting by her own code of ethics. She was a tireless defender of the wild and its' creatures, a warrior for those that couldnt' defend themselves.

As a forever-Maiden, unfortunately Artemis has no way of representing the Crone, except in her death-dealing ways, and her later associations with the moon and its' phases. She sometimes is associated with Hecate and her death/Crone aspects but those are borrowed or put upon her.

That's it for now. Showers just seem to be a good place for me to think.

Reiki thoughts

1) Do I ever need to find a way to do this comfortably. Right now I'm practising on the hubby, who either lays on the floor or the couch. The floor forces me to squish myself in half so I can use him to support my weight; this causes me to feel like I'm trying to force energy through a bent straw. It doesn't work too well, though I do feel it doing *something*. It also kills my lower back to stretch over him to reach (he's got broad shoulders) or up to his knees (he's tall).

2) Music; I have a cd of ocean waves goodness but to me, it's boring. It's not empowering, invigorating or anything. It's just waves on a beach. Peaceful is good but I put together an hour of Reiki music on my itunes tonight that worked better; Alanis Morisette's "Utopia" and Emerald Rose's "World's Wedding" were both VERY good tunes. They speak to my inner pacifist and my Pagan self, respectively.

If this were my lj I'd do a cut and put up some lyrics. Let's try embedding a video. Oops, it's got to be one of my own to upload.



Let's hope that works out. Emerald Rose's "World's Wedding" isnt' up on Youtube, unfortunately.

3) My brain, while performing/chanelling Reiki, is continually thinking of how to do things 'professionally', what a room I'd want to practise in would look like, what I'd like to have there for decorations, lighting, scents, blankets, even something for me to sit on! A blend of Pagan and Anishnabe for sure.

4) I definitely am not doing things like I was taught. When I begin I have my own 'opening' of breathing excersizes, my own visualization to stay focused on what I'm doing and when I'm 'told' to move my hands I move them; not always to the next position, but to try and open/move/smooth/change whatever it is I'm feeling and make it beter. When listening to my intuition I'm a better healer; the hubby's shoulders and feet no longer hurt and tonight I spent a LOT of time on his heart chakra. It needed to be opened, healed, but mostly just OPENED. I felt like I was trying to crack open his ribs with my bare hands, smoothing and opening over and over until I could feel a change. Waited a minute more, then moved on.

A few years ago I wouldn't have been confident enough to do Reiki, to trust myself to listen and do what needs doing. I was going through an atheistic phase as well, convinced that there just *couldn't* be a god, nothing we could touch, anyway. Nothing we could understand, nothing that would listen. That's changed and I think it's for the better. I believe in a Being, a Something that put things in motion. It shows Itself to people in whatever way they can best understand and accept It, whether as Allah, God, the Creator, Isis or Kwan Yin. It's all the same power behind the mask.

"I believe God hears all prayers...even if the answer is sometimes 'No'."~President of the USA a movie that currently escapes my memory.

Reiki and a new teacher

A couple of weeks ago while reading tarot at Alison's a woman came in and asked me to read her cards. I did and she was very pleased with how it went, and we chatted for a while during and after the reading about life, spirituality and all sorts of things. Turns out she's a Reiki master (among other things) and was going to do a lvl 1 workshop very shortly. I've wanted to get mine for a while now so I jumped at the oppertunity to do so with her and did just this past Sunday and yesterday. The way she taught was slightly sporadic and disorganized but we learned all the basic positions and information about Reiki's history by the end of the day. The actual attunement was yesterday. Both times I was able to feel when energy was in use around me, and in me, and it was a good feeling, one I rarely get during rituals where we try to raise any. This is a good time of the month for me, energy wise, so I'm not surprised Joy remarked that I'm very 'sensitive' and seems like I'm a natural.

Joy isn't like anyone I've ever met; she's deeply spiritual, almost too much so, but she's strong. She reminds me of the Dalai Lama; living her faith but working with it to make the world a better place. Some of her ideas about things are too peace & love, even for me, but I'm willing to put aside my cynicism and just listen. We had a long talk before and after my attunement yesterday and we share similar feelings and thoughts about the Divine and spirituality. I told her that I recognize she's the newest teacher in my life and that I welcome what she has to share. Oddly enough, despite how close Amanda and I are, our views on deity and the divine in the world are vastly different, and in her husband's case, hostile to my own. It will be nice to have someone to talk too who's ideas are more close to my own, that I wont feel like I have to defend what I say against science. There are things in this world that science hasn't yet developed enough to touch, let alone detect.

So I have my reiki lvl 1 now and Ryan's itching for me to use him as a guina pig. ^^ I shall as soon as I have the time and/or energy! I've been fairly tired lately but a couple of nights of not enough sleep combined with a very busy (but awesome) birthday weekend has wiped me out.

Playing For Change: Peace through Music!

Click the link to check out what Playing for Change is up too! I enjoy PfC and what they stand for; non-violent action through music to promote peace and harmony around the world. What could be cooler than that?

All Life is Sacred~Attitude problems

Jan 24th 2009

Ok, so I'm in the shower, lather, rinse, repeat and suddenly my mind has wandered into my Anish classes and the phrase "All life is sacred." Simple concept, no? Seems easy enough to follow--if all life is sacred, it's worthy of respect and will be treated as holy. Most people have an idea somewhere in their head that life is valuable (that's a loaded word if I ever saw one), that it has meaning, that life itself is worth something. (Again, what's with all the money terminology?) BUT, imagine for a moment, if you will, a world where everyone is taught from the cradle that ALL life is sacred, and then they practise that throughout their life. They don't just mouth it as an idle platitude, they live it, everyday.
--No more child abuse or molestation, abandonment or neglect
--No more abortion. There would be no need. If all life was sacred but you didn't want the child (dissonance there, I know), then you could give it up safely for adoption because someone would take care of it and do a good job.
--No more rape. If every man and woman looked at each other as a sacred part of life, there would never be another rape.
--Apathy would disappear
--Animal abuse, neglect and abandoment would disappear too. ALL life is sacred, not just the walking, talking two-legged kind. Sure, we still need to eat so raising and killing animals for food would still occur but it would be in a much more humane way.
--Environmental damage would be repaired and prevented from continuing. If ALL life was sacred, noone would look at 300 acres of rainforest and see 300 million dollars. Instead, they would see a rainforest and all the life therein and it would be sacred, protected by the virtue of simply being alive.

Need I go on? (Mind you, I realize there will still be sick people out there, real psychos and the like, who operate with different brains than the rest of us. They would have to be humanely separated somehow. Also, accidents would still happen but it wouldn't be because of apathy or neglect.)

Ryan points out the flaw in my brilliant "I can fix the world with just a simple phrase" idea; there are nearly 7 billion people living on earth, some of whom have hated each other for hundreds, if not thousands, of years. A lot of them (the Western World) are heavily involved in busineses that keep the other 3/4 of the world in a state of poverty and neglect for it's own comfort. (Remember www.thestoryofstuff.com ?) Noone fights against thier own comfort, and getting 7 billion people to agree on ANYTHING is a serious task. But isn't it worth attempting? Utopia, a perfect harmonious world, may be impossible to achieve but isnt' it worth working towards, to get as close as we can? If even half the people on this planet who don't follow this concept started too there would be major change and fast. There are those who do but since they're not a part of the industrialized business end of things (think indigenous and tribal peoples around the globe and most likely a large majority of family farmers) they dont' count apparently. The almighty dollar holds sway instead of this simple concept which is so wrong I just don't have the words.

Imagine if "All life is sacred" was held as the first and most high idea in all cultures and societies, above every law, religion and science. What would that world look like? I imagine there would be a lot of rainbows and unicorn-farts. ;)

February 18th 2009

"That's just the way it is." Man do I hate that attitude. If people always settled for the way things are the civil rights movement in the States would never have happened. The Red School House would never have been built. The feminist movement would also have never happened, along with other important, positive changes. It's by saying THIS ISN'T GOOD ENOUGH and I'M NOT GOING TO TAKE IT ANYMORE that the world is changed for the better.

On the way home from ceremonies I got into a heated debate with Tausha and Dallas about my ideas; the system the world runs on is fundamentally broken and all that entails. I have no problem with wanting to work and work hard to get what you want in life but having to work your ass off JUST to get by, at the expense of your happiness, family time, and even your health (in some cases) is wrong. The fact that parents both have to work 40 hour a week jobs and put their kids in daycare at like, age 1 (sometimes younger), is wrong. Someone else shouldnt' be raising your child, YOU should be. I'm not against socializing kids. I understand that social interaction is important, no, fundamental to early child development. HOWEVER, being seperated from their parents for hours and hours a day for days at a time cannot be good for them.

Being so dependant on that system for everything we have and need is not a good idea because someday that system will shut down. Hello global food shortages this past summer? Hello lack of oil post-Katrina? Remember that, world? When the lights went out on the eastern seaboard one August a few years ago a lot of people were lost without power. They had no clue how to take care of themselves without it. During the huge ice storm that also hit the northern east coast a few years back people actually DIED because of the lack of power and therefore heat. We don't know how to take care of ourselves OR how to reach out and help others and that's a damn shame.

When I tried to explain this to Dallas and Taush I think I hit a nerve; they both became very defensive. They asked me "What are you going to do about it, Jen? Why waste your energy stressing about how broken the world is? Just try to get through it and provide for your family."

What am I going to do about it? That's a very good question. I try to think back to what others before me have done. Rosa Parks refused to move when the busdriver told her to move to the back of the bus where the other coloured people were. 40 years later we have a black man as President in the States. A single mom with two little girls she was tired of seeing get beaten up everyday at school went to Eddie and said "Do something because I wont have this happen to my girls anymore." And he did. The Red School House was created and has graduated many many American Anishnabe since. Women went to work during WW2, liked it, and refused to leave when their men came home. We're still working to make things equal between the sexes across the board but so much ground has been gained in the past hundred years and some it's astonishing.

Never underestimate the power of a small group of individuals determined to change the world. It's the only thing that ever has. I have to believe that. I have to believe that there are other people out there like me, with similar feelings and ideas, who want to change the world into something better than it is, where moms and dads can raise their kids without worrying where their next paycheque will come from because there wont BE any paycheques, where everyone knows how to grow food and conserves water, where the planet isn't being continuously poisoned and degraded by our every move. It's a lot to ask for but right now, it's babysteps. As long as someone gets the ball rolling it wont stop until all the changes have been made.

What am I going to do about it? I'm going to try and live my life in a way that I think best reflects what I believe and not get sucked wholly into that system, to remain aware of what it is, how it works and what it does. I will fight against it always, raise awareness of it where and when I can and choose my allies with care. Unless I magically become the Prime Minister someday, that's about all I can do; work at a grassroots level and hope it spreads like wildfire from there.

Ceremonies (all relevant posts)

February 17th 2009

Last night mom and I were emailing each other about their trip to Mexico and I asked her to drop in and visit sometime soon and when she does to bring with her info on her family tree so I can figure out if we have any Anishnabe ancestors or not. She writes me back saying "Oh yeah, I have a great grandmother who was Cree and Sioux who lived near Alberta." *facepalm* Now I really want to look at her notes and see if she has a picture or something of this woman. She's probably the one who helped Eddie find my spirit name.

Feb 15th 2009

Let's try this again. The 6 hour drive to get down to Bad River took 9, thanks to getting a little lost, a dinner stop and a couple of bathroom breaks. That's ok though, I got to know the people I drove down with a lot better. :) I went down with Tausha and her 2 year old boy Kason, Dallas, Falcon and J.P in a red minivan. T'was good times, though I did earn a nickname: Book Woman. ^__^ We got in sooo late, however, that we decided to just pick up things people needed from the world's biggest Walmart and then go swimming and hottubbing at the hotel. J.P and Falcon can really cannonball.

The first half of the first day was pretty uneventful with a lot of watching and listening to other people's ceremonies. The lodge is all about healing, and is very much unlike a pow wow because it's Serious Business in the lodge. Mostly. The lodge itself is inside a building, a skeletal frame of poles held together with twine and the sacred fire in the center. The east door is open but the west door is shut against all entry as it leads to the spirit world. The sacred fire is tended at all times by the (male only) Fire Keepers and the doors by Door Keepers. Falcon and another classmate Perry would have fun the next night playing doorkeeper against a small herd of buffalo dancers. ^^

Just before the feast the first night we were asked if anyone wanted to go to the sweat and I raised my hand; that afternoon Eddie's family had done a powerful grief healing for the loss of his granddaughter, Audra, who had died at just about a year old earlier this year. I cried all the way through it, thinking about the daughter I had willingly given up. A sweat seemed like the perfect solution to that fear, pain and grief I'd been carrying around for a year and a day. (Feb 12th 2008 last year, the day my neice was born, was the day I found out I was pregnant and when the whole thing started. The sweat was Friday, Feb 13th 2009. Funny how things work out sometimes. Anyway, after supper and borrowing the things I would need from fellow students, it was into the sweat lodge. 14 people, including myself, two classmates and the leader of the sweat, all crammed into this low, turtle-shell like structure with a frozen dirt floor and a pit in the middle. Outside a fire that burned mostly blue was roaring, preparing the mishomis and nokomis for us, the stones who are our grandmothers and grandfathers, to help heal us.

Despite the strangers and strange surroundings, or maybe because of them, I was finally able to let it all go. In the utter blackness of the lodge, with the little boy water drum pounding into my bones and heart and the singing and release of the others, a sound that was more moan than wail rose up from somewhere deep inside me where it's been kept since Gabe's labour and I used it to give my fear and grief to the stones. I had asked them to help me heal through grieving and they did; that voice shook me with it's power, it's low, throaty sound and I was almost afraid of it. In that moment I overcame my fear. I wont be afraid anymore, not of myself or feelings, my power as a person, and definitely not as a woman In the western door, though I couldn't see my hand infront of my face, I kept seeing my almost-daughter; long blonde hair in a pony tail, coltish thin body, all elbows and knees just waiting to go through the door and into the next world and looking at me over her shoulder with her beautiful deep blue eyes to give her permission. I gave it with everything in my heart and soul. That pain and grief is gone now and it will only come back to me if I choose to pick it up. I wont.

The three of us went back to the hotel and slept like the dead, missed sunrise ceremonies and finally wandered in at nearly noon. That was a long afternoon. I recieved my name and clan with my fellow students standing proudly behind me, a name given to me by my teacher and given to him by my grandmother from 3 generations ago. That would be my grandma P's grandma, who was a midwife. My name is Little Eagle Woman, and my clan is the Marten Clan.

It was a very proud moment and I made sure to say my thanks to Eddie, my classmates and to everyone in the lodge. They were very welcoming and I got chance soon after to become a part of the clan in a real hands on way. But first! We learned and watched about the Water Line Women and their sacred duty to the waters of the earth and helped them get their belts and sashes. Four generations of women stood in lines to recieve these things; great grandmothers, their daughters, their granddaughters and their great-granddaughters. We danced afterwards to celebrate and I joined in, Anishnabe style, which came very naturally to me. Eddie noticed I was in the lodge dancing along with everyone and said on the mic "Little Eagle dances!" and everyone cheered. I had Gabe's eagle-feather with me so it could get some of that good energy from the lodge and I kept it with me all night for dances and other things. After the water women were honoured they brought in the warrior drums and we feasted them. My clan, being the warrior clan, was incharge of that feast so I wandered over to the kitchen to help bring in the food and then served a bunch of people their dinner. By doing that we feasted not only the drums, but those who'd gotten their names today, including me. After dinner we danced and sang the warrior songs, the buffalo songs and welcomed two new girls to the Buffalo path and then finally came the jingle dress dancing.

This was a powerful healing, as the dresses were originally created for the sole purpose of healing someone through the dance and sound of the dress. They were never meant for pow-wows or competitions, but that was the only place I'd seen them before. At the first sound from the dresses I could feel the change in the energy of the room but that was all for me. The sweat lodge has certainly done it's work well and though others in the healing circle of dresses (all 47 of them) were crying or coughing or even vomiting to help eject their sickness, I was just tired. During the third song I'm ashamed to say I fell asleep sitting against the wall, even though the bench was horribly uncomfortable and I never thought I'd sleep there.

Finally we went back to the hotel and slept. We went back to the lodge briefly in the am to say goodbye to Eddie and honestly, I got choked up at the thought of leaving. I didnt' want to go; I have no idea when I'll ever be going back. It may not be for years and years but when I do I will be much better prepared. The trip back was fairly uneventful and shorter than the trip there and I couldn't wait to see Gabe and Ryan again.
So there it is! Ceremonies!

Feb 11th 2009

I'm still going to ceremonies and am going to learn all that I can. Hopefully I'll still recieve mine and Gabe's names and clans. Apparently even if you're not Anishnabe you can still have a clan. In their beliefs, everyone has clans, even the Europeans, even if they've forgotten that information. With Ry's dad being Scottish and mine English finding our clans shouldn't be hard. Badwaywedun (Eddie) has been thinking about my name since I mentioned it to him a month ago so I'm trying not to get my hopes up too high that it will be revealed at ceremonies. I wish I had more tobacco. Oh! I'm going to bring Gabe's eagle feather and get it blessed along with the others and see if I can find someone who will teach me about it.

February 7th 2009

While talking with mom just a little while ago on the phone she clarified for me that while I have Anishnabe relatives, I dont' have any direct ancestors and therefore I'm basically as white as a snowflake. Honestly, I'm crushed. I'm not ashamed to be white, though our history as a race kinda sucks in some parts, but I feel like the past little while now, my actions and words, makes me a fake. I feel like I was an adopted kid who found her real family and then someone came along and said oh, no no, my mistake, the family you have IS your real family. I can't, in good conscience, introduce myself as Ojibwe Anishnabe ikwe because it's not true, though it feels that way in my heart and gut. Genetically I'm one thing but my spirit says something else.

Someone who has become a close friend said 'as if you get your soul through your blood.' And he's right; as if. Your soul is ethereal and has little or nothing to do with the genetic dna in your body, but then again, how can we be sure? The tie between faith and science is tenuous at best, slim as spider's webs but not nearly as strong. I feel so torn. On one hand, I can continue to learn about the culture and language, the beliefs and practises of the faith and incorporate that into my life, but on the other hand, how much does not having the 'right' blood limit me?

For example, I know in Japan that no matter how much you learn the traditions and language, if you're not Japanese, you'll never BE Japanese and they'll always know and treat you differently. There's nothing you can do about that. If you're an African American but feel Japanese in your heart, there's nothing you can do to make yourself a part of that culture and traditions, no matter how hard you try, and you'd probably be looked at funny for even trying to be like the other guy.

I'm very aware of the idea of cultural appropriation of voice, not just through my English studies but also through Paganism. If you're going to learn and study the ancient Celtic ways but throw Egyptian deities into the mix, you're not respecting the culture and traditions that those beliefs center around. So much of the Anishnabe way of doing things ritually and their stories and beliefs mesh with what I feel and believe, like a fine-tuning and clarification of the initial 'home' feeling I got at my very first Samhain ritual back when I was a baby Pagan. That night I was brought home and these past months it's felt like I've finally been shown what room in that home is mine to call my very own.

I don't want to have to give up my room.

Feb 5th 2009

So Ceremonies are next week and I'm getting really excited/nervous about it. I'm not sure what's expected of me or what to do or where to go so I'm latching onto one of the more experienced women and going to play shadow for the weekend. I might get my name and totem, as well as Gabe's, so that's exciting but it's hard to be starting to walk a different Path than the one I have been for the past 8 1/2 years. I've always had respect and interest in the Anishnabe ways but now I'm doing more than just read about it, I'm actually going to go and participate. Ceremonies are held once every season so I'll have plenty of oppertunities in the future to expand on what I learn this first time. In the future, I hope to bring Gabe with me.

It will help if when I'm there I know Ry's parent's heritage as best I can (Dad's side is Scottish), as well as my own, so maybe I'll even discover what Clan I belong too, and which one is Gabe's. We'd have different clans because that's passed down through the father, so Gabe and Ryan's would be the same.

I don't know; I think it will be a weekend of deep emotions, learning and a lot of listening. I know I'll come back changed. Hopefully it's for the best.

Matron Goddess: Artemis

April 25th 2009

Once upon a time when I was but a wee fluffy baby Pagan and hardly fit to be around other folk, I rediscovered the Greek pantheon in all it's glory. During my late years in grade school I had found this book in the library at Greenwood with gorgeous full page art and stories about the gods. The entire family tree, such as could be mapped, was displayed through the front inside cover and first page. Entranced, I must have taken that book out a dozen times and I wrote my gr 7 oral presentation about the gods. While discovering Paganism and taking my first tentative steps into a whole other way of thinking during my middle years of highschool I went back to deities that were familiar. It was easier for me to wrap my mind around an entire pantheon than a dual split God/Goddess match. I've come a long way since then and my view of diety is much different but there's still one Goddess that manages to reach out to me, or me to her, when I really really need it.

Despite being married and having a child I've always felt that Artemis was the Goddess for me. She's the Goddess for strong, independent women, women in trouble or danger, women like me. Fall isn't a good time for me to be away but thankfully I'll be back by November which is usually my worst time. I think that if I also re-commit myself to my Pagan beliefs, my Goddess included, that I'll have an extra well of strength to draw on during what is going to be a difficult time. Changing my way of thinking will help me get through.

Counselling

August 19th 2008

V thinks I'm suffering partially from PST and PPD at the same time; what a nice combination (Post Tramautic Stress and Post Partum Depression).
You're allowed to cry at funerals. You're allowed to cry during sad parts in movies. You're allowed to cry at weddings. That's it. I'm too aware and allow myself to be restricted by what I'm supposedly allowed and not allowed to do and feel. I have an inkling of where that comes from (thanks mom and dad!) but that's yet another post for another day, or an edit of the Family one from not too long ago.
The more I think about it, the more I think that what would be helpful to me would be a sort of funeral, a ritual of some kind (oh geeze, getting choked up again) to help me let go and say goodbye. "The Pagan Book of Living and Dying" has some great stuff in it that I think I need. I don't think I should, or can, wait until Samhain.
Despite my vehemence in insisting that what lived in me for three months was not a person, it was a soul, who, for whatever reason, picked me. You can't be a person without a soul, and in my beliefs, the soul is the very first part that takes up residence and then the body builds around that. The soul is the spark that gets the egg and sperm together and the mystery that gets the cells growing and dividing and specializing. We know it happens, but honestly, science hasn't figured out why. That's my why. And that's why I need to say goodbye and move on.
I can choose to let go or I can choose to stay broken and sad. I can choose to quit feeling guilty for evicting that soul or not. I have one comfort that came to me this morning while I was eating toast; you can't kill a soul- in my beliefs they're eternal, so I can quit thinking that I'm a murderer and a bad person, which is a relief.
Ok, that's enough for now, I think.

More post abortion ramblings

October 3rd 2008

Had a mini-melt down last night with Ryan while watching "And Then She Found Me"; it's amazing how a simple scene with an ultrasound of a 6 week old fetus made me feel. Holy crap. I never saw mine, I refused to look both times I had ultrasounds done. I didn't want (more) visual evidence of what was growing inside of me, or of what I had chosen to destroy.

Part of the melt-down was brought on by some of the things that have been coming up in my Anish1006 class; we've been talking about the creation story of the Ojibwe and how it mirrors conception, labour and birth. Sometime shortly after conception the fetus is given their spirit name by the Creator. (I wonder if my potential baby had a name already? Supposedly it did...) It's never to late to find your own spirit name and I hope to find my own someday. Apparently my grandfather's grandmother was full blood Ojibwe. We have a picture of her at my mom's and wow.

The more I learn in that class about that culture and belief system the more I want to learn, and the more I find little bits that resonate with me. "Blood memory" is something our professor spoke about a few weeks ago and honestly I didnt' think I had any but now I'm not so sure. I don't think it matters what blood you have, the memory can still be there of things you just know. When I first discovered Paganism it was like being doused in cold water; here was an entire belief system that mirrored what I already felt and believed but had never put into words because I lacked the vocabulary to describe it. There it was at my fingertips over the internet and on the pages of books. Now, again, and I imagine and hope not for the last time, it's happening, that wonderful cold water in the face feeling.
Because of what I'm finding and reading and hearing about I'm coming more and more to believe that I made the wrong choice. Believing what I do about the spiritual process of creating a life, and adding into that now what I've learned and accept and am adopting I think I made the wrong choice. I'll never know for sure. Life is the greatest gift the Creator gives us. Life is meant to be nourished, cherished, enjoyed and honoured. Life is sacred. We, Ryan and I, were given a gift and I destroyed it. It was my choice, my body, my sanity, my life, but was it really? I'm not so sure anymore.

Being one of those people who is always going back and second guessing yourself is terrible but I think this is something that needs more thought. I can't keep avoiding movies with pregnant women (still haven't seen Juno), thinking or talking about pregnancy/labour/childbirth. I cant' undo what's been done and Ryan is ok, finally. He understands, has for a while, and has forgiven me. I needed that so I can begin to forgive myself. Amanda and I are working on a ritual/ceremony pre-Samhain so I can make some more steps forward in getting past this. I have to write a letter still as well, something my counsellor suggested and I think is a damn fine idea. If I can see the page past all the tears I'll be off to a good start.

Had an odd thought the other day; if I can't get into teacher's college maybe I'll become a midwife.

Paganism and Profound Experiences

March 19 2009:

I've been meaning to respond to this as well but thought I'd put a couple of days thought into it. ^^ (From a forum on Gaia I frequent)

Studying Paganism in general and some things specifically has led to a profound change in my life. Since I was 16 I've been reading and researching and practising with a dedicated mentor who's now an equal and a sister of my heart. I've been blessed that way and I'm forever grateful to have her guiding me and to be my friend. Through the study of Paganism's different Paths I've become a lot more open minded and also able to solidify my beliefs. Like Neko Wyndy Wytch (whom I still remember as Charity Solei! ^^) I've learned so much through practise vs. reading it's not even funny. My experiences have coloured my understanding, and built that understanding, far more than reading a book has ever done. The most profound changes have come recently thanks to, of all things, university courses in Anishnabe (that's Native American) beliefs and practises. There have been several key ideas that I've added to my own and some things that I've always just felt/known that have been given a name. I've been forced to face some huge challenges in the past year and sometimes it felt like the only thing that I could rely on was my faith. Trusting in your Self is hard to do when you dont' know who or what that is. Paganism and witchcraft, and now the Anishnabe ways, has helped me to know and to be strong when I needed to be.

When I was faced with the difficult choice between two men I loved it was, partly, my faith that held me to Ryan. I had made promises before friends and family and the Gods to be his and his only and to break a vow of that magnitude would have been a betrayal of self. Marriage is the ultimate commitment and I had made those vows to last forever. To not follow my heart and keep Dan in my life that way was also a betrayal of another belief but it was the lesser of two evils.

A year ago I was pregnant and waiting for my abortion. At the time I was not eating, depressed and scared shitless about the whole thing; being pregnant, the procedure, people finding out whom I didn't want to find out (some did, some didn't), but thankfully Amanda stepped in with the Pagan Book of Living and Dying, as did my former student. In that book were passages of comfort for grieving mothers-that-weren't and a reminder that it's a woman's sacred responsibility to decide which children are born and which are not. Our wombs are the gateway through which life passes and sometimes we have to say 'no' and keep that door shut. It took me nearly a year to completely put aside my grief and feelings of guilt over all of it and I was only able to do so when I approached my feelings in a spiritual context; first in November with Amanda through our first ceremony (thanks again to everyone who sent love and support!) and then finally in February at ceremonies in Wisconsin.

Has Paganism and witchcraft been a profound experience and changed my life? Hell yes.

Collecting posts

My old journal has spirituality related posts flung far and near so I'll be collecting those over the next little while and putting them here. I like having things all in once place. EDIT: Looking back at a few entries it's become apparent that I'll have to share a deeply personal and painful part of my life here in order for some of those posts to make sense. Ah well.

In a slightly related bit of news, yesterday we were celebrating mother's day down at my inlaw's camp and were visited by four eagles. It was a beautiful sight having the four massive birds swooping and circling overhead. I snagged a couple of pictures, one of which I'll post up here. One for sure was a male, the others might have been females. I wish I'd gotten a picture of him. After they'd gone the hubby, dad in law and I went over to a nearby field the birds had circled a few times. No feathers to be found but next time we go to camp I'm bringing a kite to fly there!

Nothing recharges my inner batteries like going to camp; being near the water, laying on the warm earth, listening to the wind in the branches and the new-born leaves is always a reawakening. Being there makes me feel more alive, more aware and more at peace than anywhere else.

Self Identity

Wendy doesnt' like my vagina bag. Or my dreamcatcher shirt. She pointed out "You're not Native" and suggested I change my shirt before we went out today. I thought about it as I washed my face and replied with "It means something to me. I choose to honour that branch of my family tree, and you forget, I've been to ceremonies and recognized by the medewin teachers as Anishnabe. I have a name and a clan and that means a lot ot me." She nodded and let it drop, thankfully. I just feel sometimes I'm trying too hard; the shirt, my medicine wheel button, feather earrings, etc. To whom am I advertising "Hey! I'm a First Nations woman!"? It might just come down to acceptance: I look so much outside myself for acceptance. Acceptance into a group/ideal/family/community is really really important for me. I want to be accepted by other Anishnabe but if I come right out and say "As far as I know at this moment I'm not *actually* Ojibway Anishnabe-ikwe" I fear I wont be, and they'll be right NOT to accept me. I can be an ally but I can never be a full member of the group. But if I dont' come to terms with things inside me first, all the acceptance from the outisde doesn't mean jack if I dont' feel it inside.

This has been said 100 times but I still feel the need to say it: I'm not 'playing Indian'. I'm trying to acknowledge and honour a part of me that very strongly identifies as First Nations, as well as my family history and ancestors. My Anishnabe heritag is murky, and where it fits into my life equally so. It's not a seamless integration but one that does need to happen. Asserting that part of myself, whether by wearing the t-shirt and earrings or by introducing myself with my spirit name and clan, is a step on the right Path for me. Going to Ceremonies in February in Wisconsin was a life-changing experience. I went in wondering how badly I was going to mess up and offend people and left with an entirely new family (my clan) and much deeper understanding and reverence for that which I'd already learned, plus a head-full of new things. As a white student I didn't think I had any right to be there but I was accepted and acknowledged, I think in part, because I acknowledge and accept that part of myself. It's a genuine interest in the language and culture, and coming at it sideways puts me at a disadvantage, but I think maybe my professor could see it, and as a medewin leader it was obvious. I have no 'right' to that knowledge, to that culture and religion, but I'm hoping if I study hard enough and try to always speak well and live a good life in that way then anyone who *thinks* I'm just 'playing Indian' will start to believe otherwise.

Obligatory "first post" post

Well, I suppose I should introduce myself first and foremost: My given name is Jennifer and I live in a smallish town in Northern Ontario, Canada. I've been a practising Pagan for nearly a decade and have had the benefit of several different types of learning; a circle, one-on-one with a mentor, and solitary. Currently I'm a founding member of a local Pagan group that's been doing open rituals for the past four years as well as Pagan Pride events (www.paganpride.org), brunch and workshops. It's been good times but we're ready to start doing something *more*, something more reflective of where we live and who we are.

A bit more about that: A branch and few twigs of my family tree is also Anishnabe, making me Ojibway Anishnabe-ikwe and a member of the Waawizeshi clan. For those who don't speak Anishabemowin, that's First Nations Ojibway and a member of the Marten clan (Ogitchida! Woo!). My spirit name is also the title of this blog, MigiziNse-ikwe, aka Little Eagle Woman. Only very recently have I become aware of all this and I struggle daily to integrate it into my life. Living where I do, and being Pagan, it only makes sense to also integrate all of this into my spritual life as well.

So the journey begins!