there was a time

i used lay on the cool green grass in summer and allow my body to connect with the earth.  i would relax and envision my body sinking into her until i was a part of her, totally connected.  sometimes i would create a circle of quartz crystals beforehand and lay in the center of them.  

i used to build crystal grids and use reiki to create an energy vortex to send healing out to an individual, a troubling situation or the environment.

at times i would place water in a jug with specific stones, then set it outside at the time of the full moon, surrounded by crystals.  as with the grids, i would activate it through reiki, prayer and intention, then use this water to make my aromatherapy blends.  one time i did this, then afterwards froze the water for later use.  when i got the water from the freezer to thaw and use, i was thrilled to see that in its frozen state a vortex had formed in the water.  it looked like a tornado had frozen in the center of the jug of water.  

i used to write spiritual poetry about mother earth, about love and goodness and choices and the human condition.

there was a time when i practiced reiki, helping others to find some comfort and relief from physical or emotional pain or stress.  i was good at it, feeling the energy of it flow through me making my hands tingly and hot, knowing intuitively where to focus the energy.  

i used to meditate daily.

then everything changed.  my husband died suddenly, i relocated and faced new challenges and as a result i lost my enthusiasm, my passion, and my connection.  this year i hope to reclaim and reawaken that connection.  

winter solstice

...Light returns, because it is the nature of Life- of what we are- to cycle through periods of darkness and light. And the gifts of the darkness, those things we bring back from difficult times that allow us to live life more fully in an open-hearted way, are easier to retrieve if we can remember that the light will return. And when that seems like no more than a nice but unlikely idea, it helps to be with others who hold this knowing faithfully in that moment.

Even now, as we explore the longest night and reach for the promise of the return of the light here in the northern hemisphere, our sisters and brothers in the southern half of this planet are celebrating the time of the longest light and the fullness it brings.

And the Wheel turns, and Life continues, and the Sacred Wholeness holds us all.

Oriah House (c) 2013

this is why i'm grateful

i remember hard times, times when there was little to nothing in the house to eat, when keeping warm was a challenge because the snow blew in around the window ledges and we couldn't afford to keep the heat up enough to stay warm.  it was during this time i was without money, a car, a tv or a phone.  i spent my days washing clothes out in the basement by hand and hanging them to dry there as well because i had no money or way to the laundromat.  

i remember a time when i couldn't sleep at night for fear when my husband came home drunk again he would start accusing me of being a whore or would hurt me physically...a time when love meant abuse. 

there we several times when i had to fend for myself and my kids and if not for selling many of my household possessions and the generosity of friends we would have gone hungry and had no place to live.

i am remembering these things tonight not to get caught up in the past with remorse, but to remind myself how very blessed i am today.  

i live in my very own home today, bought and paid for because of my own ingenuity.  i have a dependable little car, paid for.  my car is 11 years old and my home is 110 years old.  both are far from perfect but they are dependable and take care of my basic needs.  i have a washer and dryer so i no longer have to go to the laundromat or wash clothes by hand.  i crawl into a comfy bed each night as opposed to sleeping on a mattress on the floor to keep my back from hurting as i once did.  if i'm cold i can turn the heat up and there is always more than enough food in the house. 

not all of my life was hard times, but the hard times are hard to forget and the very things that makes me feel so appreciative today. i would love to be able to go back and change things for my children, but i have to seek peace knowing i did the best i could at the time and in the situation i was in.  

what i have today hardly compares to what others may have and take for granted.  there have been times i've had more but i don't believe i appreciated the things i had then as much as i what i have now.  i take none of it for granted and consider myself very fortunate and blessed.  i do not have to count on anyone to have my basic needs met.  i struggle sometimes financially, but nothing compared to years past.  i have a steady income each month and health coverage for most things and i don't have to work for it any longer.  

i have what i need and that includes love.  i have a beautiful relationship with a man who's not afraid to show his love for me.  i feel wanted and appreciated but never afraid.  he makes me feel safe and adored and that is priceless.  i have 2 beautiful, smart, kind children who make me proud to be their mom as well as 4 equally smart, kind, beautiful grandchildren and a sweet, happy great grandson who is a joy.  i take none of them for granted.  

thanks to my son i have been able to take two major vacations.  one was a week at myrtle beach, the other a trip to london, something i could never have imagined doing.  and this year i drove myself to missouri to visit a dear friend.  funny how, since i've been on my own i've managed a vacation every year.  so yeah, despite the grief and the struggles life has brought, i feel very grateful, very blessed, and very appreciative for where i am now and all that graces my life.  

 

home (for Jason)

you light the fire of hope and possibility within me.

without realizing it you call me home to myself

home to my soul's calling

home to what i was made for

home to love.

smc

Choose a man who’ll serve your soul

came across this gem...beautiful

Choose a man who’ll serve your soul.

You are awoken in a way that no longer draws an ordinary man.

Wise woman, wild woman, ancient muse of artists and poets, you crave a partner who can discern your siren call.

You’ve been the shadow that’s slipped past him on moonlit walks, when he’s been searching his heart. He’s reached out to grasp you but the time was never right.

Like a wisp of wind, you’ve eluded him on his journey toward enlightenment.

Perhaps he was not ready, perhaps you weren’t either, while you’ve been soaking your bones in mystery and reading sacred texts, he’s also been feeding his mind with poetry and prose.

Perhaps while you’ve been listening to the whispers of forest spirits and leaning against wise old trees, he’s been a step or two behind you, aching for the sound of your steps on the sodden moss.

Wild woman, spiritual seeker, choose a man who will feed your soul.

You have seen him in the cards, he’s illusive but he’s real. He’s a challenge, he’s unafraid to speak his mind. He’s a man who knows his path.

You need a man whose strength is in more than his hands. You need a man whose character makes your heart pound, your body lose control.

He’s the kind of man who will drink your essence but who won’t worship you, because he knows how real you need to be.

He’ll admire your fire, he’ll melt at your touch—he’ll enter your soul through your eyes.

He’ll understand your independence, the many times you’ll leave his side. He’ll follow if you ask him but keep his dreams his own. He’ll tie you down only when you ask it, and then, he’ll do it well.

A man who feeds your soul can feed your body as well.

He admires your solitude, he is turned on by your mind, he lives for your next breath of wisdom—wild woman—you’re everything he’s been looking for.

The books on your shelf, the incense in the air, the card splayed to tell his future, the chanting from your meditation room—all sacred food for him.

Choose a man who understands walks under the heavy, magical moon. One who will take your hand and trod through silently falling snow. One who talks to the stars and for whom the planets turn.

Choose a man whose smile will drop you to your knees.

One whose mouth burns at the back of your neck and the bottom of your spine. One whose love leaves no question about its intentions—he’s knows that you’re the one.

Choose a man who’s not afraid of his sexuality or yours. He’ll crave what you cradle in between your hips, his tongue like honey and his manhood rising to meet your lust. While you croon a love song, while you drift across his lips, he’ll bring you to an ecstasy of ocean waves crashing to the shore.

Give him everything, mystic woman. Pour him some pomegranate wine. Give him a drink of forbidden fantasies, let him know you in your darkest form.

A man who feeds your soul craves you raw. A man who feeds your soul walks with the raven as his guide. He is at home in this world and the one in between, that place where spirits gather and everything is known. Let him feed you with his magic, the words only he can speak, the deep, rich timber of his voice caressing your ears while you lie stretched naked in his arms.

He won’t run. No matter what you reveal. Even if you say that dragons or unicorns or wicked spirits visit your night-time dreams. Even if you utter words that only witches learned. Even if you tell him that once your body burned on a pyre of hatred and fear.

Choose a man who will serve your soul. Who knows that you are the universe, the sea at midnight, the plaintive sound inside a seashell and the whir of hummingbird’s wings at dawn.

He knows that you are solitude. That at times you are a destructive wind. That sometimes you are the frozen tundra and sometimes the heat of a dessert isle. Sometimes he is those things too, and why he gets you and still stays.

So lay down your defences. Put your sword in its safe place, drop that shield. He’s not going to hurt you, and if he does, it will be okay. You’ll understand each others weaknesses. Wild woman, let him in.

Choose a man who’ll serve your soul.

~ Monika Carless ~ 

this man

how can i not love this man

who holds me close

and stares into my eyes

while bringing me to orgasm?

here is a man 

who relishes my satisfaction more than his own 

because my pleasure is his satisfaction.

who could imagine this man

who, despite my age and size

finds my body beautiful

simply because i'm in it,

who worships me as his queen

and sees me as an angel,

and makes such sweet love to the parts of me i loathe?  

how this man became

so passionate, sensual and adoring of me

is a mystery to me,

but i rejoice, i rejoice, i rejoice

and become exquisite and powerful,

more authentic and whole

in the pureness, the beauty,

and the power of his love. 

in the wee hours

i am sitting here awake while most of the world around me sleeps.  i am missing my love.  not in a sad way, but in a longing way.  i know we'll be together soon, but that doesn't mean i don't crave the comfort of his presence now. i want to walk into the bedroom and see him lying there, and slide under the covers to snuggle close to him.  i want to reach my hand to him and feel his warmth and wanting, to feel his breath on my neck...soon that moment will come...soon, but not soon enough.

success

 i found this...something i wrote 9 years ago:

success should be measured in smiles, not by your career, your bank account, the house you own, or the car you drive. success is a condition of the heart and mind that comes from living simply, loving deeply and laughing often.

why i love hard

 

i have learned to never take love or those we love for granted.  i also have learned that life holds little meaning without love.  i love hard and for these very reasons.

love given and received fills a void in me that nothing else can.  i need love, to know it, to feel it and to give it.  i need intimacy, to touch and be touched, to treasure and be treasured.  there is nothing better than the deep, intimate connection that two people in love share and every day i am grateful to have this connection with another.  

 

 

i am angry

It's sat morning and I have a lot to do but I can't even begin until I give voice to my thoughts.

I am sitting at my desk looking at a photo of myself and the three women I love most in life. This, after hearing from one of them about how she was roofied last week and woke 6 hours later to bruises all over her body. It occurs to me that every woman in that photo has been sexually assaulted and physically or emotionally abused otherwise. No wonder I am angry.

I am aware that there are good men and bad men in the world. And some of the bad men we hold in high esteem. Look at the president for example and how many people support him despite his hate mongering and misogyny. So my question becomes, when will we stop turning a blind eye to the victimization of women and the idea that boys will be boys? Every 76 seconds someone in the US is sexually assaulted, most often women under the age of 30. And most often the perpetrator walks away with a slap on the wrist and the victim lives with the trauma and shame for a lifetime.

To get to the root of the problem we have only to look at our patriarchal culture. You know, the one who forced people into slavery, who beat and jailed women who fought for the right to vote, who killed people of color for the same reason. The same culture who seldom credited women for their strides in science and medicine, giving credit instead to their male colleagues. The same culture whose main theology teaches that women are subject to men and that woman was the first sinner. And let us not forget how history has tried its damnedest to bury the ancient goddess culture and make God into a man.

Even in today's world women are still considered less than men. We earn less money even while doing the same job as a man. We fight to be heard and to own the right to decisions regarding our own bodies. We get blamed for being assaulted every fucking day. We wore the wrong clothes, we were in the wrong place or were with the wrong people. All of these things are total bullshit. Did you know that until 1975 every single state had a “marital exemption” that allowed a husband to rape his wife without fear of legal consequence?

As women we have to do things to prevent getting raped. When we walk to our cars we scope out the area and carry our keys between our fingers as a protective measure. We check our backseats before getting into the car and lock our doors if sitting alone. I've asked men if these are things they think about doing and the answer in inevitably no. Being born women should not automatically make us more vulnerable, but it does. Women have to take responsibility for not getting raped rather than men taking responsibility for not raping!

I realize i'm just touching the the tip of the iceberg in regard to the problem. It is way past time for women to rise up strong. But not just women. Men, too, because these women are your sisters, mothers, daughters and partners. Men, you need to speak up and call these other men out and hold them accountable when they start talking trash about women. And women, you need to stop belittling one another and build each other up. If we are ever going to lower the cases of violence and rape against women we need to support one another and STOP blaming the woman. Even if we were in the “wrong” place, with the “wrong” people, wearing the “wrong” clothes or had too much to drink, we are never to blame for being sexually assaulted. NEVER!  

I hope someday that society, which includes church leaders, officers of the law, and judges, start treating sexual assault assailants as the criminals they are. I hope someday that women will not always have to fear for their safety and are seen as truly equal human beings. I hope that the men who truly love us will stand with us and use their voices to speak out.

Statistics say that 1 out of 4 women have been sexually assaulted. I say the number is higher just by virtue of the women I know who have been and have never reported it because of the repercussions of blame and shame. As I look at the picture of myself and these 3 women I love, 3 out of 4 never reported their assault for those very reasons. And the one that did? Her assailant spent a weekend in jail and got a slap on the wrist.

I leave you with this thought; look at the women around you and despite what statistics say, consider that probably 50-80 percent of them have been the victim of abuse or sexual assault. And when you do, remember, we are not to blame. Then I hope you get angry, too.

Anaïs Nin