We bring ourselves to the Feast

We can only ever bring to the world
what we were given...
be it fear, or love, or pain.

But until we soften our gaze and see through the eyes of honor;
open our heart and feel through devotion,
awaken our mind through consciousness and
learn to dwell in the wisdom pool of the soul,
it will only ever be someone else's offering.

There is no getting it "right",
there is only what you choose to bring.

We sit at the table of the Gods,
and we are the feast.

The Pregnant Void- A womb-time journey

Prying open the Third Eye- Sunshine Miller

In my own life, I am trying to heal my womb, and this picture speaks deeply to me. I am exploring the different faces of the goddess each day in order to better understand and step into my own feminine power, rather than wielding my inner masculine power, which I was taught and mistakenly believed, was stronger. I grew up with a feminist mother whose own damaged mother crushed and repressed her feminine, so I had to learn from the beginning. And so began my healing journey to explore my matrilineal and ancestral wounding.

There tends to be, in our society, a distinct lack of understanding and appreciation of the principle energies of both sexes. I see both needing reverence rather than denigration. The honoring of the other is what I see missing in many relationships between the masculine and feminine (both within and without).

I believe that both men and women can become polarized due to our different understanding (or misunderstanding) of our own energies and a lack of acceptance of those that differ from our own truth and experience.

I see that religion and even many of the teachings of spirituality have been geared towards the masculine need for emptiness, which is not necessarily the best way for women to learn, because they come from and return to fullness. The void is not empty, but pregnant with possibility. I am learning this is in my quest for healing.

As my friend Michael Mantas put it, “I can see how [from the masculine perspective] it would be easy to believe that Nothingness is more valid that Somethingness (Womb).

For the Archetypal Masculine the Math of Spirituality is expressed as 0 + 0 = 0.

For the Archetypal Feminine the Math of Spirituality is expressed as 1 + 1 = 1.

One is rational, one is intuitive. But rational does not equal heartlessness, and intuition does not equal invalidity.”

As a result of my own explorations, and my own re-emerging feminine, I'm beginning a group of spiritual exploration and focus from the feminine perspective. It will begin as a women's group, but men who have come to a point of emptiness and wish to embrace their inner feminine might be included later, as well.

I don’t have an agenda other than calling forth and fully embracing our own divine feminine within. Exploring our feminine energy and gathering in support with a definite spiritual focus utilizing meditation, journeying and guided energetic practice techniques. This circle will begin meeting at my Doylestown office in late January or early February during the time of Imbolc or Brighid’s Day.

Because my own beliefs and healing work are earth based and influenced by lunar cycles, these will inform my facilitation. People of all faiths and belief systems are welcome. All I ask is that you come with an open mind, and an open heart.

Anyone interested can contact me by email at awalkerbtweenworlds@yahoo.com, fb message, or snail mail at Ascentuals 26 E. Swamp Rd Suite E, Doylestown PA 18901.

Thanksgiving- Feast Day of Forgiveness and Atonement

I firmly believe that Thanksgiving is just another day. Perhaps it is just my decidedly irreverent mood today, or just that I don’t blindly believe in following any tradition just because everyone else does. Being that I open my heart to gratitude and give thanks each day in my prayers, I find it odd that we have only one particular day set out for gratitude, instead of all 365 days of the year.

Some of us celebrate abundance at the height of harvest (Lammas/Lughnasadh), some at the end of harvest before the first frost (Samhain/Halloween) and some before the coldness of winter settles over the land (Thanksgiving). All can be beautiful expressions depending on your intention and focus. I'm focusing on the ho'oponopono prayer today, since Thanksgiving is ‘traditionally’ a bogus holiday created by puritanical transplants who, in their quest for freedom from religious persecution, in turn helped to decimate an entire indigenous population.

I found this posted on a NPR thread the other day, and felt it resonate as truth:

"Thanksgiving should teach us all to be afraid. Although it's well known to anyone who wants to know, let me summarize the argument against Thanksgiving: European invaders exterminated nearly the entire indigenous population to create the United States. Without that holocaust, the United States as we know it would not exist. The United States celebrates a Thanksgiving Day holiday dominated not by atonement for that horrendous crime against humanity but by a falsified account of the "encounter" between Europeans and American Indians. When confronted with this, most people in the United States (outside of indigenous communities) ignore the history or attack those who make the argument. This is intellectually dishonest, politically irresponsible, and morally bankrupt."
--Robert Jensen
http://www.commondreams.org/view/2009/11/15-2

So, I agree that we should celebrate the Harvest time (which is part of Thanksgiving) and our ability to feed ourselves through the winter. Our gratitude may be acknowledged because, truly, only 'wealthy' people feast. For if there is not an abundance of food, and good will, there can be no feasting, or a full table. But somehow we should probably make it a point to include a forgiveness ceremony and offerings as part of this holiday on this land. I will be sure to do that, as I am native to this land now, and honor its spirits and inhabitants.

Here is a beautiful prayer based on the ho’oponopono tradition, recognizing that forgiveness of self and others is paramount to opening the heart, and the full experience of love and gratitude.

MORRNAH'S PRAYER (Hawaiian Shaman)

Divine creator, father, mother, son as one...If I, my family, relatives and ancestors have offended you, your family, relatives and ancestors in thoughts, words, deeds and actions from the beginning of our creation to the present, we ask your forgiveness...Let this cleanse, purify, release, cut all the negative memories, blocks, energies and vibrations, and transmute these unwanted energies into pure light....And it is done.

http://www.manifestourreality.com/blank.html

Dream Fragment – Re-awakening the Feminine Heart

Heart of the small one, tortured…
broken open by grief, longing, yearning.
Tear-filled eyes, shining with pain.

“In service” answered the bright being,
Her eyes smiling kindly,
shining with the light of the stars.

The small one reaches out her hand to touch the light one.
“How can I live this way, with a wound that will not heal?”

“Grace is yours for the asking, bright one.
Accept what is, embrace yourself in all of your fullness.
Become one with your heart” answered the Mother.

“It is too difficult here, alone and without physical comfort.
I want to come home.”

She wavered in her lavender fullness, and revealed a rainbow heart, beating at the center of the world, in time with the small one.

“This is your heart center, and your heart is your home.
You carry your home inside, always.
The Presence is not outside, but within.
Your own divinity is soft, receptive; strong in vulnerability.
Loving…in both joy and pain.”

“Then where, bright one, can I find freedom in restriction, and stillness in chaos?”

“That is what you are feeling, child; The All of your Being.
The heart is movement- ever-shifting, conscious, active, loving.
The stillness you seek is illusion.
Only in acceptance and honoring does the pace slow enough
for you to perceive your connection to the totality.
And then, you are in Oneness.”

…and still the small self asked,
“And is there anything in that for me?”

Again, the Goddess smiled.

“Why, of course. It’s all for you, dear one.
When you open your heart,
the totality of All That Is opens.
That is the true liberation of spirit from form.”

Invoking the Cailleach

A chill wind rustles the leaves of early autumn
and the girl slips out from behind the tall,
straight trunk of the retiring maple,
her gaze still watching the summer fade behind her.

It must have slipped past without her notice,
the shift more subtle than usual this year
despite the dreams and visions.

When did the burgeoning ripeness of the Mother
turn to the visage of the Crone?

How long has the Old One been standing
in the Northwest corner,
waiting for her to see?

The girl knows that the summer boy
has departed for good once again,
without a parting kiss,
no honoring of love shared,
or even a proper goodbye.

The tears of sorrow fall to the ground,
the unseen beings silently accept the offering.

The Ancient Mother is aware of all this,
the pain palpable as she watches
the bright red heart of the girl crack open.
This is the fertilizer for the seeds of the new
though the girl does not yet know.

The long eye of the Cailleach
glances simultaneously back to all that was,
and forward to all that might become.
The longing of the girl who awaits her release into death
has invoked her full power,
unknowable and full of destruction.

The Hag misses nothing,
noting the cowardly withdrawal
of the masculine.

The denial of love, a closing down, an easy conquest.
Where are the men who used to hold the space?
When as Badbh she wields her scythe of blind Justice,
this transgression will not be forgotten.
As the earth slowly releases the final bounty,
the cycle of her power grows.

With her left eye, she gazes forward
into the harsh wind of deep autumn,
and the soft dreamtime of Winter.

The Morrigan cracks a wide, forbidding smile,
relishing the tearing away of the old
creating a space for the tiny seeds of hope
to be planted in the now barren soil.

The Ancient Crone reaches out her arms, waiting.
Time to clear what no longer serves,
and welcome the girl
into the embrace of the twilight.

The Cailleach knows the Truth of this world;
All things must die.
And what she cannot teach through love,
will be learned through fear.

There is no difference save what we create.

Womb-time memory

'New Hope'- Barry Mack 48x72


Blood, bright red and shiny.
Today the pain is much less, she thought.
Better this time not to be hunched over,
waiting for something to move.
Better than a time long ago,
when she felt moved, and there was no trace.
Nothing but a faint memory, and a whiff of anaesthetic.
An ultra-sound picture,
taken by a well-meaning nurse and mother.
"Don't you want to see?" she asked, puzzled.
There was no pain then. Only numbness.

She grieves a past that never was,
and weeps for a future that will never be.

She thought she'd made peace with herself.
Until the long view came into sharper focus;
the lost highway of baby clothes and little girl dresses,
dimmed with the passing years.

And yet her womb is producing something.
How many are they?
How many growing in there,
feeding on shame, and self-esteem...
robbing creativity?
Something read, and remembered from Buddhist query:
If every living thing is an entity of the Mystic Law,
can she chant that these small,
dark growths evolve and support life,
instead of draining it?
Tiny bloodsuckers, drawing energy into the vortex.
What can ever come of that?

Blood.
Bright red and shiny.
Sacrificed to the earth.
Surrendered in love.
Each small thing released, and named.
One for each love she's ever had.
Some never embraced or admitted to.
So many tears shed, a deepening stillness spread within,
and all around.
Perhaps now her womb can be whole, and healed.

The Nature of Sacrifice

'Being'- Barry Mack

Repost from Tuesday, January 29, 2008

Nearly 3 years ago, prior to Hurricane Katrina, I began to receive messages, instruction, dream 'transmissions' regarding the nature of energy. How it is contained within nature. How it is transmitted. How it can be harvested, stored and accessed; utilized for protection, and for healing.

And about the nature of sacrifice.

At first these things seemed unrelated. And even though I was 'shown' how the act of sacrifice affected particular energy lines (literal and figurative), I was still not clear exactly what was considered a 'sacrifice'. Or that I wanted to know. Why was I being shown this?

The very word itself made me uncomfortable. I began to understand that it was the definition associated with the word that left me with this confused emotional discomfort.

This is taken directly from the Britannica Ready Reference:

sacrificen [ME, fr. OF, fr. L sacrificium, fr. sacr-, sacer + facere to make--more at do] (13c) 1: an act of offering to a deity something precious; esp: the killing of a victim on an altar 2: something offered in sacrifice 3 a: destruction or surrender ofsomething for the sake of something else b: something given up or lost. sacrifice vb -ficed ; -fic.ing vt (14c) 1: to offer as a sacrifice 2: to suffer loss of, give up, renounce, injure, or destroy esp. for an ideal, belief, or end 3: to sell at a loss ~ vi 1: to make or perform the rites of a sacrifice.

This didn't really engender much comfort or trust in my 'dreamtime' instruction. Suffering, loss, renunciation, offering to a deity. It seemed so last millennium. I thought about the story of Jesus. About terrorist attacks. How religious and political extremists believed they, too, were making a sacrifice, twisted and illogical though it might be to us. And about how this is usually done in the name of a deity. Not exactly something I wanted to look at.

Then I began to understand a bit more. I learned that the definition associated with a word was similar to an energy being placed on or associated with a symbol. That the word or symbol can evoke (or invoke) a particular energy, but it can also accumulate energy that becomes connected to it that has nothing at all to do with the origin or creation intent. It can become covered over with an energy that warps and obscures the very word/symbol itself.

I've been opened to learning over these past few years that the original idea and nature of sacrifice is intrinsically connected to love. Not as far from the idea of the resurrection story of the Christ as one might think, but before the myth itself was appropriated. Used by multiple religions in a quest for 'owning' the ultimate Truth about sacrifice. To be able to dictate how one should behave in order to be Christ-like. This in and of itself helped to obfuscate the meaning of the word. Through this knowledge, I realized that without the energy of love, true sacrifice is not possible.

And that was about it, until about two weeks ago. I'd been personally working with the elemental nature of fire, and it's transmutational properties. I received another message in the time between waking and sleep. I saw the word sacrifice spelled out in front of my closed eyes. And then it moved and shifted. The letters began to rearrange themselves... sacr..sacre..fire..care. Then it looked like this: sacred caring.

So simple, really, to take so long to understand fully. Sacrifice is not a thing, not a mental construct, not even an energy. It is the very intent that creates the energy. And behind that intent is love. This is where the idea comes from about sacrifice and miraculous healing. Lifting up a prayer, or raising your voice with open-hearted love in a state of complete selflessness allows one access to the Divine energy within and without. And moving out of the way allows this energy to manifest as ultimate healing. As Oneness.

I finally understood. I was being instructed to 'take back' the very word 'sacrifice'. Not as a noun, but as a verb. The original creation intent that has been lost within our culturally narrow definition.

So here is the recently defined version as I understand it at the present moment:

Sacrifice:
sacrificen [ME, fr. OF, fr. L sacrificium, fr. sacr-, sacer + facere to make--more at do] 1) To make holy, or sacred through an act of pure love. Sacred caring [the act and intent of] 2) in healing: the holding of a sacred space, a contained and witnessing presence within which a person might offer up something one is holding [something precious] in exchange for receiving the light of love and understanding.

I send this out into the ethers with love, light and many blessings.