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The Siren Call of the Sacred Feminine
She calls to me. She who is weary of living far beneath, her voice stolen by fear, her power subjugated by the will of others. I took this picture of my daughter and was captivated by the presence in her eyes. The sense of self here is a reflection of the Divine Feminine that lives…
a wild rose at the field's edge
This is how you change when you go to the orchard where the heart opens: you become fragrance and the light that burning oil gives off, long strands of grieving hair, lion and at the same time, gazelle. You’re walking alone without feet, as riverwater does. The taste of a wine that is bitter and…
Feminine for Photo Friday
Goddess-in-training, Gigi, weilding her feminine power. The concept of “feminine” is an interesting one to me. What we perceive as feminine, especially in American culture, is often some kind of boxed-in, pale, sliver of femininity. Pink or feminine somehow denotes weak and helpless to some. It’s like when men insult other men by calling them…
my short skirt and embarassing assumptions
The other day a woman at my daughter’s school was telling me about the book I am an Emotional Creature: The Secret Life of Girls Around the World by Eve Ensler. She told me she wanted to loan it me and thought I would enjoy it. She told me one particular part of it reminded…
Tender
Held in Compassion I just stepped on this bee. I said, “F-ing thing! Get off me!”, and kicked it away. As the pain faded away, I watched the poor bee convulsing as it died. I’m still alive. It is dying. Yes, I am the one who stepped on it. It was no one’s fault. It…