Something to Celebrate (More on Soul Care)

This is no ordinary day. Today, she hears it said,“Love your neighbor as yourself.”* (as yourself)(as yourself) This echo ripples through her core. She had never heard it this way.It was usually:Love God. Love others.The end. (as yourself)(as yourself) There it is again. A bell rings within. “If I’m to love my neighbors as myself, How DO I love myself?” she ponders. Her non-stop days of hustle bustle come to mind.Quick eating. Limited exercise. Doing for others. Crumbs leftover for herself. She catches a snippet of harsh self-criticism in her mind;a thought she’d never dare say to another. Hmph. (as…

Return to Me: A Sacred Mother Painting Exploration

MaMagiMamaMatterMaterMother Today, I share with you a love offering. The above is a small portion of a painting I created, entitled, “Return to Me.” From March 2020 to March 2021, I took part in the Red Madonna “Psalms of Creation,” (a branch of the larger Musea community). You are invited to spend nine minutes to watch a video that shares about this painting and the exploration of the theme of Sacred Mother and her relationship to the young masculine. In the video, you’ll hear why this theme is important to me and will see some of the layers, process of…

Seeker of the Edge

(A continuation from Ash Wednesday’s poem, Seeker of Ash) • • • Outside,the moon hangs with foresight. Inside,I sit in the basement of the sanctuary, rifle theforgotten book on my lap,flashlight in hand,flip with fury,find fallen phenomenon. Creeeeeak, creeeeeak, creeeeeakFootsteps above me,my heart stops— What if they figure me out? Quiet settles,I keep on,forge for informationof the deep way With roots fixed firm,there she is —arms rise to flexible form,an expansive stretch Gaia, spreader of seeds With flaming heart,there she is —eyes flicker with desire,faces the fable of sin Eve, seeker of solid food With fluid connection,there she is—hands embrace…

Her Power Returned (Day by Day)

Her power returned to her the day she chose to place the stapler down from the boxy bulletin boardto move beyond the edges whereher creative savvy flew free. Her power returned to her the day she resigned from beating herself upfor “brokenness,” all she “isn’t” —to embrace the goodness and sacred beauty of all she is. Her power returned to her the day she traded cultural normsthat kept her quiet, small and politefor her inner wisdom which told her to move toward becoming. Her power returned to her the day she laid down the ingrained pattern to serve everyone before…