Share the Talking Stick

The Dance of Forever

The Dance of Forever

by Spider

 

The foreverness of the Earth is my foreverness.

The song of the birds is my song.

I remember the dance of the Grandmothers

Bringing the Way into being,

Long ago creating the path to this world.

 

I stand on the Earth, a strand in the Web of All That Is.

Following the example of the trees, I reach up to honor the Sky World.

There is a dance going on above my head.

The wind carries messages that speak to my heart.

 

Water drops down to touch the Earth.

This soft rain, the ebb and flow of the tides, the raging river, and the bubbling brook

All soothe my spirit as they flow cool and soft over my body.

Thunder awakens my being.

Lightning rejuvinates my soul.

I dance my own creation song, my honoring of life.

Wet and alive, I walk on the Ancient Ones’ path of discovery.

 

The wildness of the wolf lives within me.

With furry sisters I run through deep forest dreams

And know the words to sing to Grandmother Moon

In a song meant for all creation to join in the dance.

 

The snake moves by my feet.

We are sisters dancing together,

Entwined in endless cycles of shedding our skin,

Creators continually birthing the new.

 

My whole life becomes the dance.

Every step has meaning.

I weave as Grandmother Spider weaves;

With quick fingers plying the harmonies of the Web of Life,

Knowing the Universal Dream,

Appreciating the gifts of All Our Relations.

 

When I stand tall, my back to a tree,

I can hear the voices of the Ancestors speak in the rustling of the leaves;

I can feel the deep-rootedness of healing offered by MotherEarth;

I can dance with the wind, swaying with the canopy overhead,

In the arms of the trees, in the dance of love for all creation.

 

 I smell the soil, the damp rotting leaves,

Through them the seed and the sweetness of new life unfolding.

It is certain that, through the spongy soil

There is a promise of a field of flowers,

Just as it is certain that, through my empty womb

There is a world waiting to manifest.

 

What cloud knows deeper mysteries than I have known?

Carrying the sea within, growing larger and larger,

Expanding farther than I could ever imagine,

Then releasing my fertility to nourish new life.

I grow my children,

I grow the plants and trees,

I grow all Earth’s children, for they are all my own.

 

Inside MotherEarth is a heartbeat that inspires my own,

A heartbeat as old and reliable as this Universe.

The rhythm of life that changes with the seasons;

The consistency of life ever reforming itself.

 

I lay down on soft mud.

My body sinks into the Earth,

My hair entwines around the grass.

MotherEarth speaks to me.

She supports my body, my breath, my thoughts, my being.

I become her and she becomes me.

We always were.

 

The Grandmothers speak to me.

I hear them singing as they harvest corn,

Honoring life, giving thanks.

My Granddaughters speak to me.

I see the long hair of my daughter’s daughters,

Bouncing as they dance to celebrate the spring planting.

It always was.

It always will be.

Are We Too Prudish For Our Own Good? The Difference Between Sensuality and Sexuality

Are We Too Prudish For Our Own Good?
The Difference Between Sensuality and Sexuality
By: Tiberio Simone

Being an American citizen, I enjoy the freedom of expression enjoyed by artists in this country. However, I wonder sometimes if we grasp some of the ironies of how we express that freedom.

I am from Italy, which is known as one of the most romantic countries in Europe, a destination for lovers who come to visit from all over the world. So, perhaps I have a slightly different perspective on how Americans express themselves, particularly with regard to romance and sensuality. In Italy, we embrace these concepts in everything we do – the way we dress, the way we cook, the way we dine, and the way we live.

In America however, I sometimes sense a split personality with regard to these concepts. More specifically, I think we sometimes confuse our sensuality with sexuality, and as a result, try to keep both of them hidden for fear of corrupting our children. My point is, there is a difference.

For instance, if any part of the human body that would traditionally be covered by a bathing suit on a typical American beach is shown in a film, that film is rated for adult content, usually getting an “R.”  If it is shown in a TV show, the scene is either deleted, or the “naughty bits,” as the British call them, are digitally pixilated out. And of course those areas are not necessarily even covered by bathing suits in Europe, as many of the beaches there are clothing optional.

In this type of censorship, there is no accounting for context. It’s not about the type of scene, but rather the anatomy. If it is a romantic scene, with a context of love and respect, soft lighting, and appropriate mood, it is considered just as “dirty” as a scene in which naked women are running around and shown as sexual objects and nothing more.

The same goes for modern art. Gallery shows in which the human form is depicted tastefully and sensually are regarded as pornography by many “morals” groups, leading some Congressmen to suggest that public funding from the National Endowment for the Arts should not be awarded to any artist who deals with the nude form. The chilling effect, when we approach the sensual and the sexual in the same way, is that we teach our children that nudity itself is a dirty thing, and that they should all be ashamed of their bodies.

That is why young adults in America go directly from puberty straight to pornography – because they do not have anything in between, such as public art or other forms of healthy nudity – things that would help them develop an understanding of sensuality.

Here is the ultimate irony. While we demonize certain parts of the human form, we don’t demonize treating women as sex objects at all, because we use sex to sell just about everything in the consumer marketplace. In TV commercials, young, attractive, and barely dressed women sell everything from cars to beer, weight loss plans to gym gear, breakfast cereals to vacation destinations – even snack foods practically guaranteed to make the men who eat them incredibly unattractive to the women used to sell them.

The difference here is context. We enter the world naked. It is our most natural state as humans, yet the naked body is considered dirty and inappropriate for all time zones. Meanwhile, treating women not as people, but simply as objects of sexual desire, which demeans all women in the process, is perfectly acceptable.

We need to create an environment in America in which sensuality is not confused with sexuality, so that we can all enjoy a freedom of expression that is based in context and meaning instead of an unhealthy and negative obsession with sex.

(Born in southern Italy, Tiberio Simone is a James Beard Award-winning chef and co-author of La Figa: Visions of Food and Form www.LaFigaProject.com, a coffee table book that features a spectacular collection of sensual photography – models wearing nothing but Simone’s edible creations.)

Old Witches and Crones—not derogatory terms after all

Old Witches and Crones—not derogatory terms after all

Valerie Hadden

 Boston Pagan Examiner

Why are “witches” often depicted as old and ugly, with large noses and chins, and warts on their noses? And what about the word “crone”? Is it always derogatory? The answers are tied in with paganism, Witchcraft, and the veneration of age, femininity, and wisdom.

Jenny, a pagan living in Massachusetts, writes, “Over the years I heard the old decrepit witch with a wart explained to me as the village wise woman. She is now old, has seen the years go by, has helped people with herbs, healed the sick, delivered babies, etc. As we age our nose and ears grow bigger, more wrinkles, etc. I thought it was a nice way to think of her.”....

Read the rest of Valerie's article here: http://www.examiner.com/pagan-in-boston/old-witches-and-crones-not-derogatory-terms-after-all

hair2help ~ Making a Difference in the Lives of Those Affected by Cancer

James Corbett, well known NYC celebrity hair stylist, announced the launch of his new charity,

www.hair2help.org

Video courtesy of http://www.paltalk.com/

 Through hair2help, the James Corbett Studio in Manhattan, will provide free services to cancer patients and their caregivers to help them feel better about themselves as they go through treatment.  They will be able to get the full spa treatment: Hair, nails, massage, reflexology, massage all for free

While there is nothing fun or glamorous about cancer, everyone deserves to look and feel fabulous - especially the courageous women struggling with such a life-altering disease.  That is why James Corbett, whose regular clientele includes models, celebrities, and beauty insiders, founded Hair2Help. Corbett started Hair2Help in October 2010 when he realized there was a need to help women affected by cancer.  His spa days for cancer patients and their caregivers invite women who are suffering, in to be pampered, beautified, and receive alternative treatments if they so choose.

“A day in the spa that uses all organic, non-toxic treatments and is tailored to their needs and wishes can help them regain their dignity and self-esteem,”

With the support of the American Cancer Society's Hope Lodge, his fellow colleagues and beauty industry peers, Corbett has helped ten women currently undergoing outpatient treatment for cancer and their primary caregivers on each spa day. Many women say the spa day has completely changed their outlook.  One who struggled with treatment for stage 3 ovarian cancer and deep depression smiles when she recalls how good she felt.

Please visit this non-profit at http://hair2help.org/

Video and information courtesy of www.paltalk.com

 

 

 

The Hows on Flower Essences for Anxiety Disorder

The Hows on Flower Essences for Anxiety Disorder

Flower essence therapy is a simple but very interesting way of managing contrasting emotions, stress, and anxiety. It is often mistaken for aroma therapy; however, it is more in lined with homeopathic remedies. Given its simple process, it is quite hard to believe that it has the capacity to transmute the negative into the positive, especially in people with anxiety disorder. But it is known to effectively work in restoring equilibrium and balance.

In Europe, it is widely believed among alternative medicine specialists that flower essences can redirect unfocused energy.  It helps stabilize the flow of energy, making it effective in alleviating emotional confusion, stress and frustration. Although some doubt its ability to provide any significant healing because the preparation of the essence is too diluted compared with its counterparts, most people who tried it have definitely attested to its cleansing and calming ability.

Trying out this therapy can be interestingly easy. Here, we will walk you through a simple and comprehensive way of preparing homemade flower essences. You can readily use them whenever anxiety seeps in.

 

How to Prepare

You would need a clear glass bowl, bottles that have approximately 30 ml of volume, a funnel, a strainer (preferably the coffee filter that is unbleached), brandy, spring water and droppers.

The first step is to prepare the flowers to be used. Now, this is important as it is the heart of the process. It is in the picking of the flowers that the energy cycle starts. It is most preferable that you pick flowers that represent vitality and energy.  The perfect season would be spring, just as the flowers are blooming. Early morning would be the best time to start picking your flowers. Morning dew keeps the energy. When the sun is all out, flowers tend to dissipate under the heat.

Have you heard that talking soothingly to a plant can diminish stress for both of you? Well, that actually works. It is advised that before you pick the flower, you must soothe it and ask for permission. Some would use a pendulum if possible, but your intuition can tell you that the flower would want to be picked. In that way, the intent of healing can potentiate. As you breathe slowly, you get to achieve relaxation even prior to the intake of the essence.

While picking the flowers, it is best to use cotton gloves or directly drop them in the clear glass bowl filled with spring water. You need to cover the surface of the water with whole flowers. After the flower picking, the next crucial step in the energy cycle is to put them under direct sunlight for three hours. Make sure that nothing is going to shadow the bowl. After three hours, the flower essence is produced. Remove the flowers from the essence.  Fill half of each bottle with brandy. You can also use vodka or 151 rum. Filter the essence into the bottles. This is what we now call the Mother Essence. Close the bottle and label it with the flower used.  Store and keep these bottles in cool, clean dark places and away from any electro-magnetic device.

How to Use

There are a lot of ways that the Mother Essence can be used.  To begin with, drop two to seven drops of Mother Essence into a solution composed of equal parts of water and glycerine or vinegar. Put them in stock bottles. Use the essence by adding a few drops to your drinking water. You can also add some drops to water in a spray bottle and spray on to your hair. Putting four drops under the tongue also works.

Remember that the principle of this whole flower essence therapy is that the more diluted the solution is, the more power it can give off. The more you use it, the more energy you can get.

Now that you know how to make your very own flower essence, you do not have to look for them in stores. You can start redirecting your negativity using essences you prepared personally. The experience in making them would definitely add to the stress-reducing procedure.  You even get to be one with nature.

Note that this particular anxiety treatment works on a vibration level. It is unlike biochemical treatments. It takes a varied amount of time. It can be more or less before effects are noticeable. But as soon as you start, the transformation would be like a ripple effect.  It would start minutely and eventually result in a shift to positivity. You would then see subtle changes in eating, sleeping, moods and thinking. A sense of calmness would finally be an everyday thing. A good night’s sleep would be something to look forward to.

 

Ryan Rivera used to struggle with anxiety. He took control of the situation and won the battle. He now talks about his journey and shares tips and techniques on how to survive anxiety and panic attack at www.calmclinic.com.

The Green Woman - Part 3

The Green Woman - Part 3

by Chloe Pringle

Part One can be found here

Part Two can be found here

Pulling her boots on and avoiding looking at the card and pouch she stepped outside. Don’t take em too seriously eh? I need to walk, just an average stroll at auntie Clarys.

The day was cloudy but warm as she stepped out, the familiarity of the garden calmed her, no hemlock here, all, parsley n dill. A nice stroll she thought, yep Ill pick me some greens. Handily a basket, complete with scissors in it was sitting, on the deck.  Chickweeds looking happy she smiled. Clary’s garden was one where weeds were encouraged, being full of wild food goodness, they had beds to themselves to flourish merrily without fear of pulling or pesticides. She crouched down and began to snip, the rhythm soothing her, as she cut nettle, lettuce leaves, baby silverbeet, dandelion tips and parsley. Fresh salad greens ready and I’m going to go visit the neighbours, find out some more about you n your surprises Clary....

The folks next door, some way in these parts, were a young family with that glow that slightly bemused Sam, being beyond her range of experiences. Friendly, simply living their lives. Clary spoke of them kindly and mutual visitations for the odd cuppa had kept them in neighbourly touch...

“We haven’t heard from her since she went to visit her friend. That was almost 2 months ago, she left raging against regulations and destroying traditions, like she was fired up for another book, or a court case. You know how she was, some big wigs shut Edna down cos she was teaching people how to use the medicines that Clary helped to make. Misinformation or something, trained chemist should know better than to meddle with herbs.

“Can we do anything for you?”

“No, that’s ok, I think I just need time. Time, and some contact details, you wouldn’t have Edna’s number?”

“Let me have a look, I’ll ask Fred if he knows anything else and if he does I’ll let you know straight up. At least you’re here, and that’s something, you can keep the place ticking over. She must have got real fired up this time, she always was one for a mission.”

Sam wandered bleary eyed and in a state of shock back to the house, the old place was her headquarters, as the garden and the vines encroached. She didn’t know where or what to do, but collapsed on the sofa and slept. No nightmares, no visions, just sleep for a weary traveler.....

The date on the discarded parcel wrapping was 2 months ago....

**********************************************************************************

When Sam awoke at least she felt rested, but as her eyes scanned the house she saw it in a new light. This was Clary’s life’s work scattered around her now, piles and lack of filing and all, it was an act of devotion from a woman who adored things green and growing. What was she meant to do now? Why had no one called her? Who was there? Clary hadn’t been a blood relation but she was a friend of the family going way back. There was no landline here, and Sam had happily left her mobile back at her flat.

She unconsciously sat and fiddled with the leather pouch, soft and warm. Her hand delved in and shuffled away, she pulled another card. A woman, a green woman, with nettles in her hair and bushflowers all around her. A blend of the two realms. Thank goddess she sighed, no ominous forces here, natures soft side. Not despite, but because of her sting though, nettle taught awareness. Green awareness. The card eased her but also brought tears.

Through the eons shamans voyaged to discover from the plants themselves, in a less Linnaeus based format, what medicines they carried. Passed down what they learnt orally, sometimes only to apprentices. Is that what I was for you Clary? An apprentice? Did you expect me to translate all these piles as only you could? I don’t know enough, I barely know a handful of plants and I’m no shaman, although my fishy friend imposed some faith in me. Her dream flooded back, how could  anyone expect her to save the ol ways from anybody, when she didn’t have them in her comprehension? This was Clary’s work, I’m just a sometime gardener and artist. What of Clary’s affairs, she thought as she looked towards the door and noticed a bunch of semidried plant matter bound to the architrave.

Getting up somewhat nervously she picked it up and saw the speckled stems. She turned and began to see the space as it truly was, a frenzy of activity had gone on here, a driven focus with an emphasis on finishing and ‘organising’ research. Hemlock was bound protectively in other places too.... above the kitchen window, on the bookshelves. This was Clary’s legacy, but where was she herself?

Sam made her way into the study and there on the desk was the closest thing to organisation she’d seen, apart from the medicines. A document on beautiful sepia paper, “A Post Apocalyptic Herbal”. Not in the scribble of the parcels note but a calligraphy like lettering designed with intention. She turned the page, apocalypse, jesus I thought I was getting away from that....

"The Green Woman" is a taster of a herbal tale. If you enjoy this portion you can read more at http://opalplantways.blogspot.com/

The Green Woman ~ Part 2

The Green Woman - Part 2

by Chloe Pringle

Part one can be found here

“This is your stop me dear”, the bus drivers voice woke her from internal ramblings. She gathered her bags and jumped up, “thanks”, “Nice to see you around again luv”. She bounced down the steps and almost right into the series of individually crafted mailboxes that marked journeys end, and the lanes.

One an old dairy tin, one an old bent shovel, one aged but elegantly carpented...

She checked the box and got set for heading up the lane, that cup of tea seeming elementally desireable as the bus kicked back dust into her vision. Hang on, there was something in the box. A small parcel, oddly enough in Carissa’s own handwriting, addressed to Sam. That’s odd , still I guess she’ll reveal all, in her wise way. It was heavy in her hands, and her curiosity was barely able to be kept at bay to not bust it open then and there. Full of surprises as usual she thought absent mindedly. At that point she had no idea how right she was...

It wasn’t unusual for Clarissa not to be around when you arrived, she might be off wildcrafting or just meandering about soaking in the day. Sam sat down, the kettle was on the pot belly stove which wasn’t lit, she probably got distracted half way through, the fire was laid ready to light. Sam looked at the parcel she held. It was brown paper bound in string, with enough sticky tape to stop an army, so being one mere woman she found a knife and cut it open. Inside was a leather pouch, soft to the touch with wear.

Inside it was a set of playing cards and a note. No, they weren’t  a deck to play poker with she realised as she shuffled through them, they were some kind of divination or tarot deck. The drawings were mostly in earthern tones, pencil with watercolour washes layered over. The imagery was detailed, figures seemed to blur boundaries with plants and animals interlaced with labyrinthine patterns, like Eshers art they warped and confused seeing. The note...sure enough in aunties script, more scribble actually, but she read on...

“Got called away, someone’s trying to shut down Ednas medicine making, says its unhygienic and unsafe, danger to public health, never heard anything more ridiculous in my life! She’s so house proud its virtually an obsession. Anyway love, might take a week or so to sort this out, so make yourself at home and Ill see you when I’m looking at you. The sheer arrogance of so called regulators, the things these people do to ones nerves. ”

Sam could almost see her shaking her head, and smiled. “Oh yes the cards I found in a rare cleanup, they belonged to your mother, never really fancied them myself. Anyways, enjoy them, but don’t get too serious eh?”

No Clarissa, and yes I’m happy to water all your multitudinous slightly limp plants. They are engaging, she thought gazing at the card as her vision traced a vine like sworl of lines, morphing into a vortex, and almost trance inducing, as they became a waterfall and then a river. A leaping salmon that had such eyes she felt guilty as she thought with her belly, fresh fish.....mmmm. But the card was so engrossing it took her a time to connect with her inner ravaging hunger and put it down, one upturned the others in the bag. Transfiguration, she thought absentmindedly as she bent to light the fire and looked around her....odd word.....

The house was brimming with natural chaos, “Seems they got the wrong woman with Edna” she thought. Cuttings at various stages, potted up plants, piles of paper with illustrations and notes, books, vases of unusual flowers, and a vine that had wedged a way through a crack and was firmly making its way towards the study. Although there really wasn’t any distinction between ‘the study’ and the rest of the small cottage. The sofa had a doona on it for handy napping and there were bookshelves in every room.

To give credit where due her medicine area was scrupulously organised. With a book at the end of the shelves listing what was in stock, or needed topping up. Sam knew Clarissa rarely treated anyone, her main relationship was with the plants and the tinctures, dried herbs, flower essences, infused oils and god knows what else, were a side tangent that possibly Edna had some of. Hence her aunt was partly responsible for her troubles. Edna had been a chemist in the 1930’s during the great depression, after which she turned and applied her knowledge and skills to what she called peoples medicine she and Clarissa became firm friends. One trained by science, the other by growing and wildcrafting.

Sam headed for the fridge.

To her delight there was a variety of tempting smelling cheeses, some smoked trout and bread. Any tomatoes Clar? Perfect. She prepared her snack, deciding after to go harvest some parsley, mint, chickweed and see what else was up in the garden. The garden was a continuum of the house’s energies, the two blending into each other, and then finally into the forest....

The relationship between us and plants has been as long as we have existed. Our ancestors were probably algae, or ate them as they developed limbs and animalian consciousness in primordial slime, she thought, returning to the card and noticing something she hadn’t before. A hemlock plant dappled with purple on its stem not unlike the colouration on the fishes skin. How did I miss that. I must be tired. Garden later, cat nap first. Sofas ready and able to provide. It felt good to be here, the to do lists she had left behind seemed a million miles away as she slipped into sleep. 

She dreamed of a man with a troutskin cloak, dappled in greens, blues and purples. A man with wild eyes and a feel of the shaman about him, who spoke languid as water. Touched u are, like your grandmother, and he reached out a hand and placed it on hers, cold and damp it was, there’s danger and you know it. That’s why you’re here innit, before they come, to save the ol ways from em. She raised her eyes to his and they had no pupils, round and dark like pools, watch yourself they come in forms to deceive, he  whispered in a burbling and bubbling. Then was gone like a vision, and she awake as morning. Jesus that fish must have been off she thought scrabbling for distance, her conscious mind alerted and shaking off sleep....

She lay back down and tried to think of boring mundanity but her new fishy friend was not so easily dismissed from her. Whhheeeww she exhaled and reached absent mindedly over to the nearest pile of paperology for distraction. In her hand she held an image of hemlock, an old one like those medieval herbals. Woodcuts that were originally botanically accurate, drawn by monks mostly, then deadly member of the carrot family.

I don’t even have a phone number for Edna. People knew everything about everyone round here, for all her eccentricities they left Clary alone but surely the word would have got out if anything untoward had happened? Like what, a trout man driving her away? I need to go for a walk.....

"The Green Woman" is a taster of a herbal tale. If you enjoy this portion you can read more at http://opalplantways.blogspot.com/

 

The Green Woman-Part 1

The Green Woman-Part 1

by Chloe Pringle

As science broke down plants into the parts of them ‘active’, or companies focused on introducing ‘new’ wonder herbs, there was something that fell away, was veiled. It wasn’t that the information wasn’t valid, but that it was touted as the only route to understanding and clear seeing. One that missed that unnameable blend that nature creates in a plant, that’s not measureable. A kind of essence....

Sam had watched her aunt when she came across a plant she didn’t know....

There was a recognition and respect with which she approached it, a sitting with. Deep breathing, so slow as to be almost imperceptible...like the pulsing of the plants own inhalation, exhalation. Carbon dioxide in, oxygen out. Receiving...giving....receiving....giving.... each life form echoing the other. Some observers might see nothing going on, but it was a simple ritual ancestors had practiced back through time....

Perhaps there were physical similarities to plants she knew, a shared hereditary that could give clues as to its strengths, never assuming over familiarity with a potential new friend. A small piece in the mouth and chewed, spat out immediately if the taste was unpleasant. No one said you had to eat a whole lot to get to know a plant! If it passed this somewhat intuitive test agreeably, she held it in her mouth and felt for burning, tingling, other sensations, any change in taste. If there was none , then she swallowed. Then she waited, feeling overnight for effects. Then, again, a little more, repeating the same process. If no ill effects were noticed, over time, it was considered edible. But if there were noticeable effects, they would be explored carefully, they could be clues to medicine contained within.

Nowadays it would be sent off for testing, active ingredients explored and nutritional percentages analysed. If it proved ‘valuable’, they might be isolated and reproduced, to be bought as pharmaceutical drugs. All the while emphasising the danger of utilising the plant for common folks, without degrees...odd paradox. It was the taking away and then reselling it back to people that seemed dodgey. Surely once medicinal properties are identified, one aware of the range of processing, in tradition for so long, could access it and if it was poisonous you can bet it’d be remembered!

What a way to gather plant knowledge, through experiential learning. There were enough manuscripts gathered now that could be cross referenced if needed too....

All this was jumbling around in her mind, along with her bowels, as the bus shook along the dirt road. She was on her way to visit said aunt for a couple of weeks, annual pilgrimage.  Same time every year. Get away from concrete and computers. Fear encouraging news reports on violence and impending doom. She was headed for the perfect antidote. Auntie Clarissa wasn’t your average grey haired pucker cheeked robust smiling eyes stereotype, she was all that plus a kick on her like a mule! You just knew the kettle’d be on the boil in preparation for your arrival accompanied by an opinionated rave on her latest project. Simple pleasures that’s what I need she thought, enough with appointments and timetable living...

She gazed out at the passing world hazily with the odd percussive bump...

 

"The Green Woman" is a taster of a herbal tale. If you enjoy this portion you can read more at http://opalplantways.blogspot.com/

 

 

 

Goddess on Earth by Lisa Levart

Goddess on Earth

by Lisa Levart

Lisa Levart is photographer and multi-media installation artist. Goddess on Earth, her book of portraits of women as the divine feminine, will be release by LUSH Press in the fall. Her photography captures the vitality, archetypal beauty, and inner life of her individual subjects.

Levart’s photographs have appeared in numerous publications, including: Architectural Digest, New York magazine, The New York Times, O, The Oprah Magazine, Time magazine, and The Washington Post. Lisa’s work includes an ongoing project photographing the Maloto organization in Malawi, Africa that helps feed, educate and empower the women and children of their region.

Read Lisa's Huffington Post Blog. Many Everday Goddesses are mentioned, including Susun Weed!

Lessons Learned from Everday Goddesses. 

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/lisa-levart/everyday-goddesses_b_928177.html

Why We Love Her ~ Artemis, Goddess of the Wild

Why We Love Her ~ Artemis, Goddess of the Wild

Like a summer wind that hits the forest and dances with the aromatic pine needles of the evergreen; Artemis is free. Goddess of the Wild, and of the hunt she is the free spirit that flutters beneath your skin like thousands of butterflies in search of the truth within your heart. Artemis is a virgin Goddess and no not Virgin in the same context as we use today, for Artemis did take lovers but she choose not to marry or to have children.

Instead she spent her time with the candid woodland nymphs and protected all animals, including human women while pregnant and during labor. Her symbols are the crescent moon which represents her bow and arrows, as she was not only an avid huntress but a warrior goddess as well. She believed in herself first and foremost and with the fierceness of a mother bear she refused to back down from what she believed.

Why do we love her? There are lots of reasons why this kick ass Goddess was worshiped by some of the first feminists on the planet! But let’s highlight just a few.

1. This Greek Goddess has the power to both protect and nurture all life but also has the power to take life away while on the hunt; showing us that woman can be both soft and hard, brave and gentle. The key here is to remember that life is about opposites and its okay to embrace both the dark and light aspects of ourselves.

2. Artemis doesn’t take crap from anybody! She is strong willed and fights for what she believes in. Ancient woman recognized the importance of this trait and honored the Goddess with feasts and ritual allowing only woman to learn her secret mysteries. For it was said that any man who laid his eyes on the lovely forest Goddess without her permission would surly find the wrath of her arrows. She shows us that it is not okay to let anyone take advantage of us. To stand up for ourselves and fight for what we believe in.

3. By choosing not to have a husband or bare children, Artemis shows us that we do have a choice. It doesn’t matter what path you choose to walk down, it matters that you chose what is best for you based on your own free will. The best lesson we can learn from her is that we should always follow the truth within our hearts. That if we listen carefully our inner voice will tell us exactly what it is we need and what anybody else thinks….. doesn’t matter!

For more information on Artemis: Check out Melissa Potter’s Class Reclaiming Artemis: Calling Passion, Power, and Wildness Back into Your Life available from the Wise Woman University.

 

Stephanie Cavoli has been interested in writing and studying Woman’s Mysteries her whole life. Fascinated with the beauty, power, and prestige ancient myths have give Goddesses around the world, she has found that to empower women, is to honor and celebrate their individual uniqueness.

The Many facets of the Goddess is an amazing demonstration of just that. Stephanie owns and operates Potions Soapworks, plans to graduate from the Center of Natural Wellness, School of Massage Therapy in Albany NY this fall, and is excited to be able to incorporate her love for these Goddesses in her practice as well as her business. Stephanie may be contacted at Reclaimingthegoddess@yahoo.com or visit her website at www.Potionssoapworks.com