goddessing
cosmology, consciousness, contrarinessgoddess religion: pagan blog
www.goddessmystic.com
goddess religion: pagan blog
www.goddessmystic.com
The Face of Gaia
Gaia is a tough bitch.(James Lovelock, quoting a colleague)
The Prophet of Climate Change: James Lovelock
I recommend this very readable article on James Lovelock, who postulated the Gaia Theory (Earth is a living, self-regulating, superorganism), and on his ideas about climate change, civilization, and what choices we humans have in terms of life as we know it and life as it will be in the next 10 to 100 years.
Lovelock is writing his fourth book about Gaia, the first three being Gaia: A New Look at Life on Earth, The Ages of Gaia, and The Revenge of Gaia.
Many scientists disagree with the warnings and predictions Lovelock writes about in his third book, but many of them who today agree with his Gaia Theory disagreed with it when it was published.
In Lovelock's view, it's too late to reverse the damage we've inflicted on this lovely, formerly blue, planet. He's convinced that radical changes are just ahead of us and that while "the planet itself will eventually recover its equilibrium, even if it takes millions of years," the survival of human civilization is not so certain. He suspects that by the end of this century, the earth's human population, currently 6.6 billion, will be reduced to about 500 million. How we'll be living then is anybody's guess: perhaps in a Dark Age of feudalism or, if we're smart and start thinking now about what's apparent all around us, in some kind of enlightened relationship with each other, the planet, and our role as "the brains and nervous system of Gaia."
Last year, when I read about Lovelock's third book and contemplated his conviction (despite personal optimism) that it's too late to save the planet from the logical consequences of what we've done to it, I was oddly calmed. That question, "what more can I do to save this planet," the one that had driven me like so many of us for 25 years or more, finally had some definitive answers.
Fifty-something and disabled, there's truthfully very little more I can do. Oh of course I'll continue to reduce, reuse, recycle, and rethink. My partner will up telecommuting from one day a week to two as soon as possible. Our next vehicle will be a hybrid. We'll finally do what's taken some time for the squeamish one of us to get behind: worm composting. We keep the thermostat low in the winter and high in the summer, and dress accordingly (our friends know to dress for the indoor temperatures when they visit). Already most of what we eat is produced and purchased locally, is organic, and, in the case of animal protein, is free range.
Above and beyond these and other responsible acts? I have my answer: Be conscious, each moment possible, of the beauty of life around and within me. Be conscious, be grateful, be awed. Marvel at the sound of sandhill cranes flying high above me as they migrate south. Feel the power and life-force of the broad-shouldered hawk that perches in the oaks between me and the lake. Speak the 10,000 names of the colors of water and sky in their daily variety. Love more, and be open to being loved more. Dream in winter of bloodroot in spring. Heal myself. Help others. Love the earth. Be here now.
Labels: beauty, climate change, earth, Gaia, goddess
Reflection
A bright mid-afternoon sun floods white houses on the far side of the pale blue lake, its beauty and light reflected back this way. Earlier, when the sun was higher in the sky, it was the season's first snow that reflected back all that light.
In the light of the bright cold day, birds feed vigorously.
The woman of the house anticipates her first solitary thanksgiving meal, turkey, wild rice, cranberries, roots.
Solitude spotlights soul in this early-winter retreat; five days of solitude, days out of time. A friend's tale sets the ritual, daily rice offerings to Inari, Shinto kami, goddess, nature spirit, white fox.
Do we, as Pagans, separate our practice from our lives? We could easily say no. Our spiritual practices are intimately bound up with our lives. And yet it's an interesting question.
No doubt in the middle of activism or yard-work we're at an intersection of Pagan practice and life. When we work at our altars, our focus is usually about our lives, here and now (or a soon-to-be present). But what about when walking, talking on the phone, buying groceries, doing laundry, taking the kids to soccer, doing our money-work, arguing with our spouses? Do we separate those things out from what we consider to be spiritual practice?
We're a diverse lot, so one Pagan's spiritual practice is not necessarily another's. Some of us meditate for quieting the mind, some for being fully present with the mind, others for giving deep mind the time to communicate with conscious mind. Some of us don't meditate at all, considering meditation a non-Pagan spiritual practice.
These days, my mind is full of what I see — beauty, order, leaves turning yellow; of what I hear — the chit of the chipmonk, the chatter of birds at the feeder, the deep tones of the alto chimes hanging high in the oak by the porch; of what I feel — awe and pride and gratitude at my healing and recovery, a deeper, more complex love for my spouse, fear, uncertainty, urgency, hope; of what I do — cook, clean, craft, create wealth. The Goddess most in my mind and heart is Hestia — domestic flame, She Who has no human form. In Hestia, in the hearth, the mystic is deeply rooted in the mundane.
Spindly phlox, a sprinkling of mums, diminutive obedience plants, small-leaf hostas, magnificent sedums, and the steadfast knock-out roses -- these are the last of the blooming perennials in the yard. Here in south-central Wisconsin a cold fall is upon us, though warmer days ahead are predicted, and as my ninth growing season at this home comes to an end, I can look back to April's earliest bloomers, the bloodroot and Dutchman's breeches, and see that I've realized what I knew was possible -- perennials in continuous bloom, providing color in the yard for the entire growing season.
The lake was calm this morning, despite a steady breeze, a single fishing boat on it. The out-of-towners are nearing the end of their weekend visits, and soon our little neighborhood of houses tucked under oaks and maples will resume its seasonal stillness and quiet.
An early Equinox gathering on Saturday night brought good friends to the house for a gluten-free harvest feast -- black-bean and white-bean soups to represent the time of equal darkness and light, salad greens, my first gluten-free cornbread, and a crisp made from a gift of Wolf River apples. A platter of fruit and flowers were laid before Tara, harvest tales were told, words of gratitude spoken, and hopes and dreams for the coming year spiraled out into the universe on waves of sound from womens' drums.
Oracle
Om
Goddesses
Priestess Path
Site Links
Contact Me
Blogroll [an error occurred while processing this directive]
From somewhere
DJSwa.com
DJSwa
The Bar Corporation
Carlos Cool Corner
In the light of the bright cold day, birds feed vigorously.
The woman of the house anticipates her first solitary thanksgiving meal, turkey, wild rice, cranberries, roots.
Solitude spotlights soul in this early-winter retreat; five days of solitude, days out of time. A friend's tale sets the ritual, daily rice offerings to Inari, Shinto kami, goddess, nature spirit, white fox.
Labels: goddess, lake living, ritual, solitude
Spiritual Practice intersection Life
In the West people tend to separate their meditation practice from their lives. Ajahn Chah emphasized that "if you have time to breathe you have time to meditate." You breathe when you walk. You breathe when you stand. You breathe when you lie down.Buddhist Monk Ajahn Amaro, Inquiring Mind interview (12:1), as quoted at The Path to Nirvana
Do we, as Pagans, separate our practice from our lives? We could easily say no. Our spiritual practices are intimately bound up with our lives. And yet it's an interesting question.
No doubt in the middle of activism or yard-work we're at an intersection of Pagan practice and life. When we work at our altars, our focus is usually about our lives, here and now (or a soon-to-be present). But what about when walking, talking on the phone, buying groceries, doing laundry, taking the kids to soccer, doing our money-work, arguing with our spouses? Do we separate those things out from what we consider to be spiritual practice?
We're a diverse lot, so one Pagan's spiritual practice is not necessarily another's. Some of us meditate for quieting the mind, some for being fully present with the mind, others for giving deep mind the time to communicate with conscious mind. Some of us don't meditate at all, considering meditation a non-Pagan spiritual practice.
These days, my mind is full of what I see — beauty, order, leaves turning yellow; of what I hear — the chit of the chipmonk, the chatter of birds at the feeder, the deep tones of the alto chimes hanging high in the oak by the porch; of what I feel — awe and pride and gratitude at my healing and recovery, a deeper, more complex love for my spouse, fear, uncertainty, urgency, hope; of what I do — cook, clean, craft, create wealth. The Goddess most in my mind and heart is Hestia — domestic flame, She Who has no human form. In Hestia, in the hearth, the mystic is deeply rooted in the mundane.
Labels: goddess, quotes / quotations, spiritual practice
Harvest
She told him about Blooming, about its emphasis on the importance of the patient attention necessary to bring a dormant possibility into being, and of the danger posed by the constant distraction of more immediate demands that are more easily and less effortfully fulfilled.Zanja, in Laurie Mark's Water Logic
Spindly phlox, a sprinkling of mums, diminutive obedience plants, small-leaf hostas, magnificent sedums, and the steadfast knock-out roses -- these are the last of the blooming perennials in the yard. Here in south-central Wisconsin a cold fall is upon us, though warmer days ahead are predicted, and as my ninth growing season at this home comes to an end, I can look back to April's earliest bloomers, the bloodroot and Dutchman's breeches, and see that I've realized what I knew was possible -- perennials in continuous bloom, providing color in the yard for the entire growing season.
The lake was calm this morning, despite a steady breeze, a single fishing boat on it. The out-of-towners are nearing the end of their weekend visits, and soon our little neighborhood of houses tucked under oaks and maples will resume its seasonal stillness and quiet.
An early Equinox gathering on Saturday night brought good friends to the house for a gluten-free harvest feast -- black-bean and white-bean soups to represent the time of equal darkness and light, salad greens, my first gluten-free cornbread, and a crisp made from a gift of Wolf River apples. A platter of fruit and flowers were laid before Tara, harvest tales were told, words of gratitude spoken, and hopes and dreams for the coming year spiraled out into the universe on waves of sound from womens' drums.
Labels: gardening, gluten-free, goddess, harvest, lake living, quotes / quotations, seasons
Aphrodite
Click on the image to go to the working puzzle (you may have to hit your refresh or reload button once you get there). Enjoy, and have a great weekend.
Labels: crossword puzzle, goddess
Aniconic
Aniconic is a word that has several meanings and uses, specifically in religious vocabulary. For today's purposes, we'll stick with this one — the non-anthropomorphic, non-representational image of a deity.
Breaking it down into its root parts we have the Greek prefix an (without, not) and the root word icon (likeness, image, portrait).
I run across this word frequently when reading about pagan religion and theology. Here are some examples from Prudence Jones and Nigel Pennick's A History of Pagan Europe, chapter 2, "The Greeks and the Eastern Mediterranean":
Discussed also in the "Temples and Images" section of the chapter are trees as aniconic representations of goddesses:
We learn also that the tree sacred to Aphrodite was the myrtle; for Hera, the willow.
Breaking it down into its root parts we have the Greek prefix an (without, not) and the root word icon (likeness, image, portrait).
I run across this word frequently when reading about pagan religion and theology. Here are some examples from Prudence Jones and Nigel Pennick's A History of Pagan Europe, chapter 2, "The Greeks and the Eastern Mediterranean":
"Fully developed temples preserved and revered the original sacred objects... Temples were erected around stones that contained sacred virtue. The most famed of these is the aniconic image of Aphrodite, a beatyl (a meteorite which still exists in the Cyprus Museum, Nicosia) revered at the shrine in Paphos, Cyprus... "
Discussed also in the "Temples and Images" section of the chapter are trees as aniconic representations of goddesses:
The scholiast of Aristophanes states that the olive tree was Athene's temple and her image before the times of built temples and images...
Sacred trees were often considered more holy than the altars associated with them... According to tradition, the Greeks started religion by fencing off groves of trees... No temple was dedicated unless there was a holy tree associated with it...
The oldest temples which have been found so far are all dedicated to Hera... The original cult image of Hera at Samos was, according to Phoronis, simply a plank. In Argos it was a pillar.
We learn also that the tree sacred to Aphrodite was the myrtle; for Hera, the willow.
Labels: ancient pagan religions, goddess, sacred trees, thealogy / theology
Om
Goddesses
Priestess Path
Site Links
Contact Me
My computer time is limited by my physical disabilities. It's
a precious commodity I manage carefully across various web interests,
projects, and communities. Please forgive my slow responses to emails,
my all-too-frequent nonresponses to blog comments, and the inconsistent
rhythms of blog posting and site updates. I am heartened by your visits
to my site and read everything you have to say with interest and appreciation.
Blogroll [an error occurred while processing this directive]
From somewhere
DJSwa.com
DJSwa
The Bar Corporation
Carlos Cool Corner