Sometimes I feel such a loss for words when it comes to topics near and dear to my Druidic heart. One of those topics is the condition of the Environment...our Mother Earth.
The only thing I can say, what with temperatures in November reaching 50 when they are normally around 30 or 40, and crude oil reaching almost $100 a barrel, plus other issues compounding the situation is this:
WAKE THE HECK UP, PEOPLE!
I will confess: one of the chief reasons I began following a Pagan path was to help our Mother recover from the devastating effects we humans have had on Her ever since the Industrial Revolution. Christianity has a history of being used as an excuse to savagely rape the planet--and yes, that includes these ridiculous wars, both Congressional and guerilla, over natural resources. Why? Because of a grossly mistranslated and misinterpreted verse in Genesis that talks of "dominion over the animals and land." Therefore I left Christianity --the hypocrisies uttered and committed were driving me crazy.
One of my favorite movies has become "Happy Feet." Can you imagine the impact this movie would make if the people for whom the message was intended would actually *listen* and pay close, heartfelt attention? But it's not just about paying attention to one species' food source, it's about paying attention--*conscious* attention--to everything that is precious and sacred. If the Prez truly believes in a Creator, why is he not safeguarding for EVERYone ALL of what the Creator gave us? Why is he one of the first ones to destroy our only planetary home by ripping out Her lifeblood and selling it? Spirituality aside, why is he not listening to the environmental scientists instead of the "cha-ching" of the fuel pumps?
But maybe more importantly, why, in the name of the Great Goddess are people still choosing vehicles like SUVs and Hummers and using plastic bags at the grocery stores? Why aren't *we* paying more attention and making wiser choices? Even chain supermarkets are getting in on the act by offering cloth bags for putting groceries in at the checkout. Though they still offer plastic sacks, they're starting to purchase bags that won't rip as easily, so people can use them over and over. Yet, my guess is, people just reuse the bags once as trash can liners, and off they go to the landfill. I'm more in favor of the cloth bags myself, really, but at least with the tougher plastic, people have fewer excuses to throw away plastic grocery sacks.
Hopefully, once I get a job, I can get a bike so instead of driving around constantly, I can reduce my own carbon footprint--especially since my car isn't the most ecologically sound vehicle. I must confess that it's an '89 Lincoln Mark VII--a boat, in comparison with say, a Mini Cooper or a Toyota Prius. And at least a bike doesn't need spark plugs. Oh, and another thing a better job can get me is organic food. Sure it's more expensive, but oh-so-much better for me and the planet. The ironic thing is, not having a job right now is forcing me to not drive so much, except to the library, grocery store and job interviews.
More posts on this sort of thing to come later.
Blessings,
Rev. Kat ^.^
Friday, November 16, 2007
Monday, November 12, 2007
A Monday Meditation...
For the past few months, even a year, I've come to consider Monday as my personal "sabbath." I don't regard it as a "Sabbath" in the traditional sense, as I don't follow the mainstream. *My* definition here is mostly a dedicatory day, where I go about my usual job hunt, article and story writing, that sort of thing, but I pay special, mindful attention to the heavenly body that Monday was named after: the Moon...and the Moon's accompanying Deity, the Great Goddess.
It's secular, cultural "tradition" for people to roll their eyes at "Monday" because for a lot of folks, Monday is associated with an intense dislike of their day jobs, and a desire to do something else in their life. However, for me, it is a day to be a bit extra contemplative...to be more absorbed in the I-AM Presence, and as a mystic, I can't say it's too hard for me to become that much more absorbed in thoughts of what lies Beyond the Veil. But if you're not sure you understand my experiences...come closer to the hearth, and allow me to share with you how I've been able to transform my own concept of Monday...
...Close your eyes...count slowly to 7, the number of days in the usual week...as you count, silently watch your breath, the rise and fall of your chest, belly, abdomen. Hear the whoosh of air through your nose and mouth as you might hear the changing tide...see the number 7, associated with the cycles of change...the rise and fall of the seasons...Spring flowers, Summer's trees, Autumn's leaves falling, Winter's snow accumulating, Spring winds blowing the snow away, and on around again...watch in your mind the days of the calendar fly by...see all the Mondays in the year...they go so fast as our beautiful blue Mother whirls Her way around Father Sun...year after year...the Mondays become a blur as the changes become more evident...
And you are now floating, suspended, above our Mother, Her sister, the Moon...and you start to think of all the changes that, for so long, you thought were out of your hands...a silver jingling by your ears...a message...an echoing voice, gentle, ethereal, singing against your eardrums...
"those things were never out of your hands, for your hands are My Hands...I gave you those changes, because, dear daughters and sons...we become stagnant if there is no change. Changes are for growth. Each week of your calendar gives you an opportunity to start afresh...teachers and parents tell you to use your time wisely...what they do not tell you is the deeper secret that they themselves either don't know or ignore: Using your time wisely is not meant for mere busywork and paper-pushing...it is meant for finding your life's purpose, your life's goals, even though those goals and purposes may change and transform. I give you the Mondays in your week to begin again, refreshed and ready to change your life by your own hands...for your hands are My Hands..."
You float and fly for a while, pondering the message...you begin to slowly understand the meaning, the intent as you come back down to Earth...breathing deeply, renewed...counting back from 7, down slowly...7...6....5....4...3...2...1...you are alive...breathing deeply, the silvery light of the message tingling in your soul, your mind, your body...and you can see the Truth of the intent as you look at the calendars in your home, reminding you that no matter what happens each week, Monday can be a day to set sail towards your goals...and Mondays no longer come as a dreaded thing...but one of all 7 blessed days...
BB,
Rev. Kat ^.^
It's secular, cultural "tradition" for people to roll their eyes at "Monday" because for a lot of folks, Monday is associated with an intense dislike of their day jobs, and a desire to do something else in their life. However, for me, it is a day to be a bit extra contemplative...to be more absorbed in the I-AM Presence, and as a mystic, I can't say it's too hard for me to become that much more absorbed in thoughts of what lies Beyond the Veil. But if you're not sure you understand my experiences...come closer to the hearth, and allow me to share with you how I've been able to transform my own concept of Monday...
...Close your eyes...count slowly to 7, the number of days in the usual week...as you count, silently watch your breath, the rise and fall of your chest, belly, abdomen. Hear the whoosh of air through your nose and mouth as you might hear the changing tide...see the number 7, associated with the cycles of change...the rise and fall of the seasons...Spring flowers, Summer's trees, Autumn's leaves falling, Winter's snow accumulating, Spring winds blowing the snow away, and on around again...watch in your mind the days of the calendar fly by...see all the Mondays in the year...they go so fast as our beautiful blue Mother whirls Her way around Father Sun...year after year...the Mondays become a blur as the changes become more evident...
And you are now floating, suspended, above our Mother, Her sister, the Moon...and you start to think of all the changes that, for so long, you thought were out of your hands...a silver jingling by your ears...a message...an echoing voice, gentle, ethereal, singing against your eardrums...
"those things were never out of your hands, for your hands are My Hands...I gave you those changes, because, dear daughters and sons...we become stagnant if there is no change. Changes are for growth. Each week of your calendar gives you an opportunity to start afresh...teachers and parents tell you to use your time wisely...what they do not tell you is the deeper secret that they themselves either don't know or ignore: Using your time wisely is not meant for mere busywork and paper-pushing...it is meant for finding your life's purpose, your life's goals, even though those goals and purposes may change and transform. I give you the Mondays in your week to begin again, refreshed and ready to change your life by your own hands...for your hands are My Hands..."
You float and fly for a while, pondering the message...you begin to slowly understand the meaning, the intent as you come back down to Earth...breathing deeply, renewed...counting back from 7, down slowly...7...6....5....4...3...2...1...you are alive...breathing deeply, the silvery light of the message tingling in your soul, your mind, your body...and you can see the Truth of the intent as you look at the calendars in your home, reminding you that no matter what happens each week, Monday can be a day to set sail towards your goals...and Mondays no longer come as a dreaded thing...but one of all 7 blessed days...
BB,
Rev. Kat ^.^
Sunday, November 11, 2007
A Veterans' Day Contemplative...
It used to be that, for me, national veteran remembrance days were simply markers in the calendar where either the end of the fall semester or trimester (my high school operated on the latter) was around the corner, or the banks and post office were closed. This was probably due to my dislike of people parading around with the country's flag being melodramatic and claiming how oh-so-patriotic they were. This was an attitude I held at 8 years of age, and one that I shared with my Protest-Era parents.
I still dislike that sort of behavior. It has the vibe of the proverbial Pharisee praying out loud in the town square. But having learned the history of war at the feet of my peace-loving mom and dad, especially the conflicts that existed when they were in college (or grad school, in my dad's case--he took a educational deferment as he was classified physically unfit for duty, even as a chaplain.), and watching as our current president has overextended our country's forces in the so-called name of "war on terror," I have come to realize just how meaningful Veterans' Day has become for my peaceful-warrioress soul.
I read TIME magazine and see current articles and pictures where soldiers are sitting in worry and grief for fallen-but-still-living comrades in the hospital. I see pictures of older veterans in wheelchairs and think of how quickly our government sends our men and women off to war, but not be so quick to provide quality mental and physical care. I see vintage photographs of WWI and WWII helmets hung over guns stuck in the mud, their owners long gone into the Beyond, having died immediately from shells, shrapnel or grenades. I hear music and see videos from long ago war-times and think of my grandpa Ingram (and maybe many others) who long suffered from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder and ate their way into Type II Diabetes because that generation refused to acknowledge that it was okay to see a therapist for mental health care.
And my heart is torn. Torn over the sad necessity of WWII and the later conflict in the Balkans (1998, I think), both instances of deluded ideologues thinking one race or genetic makeup is better than another. I not only hope for peace, I pray that I can help bring about peace. Not by joining the military, as I believe that kind of activity only breeds more of what I dislike (in spite of my Aries tendency towards going a bit berserk over the little things that don't matter). But by practicing peace. By choosing and practicing peaceful ways of resolving conflict, maybe someday we won't need memorial days for soldiers. Someday we won't desire to put a bullet through someone's head just to rid the world of irrational despots, because someday the world will be free of the kind of emotional division and suffering that fear brings about.
...but we gotta start now....
In Remembrance,
Rev. Kat ^.^
I still dislike that sort of behavior. It has the vibe of the proverbial Pharisee praying out loud in the town square. But having learned the history of war at the feet of my peace-loving mom and dad, especially the conflicts that existed when they were in college (or grad school, in my dad's case--he took a educational deferment as he was classified physically unfit for duty, even as a chaplain.), and watching as our current president has overextended our country's forces in the so-called name of "war on terror," I have come to realize just how meaningful Veterans' Day has become for my peaceful-warrioress soul.
I read TIME magazine and see current articles and pictures where soldiers are sitting in worry and grief for fallen-but-still-living comrades in the hospital. I see pictures of older veterans in wheelchairs and think of how quickly our government sends our men and women off to war, but not be so quick to provide quality mental and physical care. I see vintage photographs of WWI and WWII helmets hung over guns stuck in the mud, their owners long gone into the Beyond, having died immediately from shells, shrapnel or grenades. I hear music and see videos from long ago war-times and think of my grandpa Ingram (and maybe many others) who long suffered from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder and ate their way into Type II Diabetes because that generation refused to acknowledge that it was okay to see a therapist for mental health care.
And my heart is torn. Torn over the sad necessity of WWII and the later conflict in the Balkans (1998, I think), both instances of deluded ideologues thinking one race or genetic makeup is better than another. I not only hope for peace, I pray that I can help bring about peace. Not by joining the military, as I believe that kind of activity only breeds more of what I dislike (in spite of my Aries tendency towards going a bit berserk over the little things that don't matter). But by practicing peace. By choosing and practicing peaceful ways of resolving conflict, maybe someday we won't need memorial days for soldiers. Someday we won't desire to put a bullet through someone's head just to rid the world of irrational despots, because someday the world will be free of the kind of emotional division and suffering that fear brings about.
...but we gotta start now....
In Remembrance,
Rev. Kat ^.^
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