A huge thunderstorm brews just over the horizon as I take a wonder walk at Wonderland Lake. Thunder rumbles on the ridge, yet the lake is still, perfectly still. Reflections of the foothills play on the surface of the water. The air is charged with magic potential. My mind stills. I remember a passage from one of my favorite books:
The silence is all there is. It is the alpha and the omega. It is God’s brooding over the face of the waters; it is the blended note of the ten thousand things, the whine of wings.”
“To learn to see, to learn to hear, you must… Go into the wilderness alone. For it is not I who teach you the ways of the Gods. Such things are learned only in solitude.”
There is a sacred ground that is calling to us to heal now; it is the ground of feminine energies that hold and nourish life. This feminine ground can be found in the dirt of mother earth that holds and nourishes a tiny plant seedling, and within the womb of each woman that holds and nourishes a human embryo. Both plant and human require the sacred ground of mother to sprout and grow new life.
I read of a young woman being brutally raped and left for dead on a bus in India. I turn the page and read of Mother Earth being raped and polluted in a search for oil in the tar sands of Canada. And I feel the same energy in both acts; a hatred and a dishonoring of the feminine. It is the male warrior energy run rampant, forgetting the sacredness of the feminine body.
The feminine body has been objectified and mistreated for generations. Both the female womb and the dirt of Mother Earth have been dishonored and defiled again and again. Entire cultures and religions curse and blame the feminine for our human fall from grace. Those that don’t understand the gifts of the feminine have tried to stifle her wisdom and annihilate her power.
We fear what we do not understand. But how can we possibly kill what holds and nurtures each life? If we kill the mother, we kill ourselves. And even when we deny the sacredness of the feminine, the mother quietly continues to perform her sacred magic, holding ground for every new life.
Mother is so quiet, dark, mysterious and yet so nurturing; the feminine gifts look and act nothing like the male energies that are prized today. These feminine gifts are so misunderstood, and yet so necessary to heal this world. The power of the feminine lies within an expansive holding, supporting and nurturing energy that is difficult to pin down; visualize the warm safety of mama’s lap; feel into the quiet stability of the earthy ground and you will be on the right track. Knowing the feminine is best done on a visceral and emotional level.
It takes a quieting of the mind and a wondering heart to grasp the gifts of the feminine energies. Watch a mother with her baby; sense her gentle nurturing and quiet loving presence. Or go outside and sit with Mother Nature; just sit and be still. Breathe, watch and listen to Nature. The wisdom of the feminine whispers in the ripples of the water and the gentle opening of a flower. It is there in the growing tree limbs that arch toward the sky and the roots that burrow into mother’s dirt. Our earth mother holds a quiet space of wisdom, always there beneath the surface of life. She is a mysterious, flowing and constant presence.
☾ ☽
The ground of mother whispers that it is time now to heal the feminine. The mother is quietly, yet insistently calling to us. She is demanding that we remember her gifts and honor her sacredness or perish. It is time to heal our relationship with the mother.
I have decided that it’s time to be the Queen of Me!
Seriously. I have been exploring the Celtic concept of being sovereign. This was a foreign idea to me until recently; something I had never even considered. But being sovereign in your own life is a key part of the Celtic belief system. And being of Scottish and Welsh descent, I tend to naturally resonate with all things Celtic. So, a few months ago, I began researching Celtic sovereignty. And I have been slowly teasing out what sovereignty means to me. And that’s how I became the Queen of Me. 🙂
My Celtic ancestors viewed Mother Earth herself to be the sovereign ruler of all of life; in ancient Ireland, mere mortal men were made kings only after they acknowledged and honored the sovereignty of the land. I completely agree with the idea of Mother Earth’s sovereignty; none of us would be alive on this planet were it not for the bounty of food, water and oxygen that our earthy mother provides. Mother Earth rules human life, whether we choose to acknowledge and honor her or not.
But what exactly do I mean by sovereignty? The dictionare defines it as:
Sovereignty n.
1. Supremacy of authority or rule as exercised by a sovereign or sovereign state. 2. Royal rank, authority, or power. 3. Complete independence and self-government. 4. A territory existing as an independent state.
Hmmm, yes to governing myself, yes to being independent and to holding royal rank, authority and power within myself. And the terms ‘state’ and ‘territory’ imply set boundaries to me, which every human is expected to honor and respect. Yes to honoring boundaries. A BIG Yes to sovereignty over my self and every part of my life.
When I dig further, I discover that ancient Celtic Shaman placed sovereignty at the center of the Celtic wheel of life. In many depictions of the Celtic wheel, the Tree of Life sits sovereign at the center or axis mundi of the circle. The Celtic Tree of Life holds the center, reaching limbs up and roots down to connect heaven with earth. And the tree spreads out horizontally from the center of it all, making connections with the 4 directions of north, east, south and west. I find it so beautiful and appropriate that my Celtic ancestors chose the tree to symbolize holding center and being sovereign.
A Celtic spirit wheel depicts the Celtic view of life in much the same way the Native North American medicine wheel depicts their view of life. When I look at one of these sacred wheels, or physically walk within one, I get a visceral sense of sovereignty; I understand in a deeper way how important it is for each of us to consciously own ourselves; to claim ownership of our bodies, our thoughts, our emotions, our actions and our beliefs as we live and interact in the world.
In their book, Goddesses Who Rule, Beverly Moon and Elisabeth Benard link the word “sovereign” to the Sanskrit word sva-raj, which means “self-rule”. Another meaning for raj is “luminous” or “radiance.” How fitting – embracing sovereignty is not just about ruling over one’s self but also allowing our inner luminous radiance to shine in the world. When we are sovereign, others are not allowed to control our fate. We empower ourselves. We give ourselves permission to shape ourselves and our fate and create the life we truly desire.
What would it look like if I were truly sovereign in my own life? Nelson Mandela comes to mind when I try to think of a person that embodies my idea of sovereignty. Nelson was never Celtic by any stretch of the imagination. But when I look back at his history, I see a man whose entire life revolved around being sovereign; he stayed true to himself and held on to his own knowing and dignity during decades of imprisonment. And after his release from prison, Nelson tirelessly championed the cause of the black people gaining sovereign rule in South Africa long after most men retire from public life.
Ultimately Nelson Mandela became an icon; a symbol of the transformation that is possible when a simple human being lives in the knowing of their true wisdom and worth. He held onto himself and his knowing, even when ridiculed and abused for his views. And he transformed his world. For me, Nelson embodies sovereignty in every sense of the word. As he, himself once put it…
“I am the captain of my Soul.” ~Nelson Mandela
I claim sovereignty over my Self. I choose to captain my Soul through this life in the quiet, eloquent way that Nelson Mandela embodied. I claim sovereignty. And I understand that just my intention of claiming sovereignty over my life changes everything. My journey shifts and deepens. This is another turn along my spiral path.
I take an early morning walk; it is already promising to be a hot day. But here by the St. Vrain river, it is still cool and juicy and green. The dog and I wander down the river trail and I begin to see seeds everywhere… Seeds dangle above me, below me, in front of me. Seeds on grass stalks, trees ripe with seed, every weed flowering and throwing off seeds in the wind. Every plant seems to be going to seed right before my eyes.
Seeds symbolize potential for me; each seed is a tiny, little pocket of possibility. From a biological perspective, seeds actually hold the blueprint for all of creation on planet earth. EVERY bit of life here starts with seed; seeds are the source of all the plants in the ocean and on land. And every animal on earth, including you and me, began from a tiny fertilized ovum seed.
After decades of gardening, I am still amazed each time I witness life forming from a seed; I plant tiny black seeds the size of pepper grains in my garden, and within weeks, tiny seedlings sprout and transform into big heads of yummy green lettuce. Nature orchestrates a miraculous transformation from seed potential to juicy plant reality in just a few short weeks.
“You couldn’t hardly believe there was life in them tiny things, some no bigger than grains of dust, let alone colour and scent, if you hadn’t seen the miracle, could you?” ~L.M. Montgomery, Anne’s House of Dreams
One tiny plant seed, combined with a little water and sunlight, will grow into a cottonwood tree or a clump of grass. Or maybe even an entire meadow full of blooms. The creative possibilities from one seed are staggering. Every single little seed holds magical possibilities. And Mother Nature is obviously a gifted magician.
I walk by the river, spying seeds at every turn. It is as though nature is teasing and taunting me with the abundant possibilities of life. The sight of seeds dangling from every tree, bush and grass stalk is so outrageously over the top that I cannot help but smile at all this abundance. And it is just the message I need today; I’ve been working on a book for months, struggling to create a structure that will hold the ideas that want to burst forth onto paper. But this particular piece of writing is as slippery and elusive as an eel, slithering away each time I think I’ve finally got it pinned down.
I have been trying to grab this elusive book and hold it still so I can define it, but it defies all my efforts at solid definition. This particular book creation seems to thrive on chaos and confusion. And the final shape of this book is not remotely in sight yet. I find that I am a bit fearful of not having any sense of where this book and I are going to end up. Like most writers and artists, I love to pretend that I am in control of my creative process – even when I know in my heart that I’m not! When I am honest with myself, I admit that my husband’s view of my writing being some type of mysterious, organic secretion process is actually more accurate!
But here, on the river path this morning, I look around and see how Nature is absolutely pouring her creative juices into a future that can’t yet be seen. Mother Nature doesn’t sit and whine about not being able to predict the final shape of her creative efforts; she doesn’t refuse to proceed with seed production until the future is defined and absolutely known. Mother Nature just creates. And keeps creating. I believe she creates just for the sheer joy of creating.
I look around at all of Mother Nature’s creations and I remember that creativity is more about allowing than controlling. My attempts at control usually end up killing my creative flow. Creativity LOVES freedom and unconfined spaces. And my own writing moves into a magical space when I stop worrying about the final outcome, and just open up and allow the flow of ideas, the flow of words to come out in whatever form they choose to take today. The final product will take care of itself if I can relax and breathe, and just follow today’s flow. Relax and allow the words to flow without trying to clamp down and judge them or filter them or manipulate them.
I breathe in the sights and scents of Mother Nature’s creative abundance. I breathe and feel myself relax. Like every seed on my path today, this elusive book knows what it wants to become, even if it won’t reveal itself to me yet. My job is to allow it to flow out into the light of day and to water it with my loving attention.
I wonder if I can relax and enjoy watching this book shift and grow from week to week? Can I embrace this little shape-shifter instead of fighting its process? I wonder if I can learn to revel in all the possibilities that this seed of a book contains?
“It is a denial of the divinity within us to doubt our potential and our possibilities.” ~Faust
“The way we see the world shapes the way we treat it. If a mountain is a deity, not a pile of ore; if a river is one of the veins of the land, not potential irrigation water; if a forest is a sacred grove, not timber; if other species are biological kin, not resources; or if the planet is our mother, not an opportunity – then we will treat each other with greater respect. Thus is the challenge, to look at the world from a different perspective.”
~David Suzuki
☾ ☽
I climbed up Buffalo Ridge yesterday. I nicknamed this ridge that shelters our home to the southeast Buffalo Ridge months ago – it just has the energy of buffalo roaming free for me. Well, yesterday I climbed to the top of Buffalo Ridge. And now, as I stare out my window at that ridge, it looks completely different to me. Maybe it’s because I’ve been talking about climbing this ridge for 2 years and I FINALLY did it! Yes, that’s part of the change.
But my internal shift involves more than just accomplishing something that I set out to do; Buffalo Ridge is now known to me in a completely different way. I have an intimate relationship with this ridge now; I look at Buffalo Ridge and see the rocks I scrambled over to reach the very top. And I see the circle of old pines that I sat beneath and rested. I remember startling the deer that were bedded down on its slope in the heat of mid-day. And I remember all the cactus just on the verge of blooming as well as the little white flowers already in full bloom.
Buffalo Ridge Flowers
Today I look out the window and I don’t see a ridge that I climbed. Instead I see an ally that watches over my home and neighborhood. I see a friend who shared some beautiful secrets with me. I am connected to Buffalo Ridge in a new way, and it will never again look like ‘just a hill’ to me!
