Category: Women’s Mysteries

New Moon: She takes up pen, again.

It’s been a million days of this I think, and as I write such words I see the gray slant of my ceiling in the morning, the days leading up to, but especially following,  Aunt Mary’s death.  Grief, which sits like a bone in the air. Its smooth, cold, calcium-yearning.  Always there, blocking the place…

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The Women’s Work

Two Thursday’s ago, in the low, monastic candle-lit room here in the hobbit house in the canyon wall, I prepared wordlessly for an important initiation. Not that of an ancient rite or mysterious sect.  To all appearances, in fact, it was little more than a scholastic necessity.  I prepared to drive to Santa Barbara, to…

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Big ol magic moon: Lunar Beltane in the hills

That big ol silly moon, just a stand out in the sky like someone shot a paint ball up there and smack-landed it on the flat east canvas, a perfect white slab.  She was staring at me while the sun was still out.  A smile I couldn’t reach or run from, just had to laugh…

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Cycles of creativity

Thanks for this, Andrea! As a woman, cyclical knowing is our cherished knowing: the phases of living, that include, as the moon, a wane or dying, though not to entirety but on a continuum: that we grow new again. Like spirals, on and on. I am thinking the most lately about the soul life, the…

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My second half. Suddenly I am different.

My second half started yesterday–the reflective part of my cycle, post-ovulation. It is amazing–suddenly I am different woman, unknown to myself or at least in context of the “committed to her work and firey with creative projects rebel grl” of the past several weeks. Today me, she just wants depth.  She has neeeeds.  Clings to,…

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