Wednesday, June 20, 2012
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
Farewell, Adrienne!
(My computer died on me before I finished this blog post originally, but I feel I still need to post).
I just learned that on March 27th, one of the most incredible poets died: Adrienne Rich. I can't claim to have studied/read all of her poems, or even a large part. I also cannot say I ever read her prose. However, the few poems of hers I have read, have made quite an impression. Much love to her, and may her transition into the next world be smooth and easy, and may her family and loved ones know surcease of sorrow.
Aloha, Adrienne!
Here is a poem of hers, that I think you will enjoy:
"Stepping Backward"
Good-by to you whom I shall see tomorrow,
Next year and when I'm fifty; still good-by.
This is the leave we never really take.
If you were dead or gone to live in China
The event might draw your stature in my mind.
I should be forced to look upon you whole
The way we look upon the things we lose.
We see each other daily and in segments;
Parting might make us meet anew, entire.
You asked me once, and I could give no answer,
How far dare we throw off the daily ruse,
Official treacheries of face and name,
Have out our true identity? I could hazard
An answer now, if you are asking still.
We are a small and lonely human race
Showing no sign of mastering solitude
Out on this stony planet that we farm.
The most that we can do for one another
Is let our blunders and our blind mischances
Argue a certain brusque abrupt compassion.
We might as well be truthful. I should say
They're luckiest who know they're not unique;
But only art or common interchange
Can teach that kindest truth. And even art
Can only hint at what disturbed a Melville
Or calmed a Mahler's frenzy; you and I
Still look from separate windows every morning
Upon the same white daylight in the square.
And when we come into each other's rooms
Once in awhile, encumbered and self-conscious,
We hover awkwardly about the threshold
And usually regret the visit later.
Perhaps the harshest fact is, only lovers--
And once in a while two with the grace of lovers--
Unlearn that clumsiness of rare intrusion
And let each other freely come and go.
Most of us shut too quickly into cupboards
The margin-scribbled books, the dried geranium,
The penny horoscope, letters never mailed.
The door may open, but the room is altered;
Not the same room we look from night and day.
It takes a late and slowly blooming wisdom
To learn that those we marked infallible
Are tragi-comic stumblers like ourselves.
The knowledge breeds reserve. We walk on tiptoe,
Demanding more than we know how to render.
Two-edged discovery hunts us finally down;
The human act will make us real again,
And then perhaps we come to know each other.
Let us return to imperfection's school.
No longer wandering after Plato's ghost,
Seeking the garden where all fruit is flawless,
We must at last renounce that ultimate blue
And take a walk in other kinds of weather.
The sourest apple makes its wry announcement
That imperfection has a certain tang.
Maybe we shouldn't turn our pockets out
To the last crumb or lingering bit of fluff,
But all we can confess of what we are
Has in it the defeat of isolation--
If not our own, then someone's, anyway.
So I come back to saying this good-by,
A sort of ceremony of my own,
This stepping backward for another glance.
Perhaps you'll say we need no ceremony,
Because we know each other, crack and flaw,
Like two irregular stones that fit together.
Yet still good-by, because we live by inches
And only sometimes see the full dimension.
Your stature's one I want to memorize--
Your whole level of being, to impose
On any other comers, man or woman.
I'd ask them that they carry what they are
With your particular bearing, as you wear
The flaws that make you both yourself and human.
Poet Rosemary Nissen Wade featured a poem by Adrienne today, for her post at Poets United. There are several more links to other memorial posts as well.
Poetry is one of the universal unifiers of humanity... And Ms. Rich was adept at using this form to speak out on behalf of women everywhere....
She will be missed!
I just learned that on March 27th, one of the most incredible poets died: Adrienne Rich. I can't claim to have studied/read all of her poems, or even a large part. I also cannot say I ever read her prose. However, the few poems of hers I have read, have made quite an impression. Much love to her, and may her transition into the next world be smooth and easy, and may her family and loved ones know surcease of sorrow.
Aloha, Adrienne!
Here is a poem of hers, that I think you will enjoy:
"Stepping Backward"
Good-by to you whom I shall see tomorrow,
Next year and when I'm fifty; still good-by.
This is the leave we never really take.
If you were dead or gone to live in China
The event might draw your stature in my mind.
I should be forced to look upon you whole
The way we look upon the things we lose.
We see each other daily and in segments;
Parting might make us meet anew, entire.
You asked me once, and I could give no answer,
How far dare we throw off the daily ruse,
Official treacheries of face and name,
Have out our true identity? I could hazard
An answer now, if you are asking still.
We are a small and lonely human race
Showing no sign of mastering solitude
Out on this stony planet that we farm.
The most that we can do for one another
Is let our blunders and our blind mischances
Argue a certain brusque abrupt compassion.
We might as well be truthful. I should say
They're luckiest who know they're not unique;
But only art or common interchange
Can teach that kindest truth. And even art
Can only hint at what disturbed a Melville
Or calmed a Mahler's frenzy; you and I
Still look from separate windows every morning
Upon the same white daylight in the square.
And when we come into each other's rooms
Once in awhile, encumbered and self-conscious,
We hover awkwardly about the threshold
And usually regret the visit later.
Perhaps the harshest fact is, only lovers--
And once in a while two with the grace of lovers--
Unlearn that clumsiness of rare intrusion
And let each other freely come and go.
Most of us shut too quickly into cupboards
The margin-scribbled books, the dried geranium,
The penny horoscope, letters never mailed.
The door may open, but the room is altered;
Not the same room we look from night and day.
It takes a late and slowly blooming wisdom
To learn that those we marked infallible
Are tragi-comic stumblers like ourselves.
The knowledge breeds reserve. We walk on tiptoe,
Demanding more than we know how to render.
Two-edged discovery hunts us finally down;
The human act will make us real again,
And then perhaps we come to know each other.
Let us return to imperfection's school.
No longer wandering after Plato's ghost,
Seeking the garden where all fruit is flawless,
We must at last renounce that ultimate blue
And take a walk in other kinds of weather.
The sourest apple makes its wry announcement
That imperfection has a certain tang.
Maybe we shouldn't turn our pockets out
To the last crumb or lingering bit of fluff,
But all we can confess of what we are
Has in it the defeat of isolation--
If not our own, then someone's, anyway.
So I come back to saying this good-by,
A sort of ceremony of my own,
This stepping backward for another glance.
Perhaps you'll say we need no ceremony,
Because we know each other, crack and flaw,
Like two irregular stones that fit together.
Yet still good-by, because we live by inches
And only sometimes see the full dimension.
Your stature's one I want to memorize--
Your whole level of being, to impose
On any other comers, man or woman.
I'd ask them that they carry what they are
With your particular bearing, as you wear
The flaws that make you both yourself and human.
Poet Rosemary Nissen Wade featured a poem by Adrienne today, for her post at Poets United. There are several more links to other memorial posts as well.
Poetry is one of the universal unifiers of humanity... And Ms. Rich was adept at using this form to speak out on behalf of women everywhere....
She will be missed!
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Sing, Drum, Dance Around Your Living Room!! Praise and Thankfulness for a New Day. :)
I had started a blog in October, just about happy music... I'll go ahead and publish as is, because, well, who doesn't need a happy??? :-P Enjoy!!
Post:
Listening to Ubaka Hill's, "Spiral Dance", this morning. If it doesn't at least wake you up, and get you to swayin' in your seat, you're probably a zombie. Hell, a zombie might even get happy listening to this. :P
"We remember how to uncoil our power, and to dance the spiral dance."
And isn't that what it's all about? Being joyful, being grateful, just to be ALIVE, to breath, move love eat sleep rejoice in our skin? To be one with all around us?
Dance the spiral dance, my dears, around your couch or living room table, in the kitchen, outside, wherever you may be... Enjoy one another, and above all, enjoy life!
Post:
Listening to Ubaka Hill's, "Spiral Dance", this morning. If it doesn't at least wake you up, and get you to swayin' in your seat, you're probably a zombie. Hell, a zombie might even get happy listening to this. :P
"We remember how to uncoil our power, and to dance the spiral dance."
And isn't that what it's all about? Being joyful, being grateful, just to be ALIVE, to breath, move love eat sleep rejoice in our skin? To be one with all around us?
Dance the spiral dance, my dears, around your couch or living room table, in the kitchen, outside, wherever you may be... Enjoy one another, and above all, enjoy life!
A Blast from the Past
This is where I was at last summer... It is a blog I wrote for The Pagan Mom Blog about Pan, my patron deity... I've been in a funked up, screwed up mess of a mood the last number of months... I feel like I'm always on the verge of something... I have to deal with severe agoraphobia and at times crippling anxiety and depression. I thought I was managing, but I've been slipping. Recently, I've been making a comeback against the depression, though I am still battling that demon daily.
I wanted to share this post again, because, well, I felt I needed to. I need a fresh start: we all do, regularly, daily, all the time! Sloughing off the emotional scars I have is hard, but can be done.
Here is what I wrote, and I hope you enjoy!
The Blog:
I have sat, stumped, at how to write this blog for the last two weeks. Do I go the historical route, citing myths and sources? Do I try to examine the varying ways other people view Pan? How do I pay due tribute, and give the utmost respect for my patron? Well, after much waffling around, and a start of a blog that went a completely different direction, I am back to: myself.
So, this blog will be concerning my own vision of Pan. I have memory problems connected with sleep apnea, so the best way I’ve discovered to learn about Pan, and any other deity, is to research some, and work with them directly, usually by meditating, painting, etc. Getting it “straight from the source”, as a friend of mine has said.
Recently, I discovered this is known as a “UPG”, or “Unverified Personal Gnosis”. Either way, full steam ahead!
Who is Pan? No, not bread, though I do love me some good bread (“pan” is bread in Japanese). Pan is God of the fields, forests, of all wild creatures. He is also God of goats, sheep, tortoises, bees and bee keeping. He is joyful, happy, loves music and merriment (as he is a God of music, as well). Pan is a lusty god, reveling in food, sex, wine and song. He is also known as a god of theatrical inspiration. He is wise, as the image of the Old Man of the Woods, and bold/carefree, as in the image of a young satyr, frolicking in a woodland glen. His faces and nature change, as does the rest of nature; with the turning of the wheel, his influence waxes and wanes. He is most keenly felt in the spring and summer. To those of us who worship him, however, he can be felt the year-round. He is of this earth, and does not distance himself, as his essence is in all creation.
Pan is also very protective of those whom he claims as His own. You think it odd that a god would claim a follower? Why not? I never knew, until He decided that it was time to make his presence known last year, that he has been there for me, all of my life.
“Last summer?”, you say? Yes: I was designing a small open group meeting about the Green Man and the Horned God. And literally, all I could think about was Pan. You see, when I need to know something spiritually, I obsess over it. I know that now, at any rate. Last year, I had no clue why I was obsessing SO MUCH about a god that had always terrified me. I’d been raised a staunchly conservative Christian, you see, and for some reason, every time I saw an image of a satyr (even before I knew what that half-man/half-goat creature was), I was scared. I saw the Devil. Even after learning of Pan, in my late teens, I still ran from him. And upon learning of the Horned God in Wicca, I still had to separate Pan. I could only see Cernunnos or Herne.
Let me give you some examples of my “running”: In South Mountain State Park, a number of years ago, my brother and lost track of time, and started to head back to the car (which took us a good hour and a half or so) close to twilight. The further we went down, the darker it got, and the more I could feel the trees all around me. I felt disapproval, and I chalked that up to us being where we weren’t supposed to be. (Yes, to some that may sound crazy. Have you ever been in the deep woods after dark?? Have you ever felt all those presences around you?) At a certain point, we had to stop, and I was already starting to panic. I could feel something else, other than animal, other than plant. My mind heard, “Pan.” I don’t remember if I told my brother that, though I want to say I did. Even though I knew I was safe, I was still wigging out, and hurried onward, shoving the memory down inside.
In Latin classes, I would stare at images of satyrs, get creeped out, and look again. My fascination with goats, and satyrs would carry on through my life, though always with that fear attached. I would see images of Baphomet, and the Boogey-man, and get scared. Even after a number of years, I realized I was only afraid of Satan because of the ingrained predisposition to fear anything with hooves and horns. Why the fascination, all these years? Why?
Goddess knows, I have had a roller-coaster ride when it comes to the Horned God. I researched, and read, and learned. And so, upon that journey, I would discover what a patron deity was. And could never find one, or allow one to find me.
Until last Summer. My secret love, my Lord Pan, my God Pan, goat-footed, sure-footed Pan, came to me. I finally began to research more, to read more, to learn more, and even in my fear (which started to relax), I came to understand.
During a small class, I led an intuitive meditation on the Horned God, and the Green Man. I only had a loose idea of how it would go. I saw a bounding deer, and I followed. I was led to a clearing, where a mighty Oak stood, and where Holly ringed the edges. And still, I journeyed on. I came to a field, a gloriously golden wheat field. As I got closer, I could see a satyr cavorting, playing his pipes. Finally, there he stood, Pan, in all of his splendour. And my head was filled with image of Him, curving ram’s horns, shaggy hair and all, until I could barely breathe. It was intoxicating. And I heard the words of the poet, ascribed to Plutarch, “The Great God Pan is Dead!” And I said aloud, knowing it to my very bones, “Pan is NOT dead. He has never *been* dead. He will never *be* dead.” That’s as much as I remember. But I can tell you this, it was a defining moment for me.
A few weeks later, sitting in front of a new friend, in a little cubby-hole of an office, I had an epiphany. I said aloud, “Well, now I have accepted Pan as my Patron.” And, after weeks of obsession, I felt laughter, and snark and pride, and Pan was happy. His presence moved away for a few weeks, to give me some time to think. Also, to cap off the afore-mentioned night, I recieved a gift, a copy of my favorite painting of Pan. It is a painting titled “The Faun”, by Carlos Schwabe (1923). And this person did not even know I had just accepted Pan as my patron. Talk about synchronicity!!
So, this brings me to now. I have been needing to write about my patrons for a long time. I have been avoiding that, as I have been afraid I would misrepresent them, or even under-represent them. When the opportunity came for me to be a guest blogger, I jumped on it. And promptly developed writer’s block. Due to my own anxiety issues, yes, but since I have limited information in book form, and have had to rely on a lot of internet sources, I didn’t want to appear as if I did not *know* him.
He is a Greek god, yes, but so much more. His roots lie shrouded in time, and I have been finding traces of him (through research) in Egypt and India, among other places. The names are different, but the essence is the same. I also keep finding odd things in common, between Pan and Brighid, such as the bee and water associations. I still have so much to learn, believe me!
With all that said, He means much more to me than anyone could ever know. I hope I have done him justice by giving you a small picture of what Pan means to me, and have not been too terribly disjointed.
Be sure to check out the links below, which have listed some great books on Pan, to jump-start your own research!
IO PAN!!
Blessings of Pan and Brighid to you,
April, aka Sora
Helpful Links:
An in-depth article on Pan
Online text of the Homeric Hymn to Pan
Wikipedia entry on Pan (look at the reading material)
"The Faun", by Carlos Schwabe
Also, here is an awesome song:
I love this song by Blood Ceremony... Entitled "The Great God Pan", it was not in my original blog post, but it is wonderful to rock out to.
Many blessings of Pan and Brighid, God and Goddess in whatever form you need, be with you at all times...
I wanted to share this post again, because, well, I felt I needed to. I need a fresh start: we all do, regularly, daily, all the time! Sloughing off the emotional scars I have is hard, but can be done.
Here is what I wrote, and I hope you enjoy!
The Blog:
I have sat, stumped, at how to write this blog for the last two weeks. Do I go the historical route, citing myths and sources? Do I try to examine the varying ways other people view Pan? How do I pay due tribute, and give the utmost respect for my patron? Well, after much waffling around, and a start of a blog that went a completely different direction, I am back to: myself.
So, this blog will be concerning my own vision of Pan. I have memory problems connected with sleep apnea, so the best way I’ve discovered to learn about Pan, and any other deity, is to research some, and work with them directly, usually by meditating, painting, etc. Getting it “straight from the source”, as a friend of mine has said.
Recently, I discovered this is known as a “UPG”, or “Unverified Personal Gnosis”. Either way, full steam ahead! Who is Pan? No, not bread, though I do love me some good bread (“pan” is bread in Japanese). Pan is God of the fields, forests, of all wild creatures. He is also God of goats, sheep, tortoises, bees and bee keeping. He is joyful, happy, loves music and merriment (as he is a God of music, as well). Pan is a lusty god, reveling in food, sex, wine and song. He is also known as a god of theatrical inspiration. He is wise, as the image of the Old Man of the Woods, and bold/carefree, as in the image of a young satyr, frolicking in a woodland glen. His faces and nature change, as does the rest of nature; with the turning of the wheel, his influence waxes and wanes. He is most keenly felt in the spring and summer. To those of us who worship him, however, he can be felt the year-round. He is of this earth, and does not distance himself, as his essence is in all creation.
Pan is also very protective of those whom he claims as His own. You think it odd that a god would claim a follower? Why not? I never knew, until He decided that it was time to make his presence known last year, that he has been there for me, all of my life.
“Last summer?”, you say? Yes: I was designing a small open group meeting about the Green Man and the Horned God. And literally, all I could think about was Pan. You see, when I need to know something spiritually, I obsess over it. I know that now, at any rate. Last year, I had no clue why I was obsessing SO MUCH about a god that had always terrified me. I’d been raised a staunchly conservative Christian, you see, and for some reason, every time I saw an image of a satyr (even before I knew what that half-man/half-goat creature was), I was scared. I saw the Devil. Even after learning of Pan, in my late teens, I still ran from him. And upon learning of the Horned God in Wicca, I still had to separate Pan. I could only see Cernunnos or Herne.
Let me give you some examples of my “running”: In South Mountain State Park, a number of years ago, my brother and lost track of time, and started to head back to the car (which took us a good hour and a half or so) close to twilight. The further we went down, the darker it got, and the more I could feel the trees all around me. I felt disapproval, and I chalked that up to us being where we weren’t supposed to be. (Yes, to some that may sound crazy. Have you ever been in the deep woods after dark?? Have you ever felt all those presences around you?) At a certain point, we had to stop, and I was already starting to panic. I could feel something else, other than animal, other than plant. My mind heard, “Pan.” I don’t remember if I told my brother that, though I want to say I did. Even though I knew I was safe, I was still wigging out, and hurried onward, shoving the memory down inside.
In Latin classes, I would stare at images of satyrs, get creeped out, and look again. My fascination with goats, and satyrs would carry on through my life, though always with that fear attached. I would see images of Baphomet, and the Boogey-man, and get scared. Even after a number of years, I realized I was only afraid of Satan because of the ingrained predisposition to fear anything with hooves and horns. Why the fascination, all these years? Why?
Goddess knows, I have had a roller-coaster ride when it comes to the Horned God. I researched, and read, and learned. And so, upon that journey, I would discover what a patron deity was. And could never find one, or allow one to find me.
Until last Summer. My secret love, my Lord Pan, my God Pan, goat-footed, sure-footed Pan, came to me. I finally began to research more, to read more, to learn more, and even in my fear (which started to relax), I came to understand.
During a small class, I led an intuitive meditation on the Horned God, and the Green Man. I only had a loose idea of how it would go. I saw a bounding deer, and I followed. I was led to a clearing, where a mighty Oak stood, and where Holly ringed the edges. And still, I journeyed on. I came to a field, a gloriously golden wheat field. As I got closer, I could see a satyr cavorting, playing his pipes. Finally, there he stood, Pan, in all of his splendour. And my head was filled with image of Him, curving ram’s horns, shaggy hair and all, until I could barely breathe. It was intoxicating. And I heard the words of the poet, ascribed to Plutarch, “The Great God Pan is Dead!” And I said aloud, knowing it to my very bones, “Pan is NOT dead. He has never *been* dead. He will never *be* dead.” That’s as much as I remember. But I can tell you this, it was a defining moment for me.
A few weeks later, sitting in front of a new friend, in a little cubby-hole of an office, I had an epiphany. I said aloud, “Well, now I have accepted Pan as my Patron.” And, after weeks of obsession, I felt laughter, and snark and pride, and Pan was happy. His presence moved away for a few weeks, to give me some time to think. Also, to cap off the afore-mentioned night, I recieved a gift, a copy of my favorite painting of Pan. It is a painting titled “The Faun”, by Carlos Schwabe (1923). And this person did not even know I had just accepted Pan as my patron. Talk about synchronicity!!
So, this brings me to now. I have been needing to write about my patrons for a long time. I have been avoiding that, as I have been afraid I would misrepresent them, or even under-represent them. When the opportunity came for me to be a guest blogger, I jumped on it. And promptly developed writer’s block. Due to my own anxiety issues, yes, but since I have limited information in book form, and have had to rely on a lot of internet sources, I didn’t want to appear as if I did not *know* him.
He is a Greek god, yes, but so much more. His roots lie shrouded in time, and I have been finding traces of him (through research) in Egypt and India, among other places. The names are different, but the essence is the same. I also keep finding odd things in common, between Pan and Brighid, such as the bee and water associations. I still have so much to learn, believe me!
With all that said, He means much more to me than anyone could ever know. I hope I have done him justice by giving you a small picture of what Pan means to me, and have not been too terribly disjointed.
Be sure to check out the links below, which have listed some great books on Pan, to jump-start your own research!
IO PAN!!
Blessings of Pan and Brighid to you,
April, aka Sora
Helpful Links:
An in-depth article on Pan
Online text of the Homeric Hymn to Pan
Wikipedia entry on Pan (look at the reading material)
"The Faun", by Carlos Schwabe
Also, here is an awesome song:
I love this song by Blood Ceremony... Entitled "The Great God Pan", it was not in my original blog post, but it is wonderful to rock out to.
Many blessings of Pan and Brighid, God and Goddess in whatever form you need, be with you at all times...
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