Saturday, June 26, 2010

The Goddess Within Nature

She could be described in many ways. Some would describe her as matured and wise, innocent yet devious, kind and giving. No matter how she would be described, her stunning looks couldn’t be denied. Long curling light auburn locks, bright green eyes, skin as pure as snow, ample chest, slim waist, curvaceous hips. She was the perfect model of what all in nature is supposed to be, perfect beauty. Yet if u asked her, she would say she was nothing special, just ordinary, and nothing exceptional. Even her modesty was part of her attractiveness.

She lived in a simple cottage, nothing out of the ordinary, except for where it was located. She had strategically placed it in the center of a wooded area. There was a river that ran through the extensive back yard of the house, just a short walk, where she drew her water. No fences, no gates. Nature provided all she needed; it just took a little more work to get it. Though she felt hard work kept her strong and healthy. And in fact, she was very healthy even though she was still young at twenty-four.

There was a song on her lips, as she would gather her day’s supplies. If she would turn around, she would notice the sweet woodland creatures trailing behind her as if they were tame pets. Sometimes she would put a little skip to her step, just to have them misstep, then giggle at them. When she had gathered the water, food and firewood for the day, she would return home to prepare a light lunch.

Normally lunch consisted of a nice salad, which she would share with the rabbits and squirrels. The animals adored her and would help gather berries and nuts for her and leave them in a basket she kept on the porch. Nearly every morning when she would go outside, it would be almost all that she needed for that day. As for meat, the wolves and pumas would share with her, bringing a share for her. She so loved to reward them for their help. She did build a very strong bond with all the creatures.

After lunch, she would walk down to the river. As her toes would touch the water, she would already begin to feel revived. She would walk into the center, and lie down, letting the currents twirl her. The strong currents swirling around her, she would feel alive, reborn, at one with nature, at peace. With arms raised above her head, the fish would rub against her body, the snakes curling around her, their scales cleansing her. She loved bathing in the river. She always felt so fresh and in a way, holy, sacred.

When finished bathing, usually a couple of hours, she would lie on the warm rocks of the bank and absorb the sun’s precious rays. Feeling her skin being warmed, the soft, gentle breeze cooling her soft, supple flesh. She would be smiling, listening the birds singing and dancing in the sky, just for her. The butterflies would come, landing on her, tickling her with their tiny feet and their fluttering wings. All around her the animals were bathing themselves as well and basking in the sun. Most times she would fall asleep. Awaking to find the forest creatures awaking with her. It was if they were all joined, all one.

She would sit up after she awoke, stretching, smiling, and so blissful. On her walk back to her log cottage, she would play with all the creatures. She loved them very much and loved to be with them always. She had no need for clothing or shoes and the feel of the forest floor under her feet seemed to energize her. She could not imagine having to wear confining clothes, constricting her. In fact, she only owned two simple dresses and one pair of shoes for going into the village.

She was so happy with her life, seldom knowing a “bad” day. The only time she would be saddened would be when one of her beloved would become injured. Should that happen, she would take care of them and heal them as if they were one of her own children. They would never harm even each other. They would go outside her forested territory, should they need to hunt.

Walking inside her cottage she would feel proud with how well she was able to make everything in it. How she seldom had to go to the neighboring village to buy anything. If something from town were needed, the townsfolk would normally trade some of her wares for whatever she needed. Otherwise she would trade using some of her knowledge of crafting nearly anything out of that, which was already on-hand. She had no need or want for money whatsoever.

One day when coming back from getting some wax for candles, she was singing a tune and thought she heard something. She stopped singing and turned an ear to listen. It was weak, barely audible moaning. She asked her favorite puma, who she called Queen, to go see what was hurt. Queen came back a short time later and motioned for her to come quickly.

She ran quickly behind Queen, running through the forest, branches scraping her body, leaving little cuts. When she arrived to where Queen had led her, she saw a young man lying on a bed of pine needles, moaning, barely able to move. Quickly she bent down to touch his face. He was fevered and sweating. She asked Queen, by thought as always, to run home and bring her the blanket off her bed. She sat and scooped the man into her lap and arms, using her dress to wipe the sweat from his face and asked him “What is your name?” No response, only a soft moan. She thought “poor little thing” and began singing to him, comforting him.

Queen returned with the blanket and helped the woman lay it out and place him on top of it. She called for the wolves. She asked two of the strongest young males to help her pull the young man back to the cottage. They came over and grabbed a corner of the blanket in their strong jaws, she grabbed the center of the top of the blanket and they dragged it, as smoothly as possible, home. They helped her get him on the bed then sat in the doorway watching her get water and wipe his face and remove his clothes, covering him with a very light blanket.

He looked as if he couldn’t have been over twenty-two or twenty-three years of age. His skin was pale in color. He wasn’t from around here. She wondered if he even spoke her language. He had dark green eyes, reddish blonde hair, perfectly shaped and blushed lips. His jaw was perfectly chiseled and his body frame, though slight, was muscular. She bathed him with a cloth and bowl of water then left him to sleep while she went to gather some herbs.

The young man was just coming into consciousness as she returned home. She put some water over the fire to boil for tea and went to his side. She said “Hello. How are you feeling?” He looked up at her and reached for her hand, which she moved closer to his. He mumbled with great effort. But, she couldn’t understand him and said, “Shh, rest now, I’m making you some tea, save your strength.” He looked as if he couldn’t understand her either and tried to sit up. She laid her hand on his chest, motioning for him to lie still. He lay back down and she got up to put the herbs in a copper cup and poured the water over them, letting them steep and cool for a few minutes.

She took the tea and helped him to sit up, placed it to his lips and helped him to sip it. He choked at first at the taste then took bigger sips. She was humming to him keeping him calm as he finished it. He lay back down and gave her a smile and a blink in thanks. He tried to speak again but she still couldn’t understand him. She thought to herself, “This isn’t going to work.” She wondered if he could read her thoughts and said to him through thought, “ Just stay calm and sleep. Do not worry about anything, I’ll take care of you.” “My name is Flidais. Can you understand and hear me?” She did hear his reply. “Yes I can hear and understand you. I wish to thank you for finding me and caring for me.” “My name is Adammair.” She told him to rest and he closed his eyes and once again dozed off.

She got her supplies of sage, burning bowl and feather fan. Placed the sage in the bowl and placed a small ember in the bowl, fanning till it began to smoke. She fanned the smoke over him with her hand going in an outward motion. Speaking in thought, as she would always do, “Go from here, never to return! Illness and negativity release from his body!” She did this all aver his body until the sage was finished. Then she placed her hand on his chest, closed her eyes, raised her face to the heavens, lifting the free arm upwards and said “Heal!” She felt the fever coursing through her body and out her raised fingertips into the air. She continued till she felt no more illness coursing through her.

Flidais went outside to rest on the porch with the creatures encircling her. They told her to come lay down and rest, she must replenish herself with goodness, which she did, with them lying against and around her. She felt the power drawing into her from the earth and the animals and fell fast asleep.

After a couple of hours Flidais awoke. She felt a bit weakened still and began to meditate, drawing the powers of the universe into herself. When she felt strengthened once again, she slowly stood and went into the house. It was dark, as it was coming upon nighttime. Lit candles and put the cauldron over the fire to begin to prepare a hearty rabbit stew. She checked on Adammair. He was still resting peacefully and a bit warm to the touch. She moistened a cloth, folded it, and placed it over his forehead.

She gathered the vegetables for the stew, put on a kettle for tea, and began chopping them, then the meat. She put them in the hot water of the cauldron and stirred before going to Adammair’s side. She wiped the sweat from him body, and he began to stir. Flidais hummed for him, a sweet song. Helped him to sit up as he drank and told him dinner would be done shortly asking him if he felt he could eat anything. He told her he could and she thought “This is good, he will be better in no time at all.”

She sat at his side, humming to him, till it was time to check the stew to see if it was done. She rose and he reached for her. “Don’t go!” “I am going nowhere, dear” she replied. Checked the stew then filled two clay bowls. She took it to him feeding him with her own carved spoon. He ate the entire bowl and waited for her to eat. He noticed how delicately she acted, even while eating, taking each bite as if she was kissing the spoon.

She noticed he was grinning at her and asked him “what? Did I do something?” “Other than looking as if you are an angel, no.” She laughed and told him she thought he must still be fevered, as his mind was not working properly. To this they both laughed and she sensed he was feeling much better now. She got some more stew and fed him, to which he ate that entire bowl as well. She was very pleased. He thought it was the best meal he had ever eaten.

After they were finished, she placed the dishes to the side to wash in the morning and pulled a chair beside the bed. As soon as she sat, he reached for her hand. He felt a very close connection to her and felt as if goodness was streaming from her to him at the very touch. She felt a connection with him as well, though she didn’t know how to define it. They sat just looking at each other for a lengthy time, enjoying each others' company.

After quite some time he began to tell her how he came to be where she had found him. He spoke of a land far away. Of beautifully lush, rolling hills. Of an island with many crops and simple, kind people. Of how they were very proud people and practitioners of druidry and majick. It sounded like such a wondrous place. Flidais could feel the excitement and love he had for this land of his.

He told her how the Tuastha De Danann (peoples of the goddess Danu) had come to his land in a mist after being banished from the heavens for their great knowledge. How they were a race of deities and heroes, how their skills of art, science, poetry and majick, were revered all over his beautiful Ireland. Adammair, though excited, was becoming tired. Flidais grinned as he yawned. She said to him “You as if you are an innocent babe. Now close your eyes and rest like one”. With this, he did fall quickly asleep.

Flidais walked outside and called the forest creatures to come with her. She did feel a bit tired so called a stag to allow her to ride him as they went for a stroll through the forest, looking to make sure all was well. After her tiring day, she also needed the peace and serenity. After about an hour, she began to nod off, the relaxing sway of the stag’s saunter lulling her to sleep. He turned and headed for her cottage.

It was early morning hours when they got back, and she laid down for sleep.
She dreamt of the things he had spoken of, of great heroes, and great majick,
of rolling hills and great peoples. She dreamt of kings and cattle., cattle that could feed hundreds in a single milking. OF fine, strong warriors and scholars.
The vision, unbeknownst to her, was her future.

Morning came all to soon and she checked on Adammair then began her morning routine. When she returned, he was just waking. They said their good mornings to each other and she prepared him something to eat. After breakfast he asked her if there were somewhere he could bathe and she told him of the river and they planned to go after resting a bit.

She called for the stag once again and led him into the cottage. The stag kneeled and she helped Adammair onto his back, then he stood and they went for the short jaunt to the river. When the stag walked into the water, he easily slid off the back and Flidais asked if he needed any help. He told her no and she lay down on the rocks to sun herself while he washed.

Heaven?

This is something that i came across that I had written it when i was about 11, I think. Interesting to see how your views change...
Heaven, the perfect place. If we spend out time being good Christians, we go there in the end, or so they say. Lately, I've questioned that statement quite a bit. If you stop to think about heaven and what you've been taught about it, then some vey interesting questions come to light.

For instance, is heaven a perfect place? For the most part, people say yes. So, if heaven is a perfect place, then it surely has a perfect ruler to keep it prefect, right? So then, is God perfect? Again, some would say yes. Then ask yourself this question, Is god male or female? If you say yes, then God is imperfect, as that discriminates against females. If you say God is female, then God is still imperfect as that discriminates against males. So, lest say, for the sake of argument, that God is neither, but in fact, both yet neither.

Now, how about another question? Is God good or evil? To say he is good and only good, would be discriminating against evil, and again have an imperfect God. If you say he is evil(of course no one i know of would), then you have a discrimination against good, which again, causes an imperfect god.

You're probably wondering what my point is.My point is, that for God to be perfect, then God has to have been, at one time, the best being ever, to have been lived at a nother time, to have been the world, the universe, the realms. But also the most vile and evil being to have ever been. But that isnt' it. God would also have to have been male and female, dog and cat, deer and hunter. So for a being to be perfect it has to experienced every single possible situation, human and non-human.
Now to my main point. Is heaven a perfect place? If heaven is the way most people believe it to be, then it's not. For, being a good christian all your life, just doesn't cut it. If everyone who was a good christian went to heaven, there would be chaos, because everyone would be good matured, but no one would know why. Sooner or later, all jell woudl break loose because of the poor souls lack of knowledge when it comes to why good is good and bad is bad.
God knows why good is good and bad is bad, and not because someone told him, but because he has been there in every imaginable situation. To just tell someone that something is good because of this or something is bad because of that, just doesn't cut it. So, for a soul to get to heaven, then it must be perfect and to be perfect the soul would know why good is good and bad is bad.
For all you God fearing Christians, don't sweat it, for God has it all worked out for the better. For just one moment, put all your religous prejudices aside, and think about the following...All time is a constant and all time happens simultaneously. You are born and die in the same instant, yet it takes forever, all in the same moment.
Just imagine for one second, that when you are born, your soul is nothing but a little dot in the middle of a massive circle. At the moment of your birth, your soul breaks into an infinite number of lines taht all lead to the outer edge of the circle. Now, each line from the center is a tatally different life you l ive. One life, you're a saint, one a serial killer, another your a cat or a dog. It really doesn't matter because the outer edge of the circle is death.
When all of the lines of your soul meet at the outer edge of the circle, they unite into your perfect being. Through this, you learn why good is good and evil is evil. And you know the difference because you've experienced it, not because someone has told you. The great thing is, that because time is simultaneous, your birth and death happen at the exact same moment, although, one may have lasted fifty years longer than the rest.

Since all time happens at the same moment, then all of your soul lines meet at the edge of the circle at the same time. No life has to wait for the rest of it's soul to catch up. When you die, it's all there, perfection and heaven awaiting you.

One Woman's Journey To Loving God

This is a writing a did a few years ago about my personal struggle to find god in spite of religion. I say in spite of religion, because I have had a hard time in comprehending the concepts of religion and those many variations of the rules that God supposedly put within them. please do bear with me.
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When I was a young child, I had no doubt there was a God. The only problem was, the "god" that I had known was what I had to trudge through Sunday school with and listen to dry, boring sermons on how we were all going to burn in hell (from my understanding) because we are all human and at one point or another are going to commit sin. The preacher never wasted an opportunity to tell us how God hates sin and sinners. So by this, I took it to mean every single person, unless a saint, was going to burn in hell.
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When I got a little bit older, I began to wonder exactly what was sin according to God? Did God really say there was such a thing as sin? If so, then why was sin different for everyone, and had so many variations on it? So, I started a very in-depth study of Christianity, to start with.
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Now, in the bible, as most of you know, there are many stories of things that happened to people who displeased God. Anything from beatings to death and everything in between. I still could not get clear answers to my questions. They seemed so muddled, and not as clear cut as the ten commandments would have one think.
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And then I started learning of Joan of Arc. I had seen an old black and white movie about her and was truly inspired by her bravery, devotion and love for God, as well as the lengths of the suffrage she went through for him. But, then I began to question that too. Why would God (supposedly merciful) allow one so loving and devoted to him to suffer at such lengths? Why would God have allowed her to even wage war in the name of politics? What great sin was committed by her if he chose her to be the Savior of Christianity? Again, sin came into question.

Through all this time I had been living with my birth mother. We had moved many times a year, and I had gone to many churches, by myself. I had noticed that each one had a different indoctrination, different ideals, different prayers, even different hymns. Even the atmospheres of each were different. The one thing that was constant, was the preacher/priest telling the congregation how we were God's children, how much he loved us, and that we were sinners and would burn in hell. There was very little variation on this, and that only through Christ would we be saved. Where we would be judged for our actions in life and then it would be decided whether or not we would be admitted through the pearly gates with the streets of gold, where we would not want for anything, a Utopia.
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Then my Grandfather died. He was the one person in the world I knew I could depend on for anything. He was my best friend, he was my everything at nine years old. I couldn't understand how a God that was supposed to be so loving to his children could allow this to happen. How could he let such a good man die? How could he take him from me? I had asked the priest after the funeral these questions. His reply was "He was a sinner, child. God takes the sinners so that we may find Him". I was devastated. How How could this man of the cloth tell me my grandfather was a sinner? So, I asked my grandmother how grandpa was a sinner, so bad that God had to take him to save us? She said because he drank sometimes, he smoked cigars, he taught me how to play poker and chess, and these were tools of Satan. Again, sin.
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I had a very hard time from then on. I did everything I possibly could to not be a sinner, it would kill my maternal Grandmother (who was now caring for me) if I died, which was becoming my only desire. I buried myself in the bible, the supposed word of God. I went to church everyday and prayed all the time. Very seldom was I not praying. I thought, if I prayed enough, God would forgive me of the sins I had committed in my 9 years and not take me, because by this time I was also punishing myself and began cutting, not only as a way to ease the emotional and mental pain, but also to punish myself for my own sin...my wanting to die. Every day my thoughts would be on how I would do it. Usually to blow my brains out all over the music room walls, shag carpet and stone fireplace.

To me, what I had found out was sin was anything that brought pleasure, joy and happiness, outside of prayer and glorifying God, not only what was written in the ten commandments.
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When I reached 13, a good friend of mine from school had come up missing. His body was founds in the quarry, half naked, beaten, tortured and sodomized to death. My cousin had run the local funeral parlor and I had lied to my grandma and told her I was going to see a girlfriend, but went to see my murdered friend at the funeral parlor. I sneaked down to The room. I saw his body laying there. I just wanted to tell him good bye. I saw what was done to him and I screamed, tears streaming and dripping on is poor, frail and mutilated body, at the pain he must have gone through. I cursed at God. How could he let this happen to an innocent little boy? What kind of God was he? What kind of love would allow this to happen? Needless to say, I went into a deep depression for months.
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From that second, I hated God. I could not bear to even hear God mentioned. I would fly into a rage and run if I heard a hymn or prayer. I would leave the room if anyone prayed, cursing god under my breath. Yet I was still forced to go to church. No one consoled me, even once. My eyes were dead and pleading for help, for understanding, as I would shake the preacher's hand on the way out after service. He never even noticed, wouldn't even look at me. I was shunned from everything I ever knew. Everyone looked at me as if what happened to Kevin was my fault. I hated God even more for this.

Many years passed, though my hatred for God never did. I went on living life, was married and kept busy with my duties. After After five years of marriage, I had finally been told I was pregnant. I was so happy, but still hated God. Then, when my first born son was put into my arms, I cried. He was perfect. I broke down crying, sobbing, really. I had felt like such a fool. How could I hate a God who gave me this precious life? This perfect little me?
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I climbed off my bed, handed my son to my step-mother (mom),and ran to the window. The full moon was out. It was the most beautiful moon I had ever seen. It was as if God was smiling down on me, sending me his rays of love through her. I begged his forgiveness and vowed to never doubt him again.
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It was shortly after this, that it seemed that all the questions I had had all my life, didn't really matter. Sin didn't matter, doctrines didn't matter, religion didn't matter. All that mattered was my love for god, my love for my son, and my love, finally, for myself. I began to realize, that it wasn't religion where God was, or the church, but within me, all around me, in every single thing that he created. It was like the world suddenly developed color. No more hues of grey, actual colors. Beautiful colors, the scent of the flowers, the grass, even the dirt and stones. I was finally able to recognize and absorb all of the universe's energies flowing all around me and through me. I was alive, and it was by God's grace that I was. I wish everyone to feel god's love as I have come to.
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I haven't doubted God since, and I never will.