For the last week, we excerpted ourselves, from our First Blush files. Why, you may well ask? Because we have so much to say about our home planet, and we love her too much to let her languish while we stand idly by. Read more here — and join the revolution.
There are sonnets and sonatas that our Mother has not written yet, complex plant life that She has not yet evolved to produce, future medicines found in the leaves of Her favorite plants that She has not yet decided to share. Should we wipe this all out before we see what She has in store for us? As we evolve, She evolves, not one without the other, but both in tandem for we are part of Nature and that is its essence, a lyrical dance where She and We constantly reveal ourselves to ourselves. Why would we ever want to stop the dance of so much possibility?
We love our stories, don’t we? It’s how our small brains are wired. We love stores around a campfire, we love stories before bed. It’s no coincidence that our stories at this time of year are about Nature. Gaia. The seeming return of life from the slumbering earth. As it turns out, we have quite a bit to say about our namesake, Queen of the Dead, Mrs. Hellfire, Persephone Herself. As a collective culture, we haven’t treated her very well, and there may be repercussions. Aretha said it best: give the girl a little R-E-S-P-E-C-T.
THE WOOD FOR THE TREES
In 1995, while still a wide-eyed environmental attorney, I took a meandering road trip through the magnificence of the Pacific Northwest. One evening at a local bar in Forks, Washington (the filming locale of the Twilight series), I found myself embroiled in a discussion, regarding the vicissitudes of logging with one of the locals, a lumberman who was just as passionate about the need for harvesting timber as I was about the need for the preservation of forests, particularly old growth ones. He repeatedly asked me, as if therein lied the answer to the Gordian knot we were trying to unravel, whether I liked my toilet paper one-ply or two-ply.
“Until you’re ready to have that conversation,” he said, “there’s really nothing to say.”
I remember being incensed that I couldn’t get this guy to see that what he was defending could wipe out years, perhaps decades of potential human existence on this planet. He refused to consider the possibility that trees act as the planet’s lungs and their removal jeopardized our oxygen supply just for a few more rolls of toilet paper. So while I saw his point, I didn’t see the need to wipe out whole forests to make it.
There are few things that speak to you like the towering majesty of an old growth forest. The slant and dapple of the light through the leaves, the song of the birds as they alight and fly, the flash of movement caught in the periphery as nature rearranges Herself, the heady smell of peat moss, representing life and death rolled into one. The bottom of peat moss decays to form peat deposits even as the top continues to grow which is basically how Mama Nature rolls, using the nutrients of the dead and decaying to fuel Her rebirth and regeneration, resulting in, ta-da, Spring, or as a microcosm, every dawning day. Take Persephone, the newly crowned Queen of the Dead, sleeping this whole long, lonely winter underground with her uncle cum husband (gross), Hades. Hades stole Persephone from the earth topside on a technicality and Demeter, her sweet mama and the Goddess of Agriculture was so disconsolate, she refused to let another thing grow until Persephone was returned to her. Such is a mother’s love — fierce, unpretentious, unwavering — just like our collective Mother is with her children, that is until we disrespect her and she turns on us like the Titan Cronus, known to the Romans as Saturn, who ate each of his sons when they were born so none could fulfill the prophesy to overthrow him. Coincidence? I’ll leave you to draw your own conclusions.
She’s here! Persephone has arrived in all her springtime finery. The dark nights are behind us, now: the celebration. Don’t be afraid, take my hand. Together, we’ll have an adventure watching the earth renew herself in joy and love. Namaste!
The world is changing. . .so are we, as the gods are busy working behind the scenes. A shift of consciousness is having a significant effect on all of us. Our local source of solar light is radiating ever more energy, changing the magnetics of the earth, and as inhabitants, we too. We are made of minerals, and light, and water. We are the earth, and she is us. How amazing is that? Maybe that’s why digging in the garden is so soothing, why the shushing of a spring shower, so calming. Gentle spring is coaxing us to renew our vision of what is possible. What do you desire? Plant that seed now.
The days are growing longer, can you feel it? The air is warming, sunlight brushes bare skin like a kiss. The quality of light is changing. . .and we don’t just mean this month’s lush full moon. However, while the planet is bathed in lunar light, it’s a good time to think about your own potential, even as you consider the seeds you’re planting. . .and set your intentions for a bountiful harvest. This Full Crow Moon marks a time for new beginnings. . .and celebration!
Spring is coming, Persephone is returning, and the equinox is a time of transformation. What are you willing to release? Clue: name something that’s no longer working, some place you feel stuck. Talk about your spring cleaning! Make a list of what you’re willing to release, take it out to the garden, and burn the paper, letting the ashes settle into the earth. Open your heart, and imagine yourself in a state of expanded happiness. The energy of spring will support you.
The sap is rising and Persephone is itching to make her escape from the underworld. As a husband, Hades has his faults but he lives in style and there isn’t a reservation that can’t be had as Mrs. Hades. Still, spring beckons. The daffodils are rising, and the bleeding hearts. Asparagus is in season and ewes are lambing. Besides, Hades is hot, but he is no George Stephanopolis. In the end, she reminds the poor old dear that a weekend away at Spa Equinox was part of the deal. Goddess bless separate vacations.
For the last week, we excerpted ourselves, from our First Blush files. Why, you may well ask? Because we have so much to say about our home planet, and we love her too much to let her languish while we stand idly by. Read more here — and join the revolution.
persephone's step-sisters 