Imaginal Journal
Imagination is Medicine
San Diego Milagros
Had a short stint in San Diego and stumbled on some gems. Had a lovely conversation with a shop owner who gifted me a retablo, a devotional folkart painting that usually depicts a scene with a patron saint offering divine intervention, after sharing a story about my father escaping a rabid dog as a child. I first fell in love with this type of folkart when I became aware of Frida Kahlo's collection of these at her La Casa Azul in Mexico City. Can't wait to explore more retablos and the rich stories of the miraculous they hold.
Moontime
“Traditionally, the Moontime is the sacred time of woman when she is honored as a Mother of the Creative Force. During this time she is allowed to release the old energy her body has carried and prepare for reconnection to the Earth Mother’s fertility that she will carry in the next Moon or month. Our Ancestors understood the importance of allowing each woman to have her Sacred Space during this time of reconnection, because women were the carriers of abundance and fertility…”
“As Grandmother Moon is the weaver of tides ( the water or blood of our Earth Mother) so a woman’s cycles follow the rhythm of that weaving. When women live together in a common space, their bodies begin to regulate their menses and all will eventually have their Moontime concurrently. This natural rhythm is one of the bonds of Sisterhood.”
“Women honor their sacred path when they acknowledge the intuitive knowing inherent in their receptive nature. In trusting the cycles of their bodies and allowing the feelings to emerge within them, women have been Seers and Oracles for their tribes for centuries.”
~Jamie Sams from Sacred Path Cards: The Discovery of Self Through Native Teachings
VIA: Mystic Mamma Blog
What You Are Heals
“Please remember, it is what you are that heals, not what you know.”
In Memorium to Magita
Our petit cat Maggie (aka Magpie, Magi, Maga, Magita) died this week of heart failure. We had her for nearly 10 years. She was a rescue with trauma, found with a litter. She lived with a vet before we got her & had a love affair with a Siamese. As our first pet, marking the beginning of our little family, we were warned that she may never behave like a normal cat & was considered special needs. Yet she over came tremendous anxiety & fear of almost everyone & everything to become a graceful, secure & confident presence in our family. We think she was between 12-13. That's about 70 in cat years. She loved shoes, hiding under beds, & climbing on top of your chest to purr over your heart. She was a very sweet & magical soul. She was a great teacher to us, brought us so much love & laughter, made few demands, & taught us how to be better human beings. Heaven sent & so she returns. 🐾
Vestiges by Martin Courtney
Cracked car parks, abandoned malls
Cheap guitars, and KC halls
Vestiges of springs and falls, long gone
Freaks and friends that I once knew
Will they smile like they used to
Will they still be there for you, at all
Even the old growth trees
Even the air we breath
It's hard to know if we can rely on anything
Black mold basements and fenced in yards
Rhapsodizing in packed out cars
One can hope it's in the cards for you
But this place is like a column of stone
Many moons for it to grow
Phases they will come and they will go
And with each passing day
It becomes easy to say
The more things change more things stay the same
Into My Arms by Nick Cave
I don't believe in an interventionist God
But I know, darling, that you do
But if I did I would kneel down and ask Him
Not to intervene when it came to you
Not to touch a hair on your head
To leave you as you are
And if He felt He had to direct you
Then direct you into my arms
Into my arms, O Lord
Into my arms, O Lord
Into my arms, O Lord
Into my arms
And I don't believe in the existence of angels
But looking at you I wonder if that's true
But if I did I would summon them together
And ask them to watch over you
To each burn a candle for you
To make bright and clear your path
And to walk, like Christ, in grace and love
And guide you into my arms
Into my arms, O Lord
Into my arms, O Lord
Into my arms, O Lord
Into my arms
But I believe in love
And I know that you do too
And I believe in some kind of path
That we can walk down, me and you
So keep your candles burning
And make her journey bright and pure
That she will keep returning
Always and evermore
Into my arms, O Lord
Into my arms, O Lord
Into my arms, O Lord
Into my arms