<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3225521693302466252</id><updated>2011-08-31T04:44:45.580-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Daughter of Demeter</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3225521693302466252/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Ravenstar</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14573180910618244434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/SzEy2Az-GFI/AAAAAAAAAIE/tYOAOF2h4Jg/S220/Spellbound_by%2520Anne%2520Stokes.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>21</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3225521693302466252.post-6903746277679947106</id><published>2011-08-12T13:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-12T13:16:31.053-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Reinvention</title><content type='html'>I'm contemplating what to do with this blog. I began with a single minded idea - to discuss my spiritual evolution. I have evolved a great deal since I began it. I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;just&lt;/span&gt; don't want to label myself as one thing or the other anymore. My practices are still very tied to the Goddess and the teachings of Wicca. However, I'll take inspiration and guidance from wherever it comes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd like this blog to be more well-rounded. I'm in the process of revamping it. It will l&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ook&lt;/span&gt; different when I'm through. I just don't exactly know how I want it to look.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Part of the desire for change comes from some of the amazing blogs I've been reading. There are some fantastic women out there living extraordinary lives. Here are just a couple you might wish to check out. They are not necessarily pagan blogs. They have wonderful stories/insights to offer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- thegoldpuppy.blogspot.com&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;travelswithpersephone&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;blogspot&lt;/span&gt;. com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me know what you think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blessings, Love, and Light!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3225521693302466252-6903746277679947106?l=daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/feeds/6903746277679947106/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/2011/08/reinvention.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3225521693302466252/posts/default/6903746277679947106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3225521693302466252/posts/default/6903746277679947106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/2011/08/reinvention.html' title='Reinvention'/><author><name>Ravenstar</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14573180910618244434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/SzEy2Az-GFI/AAAAAAAAAIE/tYOAOF2h4Jg/S220/Spellbound_by%2520Anne%2520Stokes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3225521693302466252.post-1216075047379018968</id><published>2010-12-03T21:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-03T21:49:30.261-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Falling</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/TPnWMnLbvZI/AAAAAAAAAI8/bX56T1W2q-s/s1600/leap-of-faith2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546699928247188882" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/TPnWMnLbvZI/AAAAAAAAAI8/bX56T1W2q-s/s320/leap-of-faith2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I haven't posted in many months. I don't really know what to say. I've isolated myself for a long time. I feel the need to connect with people, yet, I don't know where to start. Maybe I just do what I'm doing and write.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My life has changed over the last several months. I have become much more aware of how I want to live. I'm much less tolerant of those who wish to keep me in my self-inflicted box, in order to make themselves feel safer. I will not be contained by fear any longer. I'm very close to taking a giant leap of faith. I've done it before. The actual jumping is the hardest part. I'll be back when I land.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wishing everyone a most joyous and blessed holiday season.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3225521693302466252-1216075047379018968?l=daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/feeds/1216075047379018968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/2010/12/falling.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3225521693302466252/posts/default/1216075047379018968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3225521693302466252/posts/default/1216075047379018968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/2010/12/falling.html' title='Falling'/><author><name>Ravenstar</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14573180910618244434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/SzEy2Az-GFI/AAAAAAAAAIE/tYOAOF2h4Jg/S220/Spellbound_by%2520Anne%2520Stokes.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/TPnWMnLbvZI/AAAAAAAAAI8/bX56T1W2q-s/s72-c/leap-of-faith2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3225521693302466252.post-4941362154239965324</id><published>2010-02-04T16:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-04T17:48:23.606-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Passing</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/S2tp-UhH0BI/AAAAAAAAAIs/sUFjS177rqU/s1600-h/cheyenne+(2).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434553894733074450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 244px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/S2tp-UhH0BI/AAAAAAAAAIs/sUFjS177rqU/s320/cheyenne+(2).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cheyenne 1995-2010&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;May Your Spirit Soar&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;My husband and I finally had to make the heartbreaking decision to put our beloved girl down. She took a very noticable turn the other night and we knew it was time. Her passing was very peaceful. There is a very big empty space in our lives at the moment. We both know her spirit is, once again, free and this has eased our heartache to a degree. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;She passed on Imbolc. This gave me great comfort. I know she walked into her new destiny by Hecate's side. I am grateful for all the wonderful years I had with this most extraordinary animal. She will, forever, live in my heart. May your spirit soar, baby girl!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3225521693302466252-4941362154239965324?l=daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/feeds/4941362154239965324/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/2010/02/cheyenne-1995-2010-may-your-spirit-soar.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3225521693302466252/posts/default/4941362154239965324'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3225521693302466252/posts/default/4941362154239965324'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/2010/02/cheyenne-1995-2010-may-your-spirit-soar.html' title='Passing'/><author><name>Ravenstar</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14573180910618244434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/SzEy2Az-GFI/AAAAAAAAAIE/tYOAOF2h4Jg/S220/Spellbound_by%2520Anne%2520Stokes.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/S2tp-UhH0BI/AAAAAAAAAIs/sUFjS177rqU/s72-c/cheyenne+(2).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3225521693302466252.post-6649631310375033397</id><published>2010-01-10T08:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-10T08:09:15.654-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Winter</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/S0n7jYLi3JI/AAAAAAAAAIk/AMvtHjM63mw/s1600-h/Moonflowers1280.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425143811349339282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 256px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/S0n7jYLi3JI/AAAAAAAAAIk/AMvtHjM63mw/s320/Moonflowers1280.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Winter’s beauty is not lost to me. I love the full moon peeking through the giant cottonwood’s stark branches. I love the sight of softly fallen snow… so pure, so fresh, so new. I love the clean smell of the biting winter air. Yes, I could be in love with winter if I could live through it as it was meant to be lived. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Winter, to the ancients, was a time of respite from the labors of spring, summer, and fall. Winter was the time to huddle by the family hearth and rejuvenate and replenish the body, mind, and spirit. It was a time to rejoice in the bounty given by the earth mother, as well as a time to feel as though one was being cradled in her nurturing embrace. Winter was the time to reconnect to family, friends, and one’s self. By its very nature, it is the time for introspection…a glorious luxury lost to most of us in this modern era of always being “on the move.” &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve come to understand how the seasons of our lives are so intricately entwined with those of nature. It’s so obvious when you take the time to look. Life makes more sense when the comparisons are drawn. Spring…everything is new and buzzing with excitement. There is a palpable electrical current running through the newly budding flora, as well as through our newly forming bodies. Thoughts and action are often as one. Summer…beautiful, more mature; often, an overwhelming sense of nurturing is present. Fall…a time to slow down and take stock of all, thus far, reaped. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am in the fall of my life. Life is richer and more intensely felt than ever before. The colors of my life often reflect, as Lazarus has said, “a beautiful sadness.” There are great insights and brushes with the Divine. There is also the falling away of the old…habits, patterns of thought, the knowledge that some of those dearly loved will begin transitioning back to Source. As the leaves who have served their purpose begin to fall, acceptance and appreciation of the rhythms of life take root. The hues are deep and draw me in, just as does an autumn sunrise or sunset.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;With the turning of the Wheel, we come to winter…ah, winter. I feel its presence. I would be lying if I said I didn’t have fear around its coming. It has its own beauty in shades of black and white. Its contrasts are more defined. The winter of our lives should be a time when the serenity of knowing who we truly are is present. Our focus, ideally, should be about sharing the wisdom gathered during the other seasons. It’s the time to look at all the beautiful leaves we collected, turn them over in our hearts and minds, and decide where they might best be shared. If, through life’s seasons, enough seeds have been planted, nurtured, and acknowledged for the beauty of the gifts given, we will not be living the “winter of our discontent.” For myself, I would like to have laid down my burdens and enjoy floating downriver, letting the current take me home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3225521693302466252-6649631310375033397?l=daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/feeds/6649631310375033397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/2010/01/winter.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3225521693302466252/posts/default/6649631310375033397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3225521693302466252/posts/default/6649631310375033397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/2010/01/winter.html' title='Winter'/><author><name>Ravenstar</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14573180910618244434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/SzEy2Az-GFI/AAAAAAAAAIE/tYOAOF2h4Jg/S220/Spellbound_by%2520Anne%2520Stokes.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/S0n7jYLi3JI/AAAAAAAAAIk/AMvtHjM63mw/s72-c/Moonflowers1280.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3225521693302466252.post-8424164685226702560</id><published>2009-12-31T22:33:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-31T22:33:54.476-08:00</updated><title 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type='text/html' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/2009/12/banner-created-with-mybannermakercom_55.html' title=''/><author><name>Ravenstar</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14573180910618244434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/SzEy2Az-GFI/AAAAAAAAAIE/tYOAOF2h4Jg/S220/Spellbound_by%2520Anne%2520Stokes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3225521693302466252.post-4876192705002518560</id><published>2009-12-22T10:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-22T10:17:12.638-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Waves</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/SzEMo3VE9II/AAAAAAAAAH8/1lzMorodd4A/s1600-h/waves2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418125722890073218" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/SzEMo3VE9II/AAAAAAAAAH8/1lzMorodd4A/s320/waves2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have been asking myself for a long time, “What is my purpose? Why am I here?” I think I finally know. As a very wise friend puts it, the only purpose is to become more of who we already are. Does that make sense? We are all already who we were meant to be. We just don’t remember. The physical world, with all its trappings, so often clouds and overshadows our true essence. The need to become successful, by society’s standards, keeps our true purpose and authentic gifts either unrevealed, or unappreciated and dishonored. It is our desire to return to the reason for our existence on this earthly plane. We are the extension of Sacred Source in physical form. We are here to remember that and revel in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to think fame and money would make me happy. I really believe money cannot make you happy. Fame is an attempt to deal with the fear of death. If your true desire is money and fame, and you achieve it, what’s left? Just take a look at Hollywood. This week, yet another talented actress lost her life. I can’t be one hundred percent sure, but I’ll bet Brittany Murphy did not die entirely of natural causes. Seemingly, she had a great life...a career she loved, a husband, money…all the things Americans believe will lead to happiness. Look at Tiger Woods… a career playing golf, walking around in the sunshine a couple months a year, playing a game and raking in the dough. A beautiful wife and lovely children, and, yet, he blew it all up sleeping with a plethora of other women. My guess is that neither of these people had a genuine connection to their true power…the Divine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a side note to this week’s tragedy, do you think Saturday Night Live now gets the point that drug additiction, anorexia, world hunger, and every other painful thing they make light of is not so damn funny? That show hasn’t been funny in twenty years. Perhaps, it’s time to quit. If the only things they can write about are the sufferings of fellow human beings, it’s definitely time to stop polluting the already offensive airways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We live in a society that values the superficial. Many people don’t want to dig deep. All of our institutions, schools and churches included, are constructed in a way to keep us from enlightenment. If it looks good, all is well. All is not even in the vicinity of well. We need to refocus. Uncover our true natures, talents, and gifts. Learn to appreciate the simple things. Turn off the TV once in a while and go to Source. Sit with it, listen to it, let it envelope you, enfold you, love you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, what have I realized by examining myself, as well as looking at the people we, as a culture, believe to be blessed. Well, I used to be one of those people. I wasn’t thin enough, pretty enough, wealthy enough, etc, etc, etc. Am I completely cured of my superficial afflictions? No, but I’m a hell of a lot better than I was, and I’m getting healthier all the time. I believe money and fame may be by-products of doing what you love. That’s OK, so long as it’s not defining who you are, as a physical or spiritual being. I believe the lack of tending to spirit is the number one reason things often go so wrong. I’m not talking about going to church on Sunday and calling it good. I’m talking about daily mindfulness and gratitude for who we truly are…children of Sacred Source.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can’t pretend to know what Brittany and Tiger’s true goals are or were; all I know is something went terribly wrong. I feel sad about the death of Brittany Murphy. On screen, she exuded a light uniquely her own. By all accounts, she was plagued, as are so many of us, by self-doubt and a feeling of not being “good enough.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the true objective of life is to find joy, happiness, peace, and fulfillment in anything and everything we do. This is our mission. This is the way back to wholeness…oneness with Source. There are many blessings to be found in the simple things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As Wiccans, we follow a different path. Yet, many, many of us wrestle with these same issues. What can we do get back on our chosen paths? What can we do to change the world? There is only one answer. Change ourselves. Each of us sends a vibration out into the Sacred Stream. Each vibration changes the dynamics of the stream. Each change affects the Whole. Let’s stir the waters of mass consciousness and make some waves!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;As the darkness gives way to the light, let us be the torch guiding the way home. So mote it be.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3225521693302466252-4876192705002518560?l=daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/feeds/4876192705002518560/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/2009/12/waves.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3225521693302466252/posts/default/4876192705002518560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3225521693302466252/posts/default/4876192705002518560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/2009/12/waves.html' title='Waves'/><author><name>Ravenstar</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14573180910618244434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/SzEy2Az-GFI/AAAAAAAAAIE/tYOAOF2h4Jg/S220/Spellbound_by%2520Anne%2520Stokes.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/SzEMo3VE9II/AAAAAAAAAH8/1lzMorodd4A/s72-c/waves2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3225521693302466252.post-6010357382105526998</id><published>2009-12-21T18:19:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-21T18:19:01.258-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="visibility:hidden;width:0px;height:0px;" border=0 width=0 height=0 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href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/2009/12/banner-created-with-mybannermakercom.html' title=''/><author><name>Ravenstar</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14573180910618244434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/SzEy2Az-GFI/AAAAAAAAAIE/tYOAOF2h4Jg/S220/Spellbound_by%2520Anne%2520Stokes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3225521693302466252.post-6690737249390953271</id><published>2009-11-26T11:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-26T11:29:59.452-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Gratitude</title><content type='html'>&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408495597218454290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 355px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 258px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/Sw7WFxl4WxI/AAAAAAAAAHs/RZffhdsDh9A/s320/584019.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;                              Thanksgiving Blessings to All!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3225521693302466252-6690737249390953271?l=daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/feeds/6690737249390953271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/2009/11/thanksgiving-blessings-to-all_26.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3225521693302466252/posts/default/6690737249390953271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3225521693302466252/posts/default/6690737249390953271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/2009/11/thanksgiving-blessings-to-all_26.html' title='Gratitude'/><author><name>Ravenstar</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14573180910618244434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/SzEy2Az-GFI/AAAAAAAAAIE/tYOAOF2h4Jg/S220/Spellbound_by%2520Anne%2520Stokes.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/Sw7WFxl4WxI/AAAAAAAAAHs/RZffhdsDh9A/s72-c/584019.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3225521693302466252.post-8501258608221666600</id><published>2009-11-21T14:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-04T17:51:28.931-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cheyenne</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/Swh4Rk8wqhI/AAAAAAAAAG8/DsTNzR-irsQ/s1600/DSCF0110.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406703596029913618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/Swh4Rk8wqhI/AAAAAAAAAG8/DsTNzR-irsQ/s320/DSCF0110.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My husband found her when she was about eight weeks old. He was on his way to work, up in the back country, and he saw her jumping at butterflies near a bar ditch. He decided if she was still there at the end of the day, he would take her home. She was still there...a beautiful black, tan, and white puppy - a mutt, but a very special one, sent to teach. First him, and in time, me. She picked us to be her guardians in this lifetime, fourteen years ago. She is slowly making herself ready to go home to the Goddess; sacred source. Hecate is her guide. I know she will receive safe passage back to that from which we all come. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I wanted to write about Cheyenne while she is still here with us. She's sleeping behind my chair as I type. I have had many, many dogs in my life. She has been different than the others. It has always been so clear to me that she was "sent." Initially, it was to help my husband get through a very difficult time. She &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;didn't&lt;/span&gt; become "mine" until she was almost a year old...when my husband moved in and brought her with him. Yet, she has always been mine, as well. She was sent to me, also. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Were it not for Cheyenne, my marriage would almost assuredly have ended in the first or second year. If that had happened, I would not have learned all I now know about myself. I would not have learned how to incorporate a man into my life. I would not have learned to manage my, once, monstrous anger. I would not have learned tolerance and empathy. I would not have had the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;opportunity&lt;/span&gt; to know the totally original, complex, and maddening man who is my husband. Cheyenne kept us together. I knew if he left, he would have taken her with him. I couldn't bear to part with her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;These days, Cheyenne suffers from "sundown syndrome." As the light fades, she grows anxious and restless. She wanders the house and gets "stuck" in the corners. It's a hard thing to watch. She mostly sleeps during the day. She requires medication to be comfortable at night. I'm waiting for her to tell us it's time...time to go home. I don't think she's quite ready. I know we're not ready, but we'll do what is best for her. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My husband is devastated. I don't know this because he has said so. Devastated is not a word he would ever use to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;describe&lt;/span&gt; himself. I know what she means to him. I know she is the reason he was able to open his heart, the&lt;em&gt; tiniest&lt;/em&gt; bit, and try to love again. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know there are more lessons she wants to gift to us. My parents both died in a state of dementia. It was difficult to watch them deteriorate. It was difficult to care for them. It was heartbreaking. I was so angry at them. So, I am learning, through Cheyenne, to dig deeper and uncover a more profound level of love, patience, tolerance, and acceptance. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I often think I haven't had great periods of sustained &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;happiness&lt;/span&gt; in my life. Yet, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;every time&lt;/span&gt; I've looked at this dog, for the last fourteen years, I have felt pure joy. I could not have been given a greater gift.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love you, Cheyenne. I know one day our spirits will soar together. Until then, you live in my heart.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3225521693302466252-8501258608221666600?l=daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/feeds/8501258608221666600/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/2009/11/cheyenne.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3225521693302466252/posts/default/8501258608221666600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3225521693302466252/posts/default/8501258608221666600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/2009/11/cheyenne.html' title='Cheyenne'/><author><name>Ravenstar</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14573180910618244434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/SzEy2Az-GFI/AAAAAAAAAIE/tYOAOF2h4Jg/S220/Spellbound_by%2520Anne%2520Stokes.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/Swh4Rk8wqhI/AAAAAAAAAG8/DsTNzR-irsQ/s72-c/DSCF0110.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3225521693302466252.post-3748921565167122501</id><published>2009-09-05T14:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-05T14:37:05.740-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Manifestation</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/SqLZ6idet9I/AAAAAAAAAG0/k39mCYpagl4/s1600-h/2CAVL1DRBCALIBKWICAUX0ORZCAPGPB6ZCAJY5AQ3CALWN5DRCAD5XL2ICAB5ESA5CAL2IUVYCAFIJA04CA31056FCAC6JMR3CAAWOLKCCAR10DSDCA2RA7NICAE41SRZCAZ1DL0DCAME2QQ8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378100504739887058" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 89px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 111px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/SqLZ6idet9I/AAAAAAAAAG0/k39mCYpagl4/s320/2CAVL1DRBCALIBKWICAUX0ORZCAPGPB6ZCAJY5AQ3CALWN5DRCAD5XL2ICAB5ESA5CAL2IUVYCAFIJA04CA31056FCAC6JMR3CAAWOLKCCAR10DSDCA2RA7NICAE41SRZCAZ1DL0DCAME2QQ8.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've been practicing the Law of Attraction and, more importantly, letting go and trusting in the divine to bring all I need, want, and feel I deserve. That last part is keeping all I want from coming into my circumstance. Letting go of old thought patterns, regarding what I deserve and how things come to me, requires vigilance over allowing old ideas into my reality. For example, I was taught, as were many of us, that I must work hard for what I get in life. With that belief, it's difficult to believe financial abundance will come any other way. I keep reminding myself that I don't have to know&lt;em&gt; how&lt;/em&gt; something will manifest, only that it &lt;em&gt;will&lt;/em&gt; if I manage to keep my connection to the scared open and uncluttered. I am starting small. I have received conformation,from the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;PTB&lt;/span&gt; that they are listening and giving me what I want...just enough. I'm going to begin asking for more, not only financial abundance, but an abundance of health, love, friendship, etc. Meanwhile, my faith grows stronger. More and more of the time, I know all is well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a different vein, I went back to work last week. I'm a special education teacher again. Last year, I taught 8&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; grade English. I'm not used to classes as big as those were. I've always been a special ed. or reading teacher. I like working with smaller groups. It is so much less stressful and much more effective. I think once I've got a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;stranglehold&lt;/span&gt; on the paperwork, I'm going to like my job. I wrote a piece about my job last year, on another blog that sums up how I feel about what, where, and how I like to teach. It is as follows:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://songofsusan.blogspot.com/2009/05/fringe.html"&gt;Fringe&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_45mxcgvtwRQ/Sgc1Lpr6AII/AAAAAAAAADg/srrppMVtH4w/s1600-h/fish.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found out what my teaching assignment will be for next year - special ed - grades four, five, and six. I'm OK with that. This year, I taught eighth grade reading, actually, it was literature. I was hired to help out with the gigantic eighth grade class...too many kids, not enough teachers. I knew it was a temporary position. I'm OK with that, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've never been a regular classroom teacher until this year. I was a special ed teacher for thirteen years and a Title 1 reading teacher for nine years. I liked the reading job the best. My current district was hoping to have a full time literacy opening next year, but, alas, funds won't allow for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was torn between wanting the literacy job and wanting a room with a door. I really do not like the pod set up. It's like teaching in a fishbowl condo. There are five rooms along the edges of a common area. The rooms all have floor to ceiling sliding glass doors. As if that weren't bad enough, the doors are designed not to close all the way. So, there is a four foot, open entrance leading to each classroom. I know - it's all the rage...middle school philosophy and all. I hate that set up. The kids are always distracted by what's going on in the other classes, as well as what's going on in the pod. You can hear everything everyone says. You can see everything everyone does. By the way, I hate the word pod. It's creepy. It's reminiscent of that futuristic old horror movie where everyone was taken over by aliens. Whales live in pods. For them, it's a good thing, as Martha Stewart would say. Not so much for eighth graders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until this year, I'd always led a rather autonomous existence in the schools in which I've worked. This year, I was entrenched in the eighth grade pod. The other teachers were very helpful to me, the newcomer. I appreciate their efforts. The whole set up is just not me. All the while I was asking the universe for the literacy position, I was also asking for a door. The two don't jive in this situation. The room with the door won out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be back to setting up my own program. I like having some freedom within the institution that is a public school. It's hard to find. Freedom is not a top priority in a building housing 700 kids for eight hours a day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My new room is smaller. That's fine. I'll be back to working with smaller groups of kids and, hopefully, feeling like I'm making some kind of a difference for more of them. It's almost impossible to give individual help to a kid when there are twenty plus others also wanting your attention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My new room will not be in a pod. It will be adjacent to a pod...on the fringe, you might say. Ah, back where I belong.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3225521693302466252-3748921565167122501?l=daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/feeds/3748921565167122501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/2009/09/ive-been-practicing-law-of-attraction.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3225521693302466252/posts/default/3748921565167122501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3225521693302466252/posts/default/3748921565167122501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/2009/09/ive-been-practicing-law-of-attraction.html' title='Manifestation'/><author><name>Ravenstar</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14573180910618244434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/SzEy2Az-GFI/AAAAAAAAAIE/tYOAOF2h4Jg/S220/Spellbound_by%2520Anne%2520Stokes.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/SqLZ6idet9I/AAAAAAAAAG0/k39mCYpagl4/s72-c/2CAVL1DRBCALIBKWICAUX0ORZCAPGPB6ZCAJY5AQ3CALWN5DRCAD5XL2ICAB5ESA5CAL2IUVYCAFIJA04CA31056FCAC6JMR3CAAWOLKCCAR10DSDCA2RA7NICAE41SRZCAZ1DL0DCAME2QQ8.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3225521693302466252.post-3364666379799690795</id><published>2009-08-04T09:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-04T10:33:20.086-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Regrouping</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/Snhvz32IpsI/AAAAAAAAAGs/azjzIorYpYQ/s1600-h/money.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366161892966966978" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 130px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 130px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/Snhvz32IpsI/AAAAAAAAAGs/azjzIorYpYQ/s320/money.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, I've not blogged for a while...too much going on in my head and in my life. I don't really want to go into the negatives, other than to say I'm holding strong, for the most part, and the marital &lt;em&gt;stuff &lt;/em&gt;is going to resolve itself, one way or the other, very soon. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;For today, I'm remembering that I am an aspect of Source and I am loved. I believe one of the most important aspects of being a witch is having faith in the rhythms of the universe. It is sometimes very difficult to hang on to the belief that everything you need will come if you can just not block the flow by &lt;em&gt;worst case scenario&lt;/em&gt; thoughts. My fear around not having enough money is palpable at present. Money is an ongoing thorn in my side. Yet, I have never&lt;em&gt; not&lt;/em&gt; been able to find a way to come up with money in a pinch. Why would this time be any different? The trick is to not allow fear to extinguish faith. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wicca is all about &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;utilizing&lt;/span&gt; the &lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;magick&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; available to us all. While I'm able to come up with money when immediately needed, I never have a surplus, and finding it doesn't come easy. Therefore, it's way past time to take a good look at what money represents in my life. What beliefs are stopping the flow? Do I believe I'm not worthy of more money? Do I believe I must work hard to get money? Do you see where I'm going with this? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I believe in the Law of Attraction. I believe like attracts like. Negative thoughts beget more of the same. Source will always bring what you're asking for - positive or negative. Right now, I can't see a&lt;em&gt; logical&lt;/em&gt; way for financial abundance to come into my life. That's where faith comes in, doesn't it? I have to get to the place where I can say, "It's not my job to know how something will come to me. It's my job to step aside and let Sacred Source bring it to me." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today, I'm going to let it go! I'm grateful for all I &lt;em&gt;do&lt;/em&gt; have in my life. So, I'll stand aside and let the&lt;em&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;magick&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; happen! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Blessed Be.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3225521693302466252-3364666379799690795?l=daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/feeds/3364666379799690795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/2009/08/regrouping.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3225521693302466252/posts/default/3364666379799690795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3225521693302466252/posts/default/3364666379799690795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/2009/08/regrouping.html' title='Regrouping'/><author><name>Ravenstar</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14573180910618244434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/SzEy2Az-GFI/AAAAAAAAAIE/tYOAOF2h4Jg/S220/Spellbound_by%2520Anne%2520Stokes.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/Snhvz32IpsI/AAAAAAAAAGs/azjzIorYpYQ/s72-c/money.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3225521693302466252.post-7504434723404325266</id><published>2009-07-20T09:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-20T13:03:05.982-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Inspiration</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/SmSbg8dOp1I/AAAAAAAAAGk/Jm72ayUjbpQ/s1600-h/UCAQ8ITSNCAP17ETCCARY4VXKCAV053K1CALU48ESCAEK0DACCAFY2QFSCA63LC1RCAV2AID1CAXITIFJCAT0ST9JCAC9BUUCCADO1Y9CCA0NN37ICA9YPOOSCA7VKLGSCANIJCCSCAT1K8E1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360580446764574546" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 108px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 111px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/SmSbg8dOp1I/AAAAAAAAAGk/Jm72ayUjbpQ/s320/UCAQ8ITSNCAP17ETCCARY4VXKCAV053K1CALU48ESCAEK0DACCAFY2QFSCA63LC1RCAV2AID1CAXITIFJCAT0ST9JCAC9BUUCCADO1Y9CCA0NN37ICA9YPOOSCA7VKLGSCANIJCCSCAT1K8E1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The poetry reading was so much fun! My friend, Stephanie was amazing! When I listen to her work, I often think, "Where did that come from?" Her insights are astounding. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Several other people read their work. Some of them were truly gifted. The whole experience inspired me to spend more time on my own writing. I think I might find the courage to read a piece, or two, in the not too distant future.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I felt very relaxed that evening. I didn't worry about getting home early, or what my husband might say when I got home. I just simply enjoyed myself. Hmmm...enjoying myself - sounds like a plan!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3225521693302466252-7504434723404325266?l=daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/feeds/7504434723404325266/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/2009/07/inspiration.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3225521693302466252/posts/default/7504434723404325266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3225521693302466252/posts/default/7504434723404325266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/2009/07/inspiration.html' title='Inspiration'/><author><name>Ravenstar</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14573180910618244434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/SzEy2Az-GFI/AAAAAAAAAIE/tYOAOF2h4Jg/S220/Spellbound_by%2520Anne%2520Stokes.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/SmSbg8dOp1I/AAAAAAAAAGk/Jm72ayUjbpQ/s72-c/UCAQ8ITSNCAP17ETCCARY4VXKCAV053K1CALU48ESCAEK0DACCAFY2QFSCA63LC1RCAV2AID1CAXITIFJCAT0ST9JCAC9BUUCCADO1Y9CCA0NN37ICA9YPOOSCA7VKLGSCANIJCCSCAT1K8E1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3225521693302466252.post-5383044173045991868</id><published>2009-07-18T12:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-18T13:29:09.618-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Metamorphosis</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/SmIvUzTNYPI/AAAAAAAAAGc/gJpIIC-WKA8/s1600-h/butterfly-tattoo-design4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359898540938977522" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 297px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/SmIvUzTNYPI/AAAAAAAAAGc/gJpIIC-WKA8/s320/butterfly-tattoo-design4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, it's been the better part of a week since my last post. My husband has been working for a friend; making repairs to her home. He has been very careful of the way he converses with me. I have tried to be loving and supportive, but at a distance. I've been way too involved in trying to "fix" his life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a bit difficult to step back and watch, although I know I must. I can see his fear. The old patterns of our life together are falling away and he's not sure what to do. I know I must stand back and let the chips fall where they may. He'll either rally or he'll give up. I don't have a clue how it's all going to play out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm holding my own, saying the things I need to say. Tonight, I'm going to a poetry reading in town. My friend is going to present some of her incredible writings. I still feel strong, although, when I wake up, my first reaction has often been one of fear. I can feel it in the pit of my stomach. My old self is falling away. Waking, lately, has been reminiscent of the way I've felt in the weeks after the death of a loved one. I'm resolute, however. There is no turning back. Can the caterpillar keep from becoming what it was meant to be?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm proud of the fact that I'm finally beginning to take care of my needs. It feels good. It feels right. My focus is clearing. The fog is lifting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3225521693302466252-5383044173045991868?l=daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/feeds/5383044173045991868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/2009/07/metamorphisis.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3225521693302466252/posts/default/5383044173045991868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3225521693302466252/posts/default/5383044173045991868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/2009/07/metamorphisis.html' title='Metamorphosis'/><author><name>Ravenstar</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14573180910618244434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/SzEy2Az-GFI/AAAAAAAAAIE/tYOAOF2h4Jg/S220/Spellbound_by%2520Anne%2520Stokes.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/SmIvUzTNYPI/AAAAAAAAAGc/gJpIIC-WKA8/s72-c/butterfly-tattoo-design4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3225521693302466252.post-6172397981737055438</id><published>2009-07-14T16:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-14T15:41:43.910-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Light</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/Sl0Itki0SZI/AAAAAAAAAEU/QkmO3olB1d0/s1600-h/PCAJ503U5CAKH56CVCAV1WTV5CAIQD921CAH4JIXVCA4ECH9MCAONXL34CAHP052HCAAZC3OQCAXUG43HCAKVOZ5ZCAD0WC1HCAITCN4CCAMNCE2UCARMG3PNCAVBLX09CAPNW2PJCAN1HAEI.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358448710637603218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 126px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 130px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/Sl0Itki0SZI/AAAAAAAAAEU/QkmO3olB1d0/s320/PCAJ503U5CAKH56CVCAV1WTV5CAIQD921CAH4JIXVCA4ECH9MCAONXL34CAHP052HCAAZC3OQCAXUG43HCAKVOZ5ZCAD0WC1HCAITCN4CCAMNCE2UCARMG3PNCAVBLX09CAPNW2PJCAN1HAEI.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have always lived to please others in the hope I could get the love I so desperately needed, or in the hope I could make the other person happy. It has taken me to this point in my life to realize that happiness comes from within and is the responsibility of each person to cultivate it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My relationship with my husband is no different. I have been trying to please him for twelve years. I have tiptoed around his moods. I have tolerated him moving from job to job. I have given him license to keep me under his considerably large thumb. He's not a bad person. He's just terribly frightened and doesn't have the necessary tools to deal with his fear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He decided, last Friday, to quit his job, that very day! He has watched me &lt;em&gt;rob Peter to pay Paul&lt;/em&gt; for most of our marriage. He has always made substantially less money than I. We have been having more financial difficulty this past year, due to our move to a new state. We bought a home, complete with mortgage. He didn't work for the first 6 months we lived here. Quitting the job was last of the proverbial straws. I told him before he did it, that he would have to move out if he quit. He did it anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I immediately went to the bank and opened up my own checking account. I got a form for him to sign, taking his name off the deed to the house. I cried and cried. I was sitting in the bank, waiting to be helped, and I felt as though I was in a funeral parlor. The sense of the surreal , which often accompanies things that are perceived as tragic, descended upon me. I felt empty, drained.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I returned home, my husband fell into my arms sobbing. He professed his love for me and said he didn't want to leave. We sat down to talk. We talked for a long time. I told him all the things I hadn't told him for the last twelve years...lovingly, not in anger. I explained, very clearly, that I was on a path of growth. I told him I had no desire to sit in the house because he's afraid I'll find a life and leave him. We talked about whether or not he wanted to support my growth, as well as whether or not he thought he would be able to make some shifts in the way he thinks and reacts. We spoke of many other things, including financial responsibility. In the end, we decided to try to build a new foundation under our very rocky relationship. Part of me wishes he had chosen to leave. We'll see how it goes. I will be paying particular attention to how I feel. I want to feel good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This encounter has enabled me to see that I am ready and able to stand on my own. I have been feeling very connected and supported by Source. I have known all my life, that I would have to take this stand with someone in order to be whole. That someone turned out to be me. I feel liberated. I feel strong. I actually feel happy! My dear friend Stephanie often asks me what I really want. I usually get an image of Mel Gibson as William Wallace, in Braveheart, screaming the word, "FREEDOM!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The great weight, which has been with me for many years, has been lifted and it feels safe to step out into the light.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blessed Be.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3225521693302466252-6172397981737055438?l=daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/feeds/6172397981737055438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/2009/07/light.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3225521693302466252/posts/default/6172397981737055438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3225521693302466252/posts/default/6172397981737055438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/2009/07/light.html' title='Light'/><author><name>Ravenstar</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14573180910618244434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/SzEy2Az-GFI/AAAAAAAAAIE/tYOAOF2h4Jg/S220/Spellbound_by%2520Anne%2520Stokes.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/Sl0Itki0SZI/AAAAAAAAAEU/QkmO3olB1d0/s72-c/PCAJ503U5CAKH56CVCAV1WTV5CAIQD921CAH4JIXVCA4ECH9MCAONXL34CAHP052HCAAZC3OQCAXUG43HCAKVOZ5ZCAD0WC1HCAITCN4CCAMNCE2UCARMG3PNCAVBLX09CAPNW2PJCAN1HAEI.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3225521693302466252.post-3454167860789575852</id><published>2009-07-09T14:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-09T16:26:54.948-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Circles</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/SlZ8sS2GzyI/AAAAAAAAAD8/59jXV5jmCE8/s1600-h/1CA76KS5TCAOZTNDCCATNJ9ULCARSEEROCAL4KN83CALLW1OTCAS35OIJCA7W737JCACJWPIMCAO3913NCAO53KF4CAAEIN62CA5I8ZQDCAV2NAHWCAA22BNLCAMQDGC1CAMYOKCBCAM9AJD4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356605907218648866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 134px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 90px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/SlZ8sS2GzyI/AAAAAAAAAD8/59jXV5jmCE8/s320/1CA76KS5TCAOZTNDCCATNJ9ULCARSEEROCAL4KN83CALLW1OTCAS35OIJCA7W737JCACJWPIMCAO3913NCAO53KF4CAAEIN62CA5I8ZQDCAV2NAHWCAA22BNLCAMQDGC1CAMYOKCBCAM9AJD4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last night, I went to a full moon ritual. It's the first one I've ever attended, excluding on line rituals, which I attend fairly frequently. It wasn't a Wiccan ritual. It was offered by a woman following the path of the Shaman. She studied in Peru. She is passionate about her path and enjoys sharing it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It didn't matter that the ceremony was not Wiccan. It was somewhat similar, though. She created sacred space...a circle. She did something very close to calling the quarters, or the Guardians of the Watchtowers. She called forth god/goddess. Therefore, the ritual felt familiar. Even if it hadn't, it would have been fine with me. It was good to watch someone conduct ritual. More importantly, it was good to be with people who are thinking and acting&lt;em&gt; out of the box&lt;/em&gt;. I was impressed. A &lt;em&gt;ton&lt;/em&gt; of good energy was raised during the drumming circle, which was great fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This experience was important for me in other ways. Most profoundly, it was, yet, another small step into my authentic self. Self actualization can be difficult. It may be even more difficult if there is a &lt;em&gt;significant other&lt;/em&gt; in the picture. My husband and I have been living, and communicating, a certain way for twelve years. A huge part of the foundation of our relationship is built upon pain and fear from our distant pasts. Many relationships begin this way. People seek out the one best able to help in their healing. As a rule, we don't realize this is what we are doing at the time. Marriages fall apart because one person wakes to a new way and the other doesn't. The marriages that last, and build stronger foundations, work to heal the old issues. It's not an easy task. Many people choose not to undertake it. I'd like to think my husband and I can build a new house, from the bottom up. Time will tell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I am awaking to the new possibilities, my husband is feeling terribly frightened. So am I. We moved to our new town almost a year ago. When we lived in New Mexico, the town was so small, there was nowhere to go and not much to do. Everything was so far away. We pretty much settled into a cocoon of the safe and familiar. We went to work. We went to the local bar and restaurant. A couple times a month we ventured over to Taos for a little more variety of experience. Our new town affords more opportunity. It is one of the reasons we moved here. The transition, however, has been most difficult for my husband. He is very frightened of me going places without him. I am responding to his discomfort the same way I did when my mother acted out when I left her. She created such discomfort when I returned home, that I never had a good time. I was always worrying about what was waiting for me upon my return. I never realized, until this move, how much I have allowed the comfort of others to dictate how I live. I am fearful and angry. But, I have passed that point, where I know I have come too far to turn back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have never truly lived alone. I fear I can't take care of myself. The fear of losing my only family haunts me. The logical truth is that I have always lived alone, even in the presence of others. Love, with very few exceptions, has always been conditional. I have always been the strong one, the caretaker. Logic, often, takes a backseat to fear. It feels like I'm the weak one; that I can't survive if I'm left alone; that my heart will break into so many pieces, repair will be impossible. I often feel like I will die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Slowly, very slowly, I am beginning to unravel these myths that feel so real, still. I have days where I feel invincible. I am beginning to practice self love. I am stepping out of the padded cell of my own creation. I am stepping into the light and breathing the air of change. Is it always comfortable? Absolutely not. It it necessary? Absolutely. Will I prevail? Yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have known for a very long time that this day was coming. I have feared it. I have welcomed it. I have wished I could return to the cocoon. I cannot. I was not brought forth to cower in darkness. I am more and more realizing that I am not alone. There are people out there who are making the same journey. I know them. I admire them. I desire to be one of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my soul, I know, without doubt, Source supports my growth. It revels in watching me become joyful. It is waiting, patiently, with open arms, for my arrival home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blessed Be.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3225521693302466252-3454167860789575852?l=daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/feeds/3454167860789575852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/2009/07/last-night-i-went-to-full-moon-ritual.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3225521693302466252/posts/default/3454167860789575852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3225521693302466252/posts/default/3454167860789575852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/2009/07/last-night-i-went-to-full-moon-ritual.html' title='Circles'/><author><name>Ravenstar</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14573180910618244434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/SzEy2Az-GFI/AAAAAAAAAIE/tYOAOF2h4Jg/S220/Spellbound_by%2520Anne%2520Stokes.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/SlZ8sS2GzyI/AAAAAAAAAD8/59jXV5jmCE8/s72-c/1CA76KS5TCAOZTNDCCATNJ9ULCARSEEROCAL4KN83CALLW1OTCAS35OIJCA7W737JCACJWPIMCAO3913NCAO53KF4CAAEIN62CA5I8ZQDCAV2NAHWCAA22BNLCAMQDGC1CAMYOKCBCAM9AJD4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3225521693302466252.post-5999263553747675226</id><published>2009-06-29T10:45:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-29T11:40:38.026-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Altars</title><content type='html'>I love altars! I love creating them, much the same way I love creating a bulletin board in my classroom. The process is both fun and sacred. The more I think about it, the more I believe those two words are synonymous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is my altar during various &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Sabbats&lt;/span&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/Skj-mXX0tkI/AAAAAAAAADs/YXxv6x5FZiY/s1600-h/DSCF0125.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352808092192257602" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/Skj-mXX0tkI/AAAAAAAAADs/YXxv6x5FZiY/s320/DSCF0125.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Litha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/Skj-l7uVC4I/AAAAAAAAADk/yelCrnhsE4g/s1600-h/DSCF0284.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352808084770458498" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/Skj-l7uVC4I/AAAAAAAAADk/yelCrnhsE4g/s320/DSCF0284.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Yule&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/Skj-lohgTLI/AAAAAAAAADc/HP-pk7pE6Mo/s1600-h/DSCF0186.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352808079616396466" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/Skj-lohgTLI/AAAAAAAAADc/HP-pk7pE6Mo/s320/DSCF0186.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Samhain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/Skj-lexMNEI/AAAAAAAAADU/NHcxyN4gNlQ/s1600-h/DSCF0348.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352808076997833794" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/Skj-lexMNEI/AAAAAAAAADU/NHcxyN4gNlQ/s320/DSCF0348.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Ostara&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My everyday altar consists of black, green, and white altar cloths overlaying each other so each color can be seen. It is my altar to the goddesses Persephone, Demeter, and Hecate - my trinity.&lt;br /&gt;I have a print of Persephone hanging above the altar. Also present are statues of an earth goddess, honoring Demeter, as well as one in the image of Hecate. White, black, green, and red candles light the darkness. I keep my chalice, cauldron, pentacle, wand, and an assortment of stones and crystals on the altar, or very nearby. Often, there is an offering bowl on the altar, containing apples or pomegranates - gifts for the goddesses who guide and protect me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goddess is alive...&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Magick&lt;/span&gt; is afoot!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3225521693302466252-5999263553747675226?l=daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/feeds/5999263553747675226/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/2009/06/altars.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3225521693302466252/posts/default/5999263553747675226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3225521693302466252/posts/default/5999263553747675226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/2009/06/altars.html' title='Altars'/><author><name>Ravenstar</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14573180910618244434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/SzEy2Az-GFI/AAAAAAAAAIE/tYOAOF2h4Jg/S220/Spellbound_by%2520Anne%2520Stokes.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/Skj-mXX0tkI/AAAAAAAAADs/YXxv6x5FZiY/s72-c/DSCF0125.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3225521693302466252.post-3154388508992146307</id><published>2009-06-27T18:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-28T18:01:44.663-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Goddess</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/SkU66rt3sOI/AAAAAAAAADE/4vgifd0UMXE/s1600-h/goddess+tree.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351748512041644258" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 302px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/SkU66rt3sOI/AAAAAAAAADE/4vgifd0UMXE/s320/goddess+tree.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I went into therapy, in my mid twenties, I subjected myself to a battery of tests, presumably so the therapist could gain some insight into what made me tick. Well, when all was said and done, a very official report regarding the findings, which was never meant for &lt;em&gt;my&lt;/em&gt; eyes,&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;found it's way into my hands. The line that I most &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;remember&lt;/span&gt; stated that I was &lt;em&gt;ambiguous about&lt;/em&gt; &lt;em&gt;being female&lt;/em&gt;. I was outraged! How dare someone decide, based on some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;cockamamie&lt;/span&gt; test, that I didn't want to be a woman. In addition to my anger, I was deeply ashamed. I believed I was truly, and irreconcilably, defective. At the time, I had no understanding as to the meaning of this &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;statement&lt;/span&gt;, nor did I really know if I was ambiguous or not. Today, many years later, I do understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How was I supposed to know about the true meaning of being a woman? I didn't have any positive role models growing up, and there were certainly no deities of the feminine persuasion in the church. I have no desire to cast disparaging remarks on the women in my family. They taught me what they knew - how to cook, clean, and make sure the &lt;em&gt;other&lt;/em&gt; members of the family were content and comfortable. They had little self esteem. Their worth was determined by the reactions and responses of the people they believed they were meant to keep happy. How could they impart the wisdom I so sorely needed. They didn't have a clue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Their teachings gave me some valuable survival skills. Unfortunately, the subliminal message I received was: &lt;em&gt;You come&lt;/em&gt; &lt;em&gt;last&lt;/em&gt;. &lt;em&gt;You accept, with gratitude, the crumbs of recognition and approval you are given by your husband, children, boss, etc.&lt;/em&gt; As a result, I, like so many other women, learned to completely ignore my own needs and desires. I buried them so deeply, I am just now, at age 55, uncovering and rediscovering my hidden treasures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mother and grandmothers did not do this knowingly. Nor did this profound ignorance only inhabit the women of &lt;em&gt;my&lt;/em&gt; family. This lack of knowledge regarding women, and the sacredness of the feminine, is eons old. It has long been a part of what Carl Jung termed the &lt;em&gt;collective unconscious&lt;/em&gt;. In other words, the denial and fear surrounding the feminine has become part of the fabric of world consciousness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Was this always the way of women? There was a time, before the modern religions extinguished the fire, when the goddess reigned. There was a time when the feminine was sacred, it's power viewed with awe. Women were endowed with the ability to bear children. The ancients did not understand the biology behind this remarkable feat. Women were simply mystical, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;magickal&lt;/span&gt;, and powerful. Today, of course, we understand the workings of the female body. We know that a masculine force is needed, as well, in order for conception to take place. Was it this knowledge that began the pendulum swing from an emphasis on the sacred feminine to the concept of a male god ,and &lt;em&gt;only&lt;/em&gt; a male god? I don't think so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There has always been tremendous fear around the feminine. The masculine aspect of sacred energy represents&lt;em&gt; doing&lt;/em&gt;. The feminine represents &lt;em&gt;being&lt;/em&gt;. There is mystery and fear surrounding &lt;em&gt;being&lt;/em&gt;. &lt;em&gt;Being&lt;/em&gt; is communion with &lt;em&gt;All That Is.&lt;/em&gt; The feminine creates the space to allow such experiences. That's true power.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our present world is just beginning to allow for this power. It remains, largely, unfamiliar. Unfamiliarity breeds discomfort, for both men and women. Regardless, the time is now. We can't afford to wait. Open your heart and step into her loving embrace. Let her transform you. Let her heal you. Let her love you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goddess Bless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3225521693302466252-3154388508992146307?l=daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/feeds/3154388508992146307/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/2009/06/goddess.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3225521693302466252/posts/default/3154388508992146307'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3225521693302466252/posts/default/3154388508992146307'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/2009/06/goddess.html' title='Goddess'/><author><name>Ravenstar</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14573180910618244434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/SzEy2Az-GFI/AAAAAAAAAIE/tYOAOF2h4Jg/S220/Spellbound_by%2520Anne%2520Stokes.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/SkU66rt3sOI/AAAAAAAAADE/4vgifd0UMXE/s72-c/goddess+tree.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3225521693302466252.post-3000166935152748575</id><published>2009-06-22T14:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-28T18:02:43.215-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dark Moon</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/Sj_84h69HsI/AAAAAAAAAC8/qf4f-0QIFNQ/s1600-h/Hecate.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350272930447957698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 233px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/Sj_84h69HsI/AAAAAAAAAC8/qf4f-0QIFNQ/s320/Hecate.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hear now the words of the Dark Goddess:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wisdom and Empowerment are the gifts of the Dark Goddess of Transformation.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;She is known to us as Kali, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Hekate&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Cerridwen&lt;/span&gt;, Lilith, Persephone, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Fata&lt;/span&gt;, Morgana, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Ereshkigal&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Arianhrod&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Durga&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Tiamet&lt;/span&gt;, and by a million, million other names:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Here Me child, and know Me for who I am. I have been with you since you were born, and I will stay with you until you return to Me at the final dusk.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;I am the passionate and seductive lover who inspires the poet to dream. I am the One who calls to you at the end of your journey. After the day is done, My children find their blessed rest in My embrace.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;I am the womb from which all things are born. I am the shadowy, still tomb; all things must come to Me and bare their breasts to die and be reborn to the Whole.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;I am the Sorceress that will not be ruled, the Weaver of Time, the Teacher of Mysteries. I snip the threads that bring My children home to Me. I slit the throats of the cruel and drink the blood of the heartless. Swallow your fear and come to Me, and you will discover true beauty, strength, and courage.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;I am the fury which rips the flesh from injustice. I am the glowing forge that t&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;ransforms&lt;/span&gt; your inner demons into tools of Power. Open yourself to My embrace and overcome.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;I am the glinting sword that protects you from harm. I am the crucible in which all the aspects of yourself merge together in a rainbow of union.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;I am the velvet depths of the night sky, the swirling mists of midnight, shrouded in mystery.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;I am the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;chrysalis in&lt;/span&gt; which you will face that which terrifies you, and from which you will blossom forth, vibrant and renewed. Seek Me at the crossroads, and you shall be transformed, for once you look upon My face, there is no return.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;I am the fire that kisses the shackles away. I am the cauldron in which all opposites grow to know each other in truth. I am the web which connects all things.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;I am the healer of all wounds, the Warrior who rights all wrongs in their time. I make the weak strong. I make the arrogant humble. I raise up the oppressed and empower the disenfranchised. I am justice tempered with mercy.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Most importantly, child, I am you. I am part of you, and I am within you. Seek Me within and without, and you will be strong. Know Me. Venture into the dark so that you may awaken to balance, illumination, and wholeness.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Take My love with you everywhere and find the power within to be who you wish.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Author Unknown&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3225521693302466252-3000166935152748575?l=daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/feeds/3000166935152748575/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/2009/06/new-moon.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3225521693302466252/posts/default/3000166935152748575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3225521693302466252/posts/default/3000166935152748575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/2009/06/new-moon.html' title='Dark Moon'/><author><name>Ravenstar</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14573180910618244434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/SzEy2Az-GFI/AAAAAAAAAIE/tYOAOF2h4Jg/S220/Spellbound_by%2520Anne%2520Stokes.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/Sj_84h69HsI/AAAAAAAAAC8/qf4f-0QIFNQ/s72-c/Hecate.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3225521693302466252.post-3547593256178153234</id><published>2009-06-21T17:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-21T19:07:10.476-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Midsummer</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/Sj7moW4Hr_I/AAAAAAAAAC0/Lx7akrZSPGg/s1600-h/stonehenge_summer_solstice.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349966988372848626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 165px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/Sj7moW4Hr_I/AAAAAAAAAC0/Lx7akrZSPGg/s320/stonehenge_summer_solstice.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just wanted to wish everyone a most blessed Midsummer. Today is my birthday! I'm a solstice baby. I was born on my parents' second wedding anniversary, 55 years ago. I don't know where the time has gone. In my heart and mind, I'm still a kid.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I always thought being born on the longest day of the year was special. It was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;magickal&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; to me before I knew what &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;magick&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; meant. I can remember staying up late, as a child, on my birthday, and waiting for the fireflies to begin their twinkling. It didn't get dark until until almost 9pm, and my brother and I would be running around the lawn in our pajamas. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Magickal&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; times, truly. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Tonight, I'm home with my dogs and cats. My husband won't be home from work until 11pm. I had a nice day. He made breakfast for me and gave me a beautiful card. I went for a long walk, with a dear friend, late this afternoon. We sat at the edge of the Arkansas River. We reveled in its peacefulness and were awed by its power.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's lovely outside...a light breeze stirring, the sound of children playing, much the same as it was so long ago. I'm going to do a simple ritual to commemorate the day. I'll give thanks for another year and celebrate the power of the natural world.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;In love and light! Solstice blessings!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3225521693302466252-3547593256178153234?l=daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/feeds/3547593256178153234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/2009/06/midsummer.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3225521693302466252/posts/default/3547593256178153234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3225521693302466252/posts/default/3547593256178153234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/2009/06/midsummer.html' title='Midsummer'/><author><name>Ravenstar</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14573180910618244434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/SzEy2Az-GFI/AAAAAAAAAIE/tYOAOF2h4Jg/S220/Spellbound_by%2520Anne%2520Stokes.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/Sj7moW4Hr_I/AAAAAAAAAC0/Lx7akrZSPGg/s72-c/stonehenge_summer_solstice.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3225521693302466252.post-6707429197052241471</id><published>2009-06-08T16:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T05:53:08.724-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Decisions</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/Si21F3HW0mI/AAAAAAAAAB0/5EUpeYywt5k/s1600-h/medium_diverging_paths.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345127445057426018" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 223px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/Si21F3HW0mI/AAAAAAAAAB0/5EUpeYywt5k/s320/medium_diverging_paths.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I made the decision, a very long time ago, not to be Catholic. My family was Catholic. My grandmother was the only one who enjoyed going to church, and I'm not really sure why. My mother never went because of the church's stand on birth control. My dad went out of obligation.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My parents forced my brother and I to go out of fear...fear that we'd go to hell if we didn't receive the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;sacraments&lt;/span&gt;. We both hated going to mass. My father took us most Sundays. The only good thing I remember is that, for a time, Sunday mass was held at the local drive in. The parish was so big, they didn't have room for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;everyone&lt;/span&gt; in the actual church. Well, every now and again, our car would end up right next to my current heart &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;throb's&lt;/span&gt; family car. I'd spend the whole time looking at him through the little mirror I carried in my purse. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My brother and I complained more and more about going to church as we got older. My parents said we could decide not to go after we were confirmed. So, right after confirmation, at twelve or thirteen (I can't remember which,) my brother and I opted out. I've never regretted it. What &lt;em&gt;did &lt;/em&gt;bother me was I had nothing to take it's place... something to make me less fearful of the unknown. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Catholic church was supposed to make me feel like a child of god, safe and protected. I never felt that. It's hard to feel safe when everything you do might send you to hell. I never identified with the mass. Most of it was in Latin at the time. How the hell was I supposed to find meaning in something relayed in a dead language! That&lt;em&gt; really&lt;/em&gt; made no sense to me. When the church switched to English, I thought maybe things would be different. Nope...didn't help. I felt nothing, zilch, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;nada&lt;/span&gt;, as they say. So, for a long time, I just didn't think about "god."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The thing that started me searching for some deeper meaning, was my having to get out of bed, in the middle of the night, after I had been laying there wondering what was going to happen to me when I died, and walk around my room to keep the panic at bay. Was there just going to be an eternity of nothingness? I couldn't wrap my head around it. I was so frightened. I felt the fear in my core.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;In my twenties, I tried other churches of varying denominations. They all left me cold. Meanwhile, my anxiety and my fearfulness was growing by leaps and bounds. One day, I was talking to the woman who was, then, my student teacher. Today, twenty-five years later, she is one of my dearest friends. She suggested I try Transcendental Meditation (TM.) TM was the beginning of my salvation, as well as the first step of my authentic search for my truth. It gave me hope that there really was something out there in the universe with which to connect. That first hour, being initiated into TM changed my life and set me upon the path I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;tread&lt;/span&gt; to this day. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have traveled far and learned much. There is still so much more to learn. I have come to know that I do not walk my path alone. None of us do. All we have to do is reach into the darkness and feel for the hand that has been guiding us all along.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3225521693302466252-6707429197052241471?l=daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/feeds/6707429197052241471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/2009/06/decisions.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3225521693302466252/posts/default/6707429197052241471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3225521693302466252/posts/default/6707429197052241471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/2009/06/decisions.html' title='Decisions'/><author><name>Ravenstar</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14573180910618244434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/SzEy2Az-GFI/AAAAAAAAAIE/tYOAOF2h4Jg/S220/Spellbound_by%2520Anne%2520Stokes.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/Si21F3HW0mI/AAAAAAAAAB0/5EUpeYywt5k/s72-c/medium_diverging_paths.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3225521693302466252.post-9076136401435356060</id><published>2009-06-07T14:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-07T14:09:52.060-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Beginnings</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/Siwq7dhWxPI/AAAAAAAAABk/iYpelJwuRwo/s1600-h/WisdomCS.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344694058807117042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 226px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/Siwq7dhWxPI/AAAAAAAAABk/iYpelJwuRwo/s320/WisdomCS.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am so excited to have a blog dedicated to my spiritual journey! I have a mundane blog, but I'm not comfortable expressing too much about my belief system there. People I work with read it. I'm a teacher in a small, rather conservative town, and, unfortunately, I presently feel the need to remain anonymous. I intend to change that, little by little.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I moved to this town a little less than a year ago. There are Pagans here. There is a metaphysical store downtown. The owner has a small back room where the Wicca merchandise is kept. It is a lovely little room...beautifully decorated. It's just too bad it needs to be made less obvious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is my aspiration and ambition, to begin to dispel the misinterpretations of the old ways. I would like to give classes regarding the only form of spirituality that has ever made sense to me. As a teacher, I work with many teenage girls who could benefit from learning about goddess archetypes and how they can be made relevant in one's life today. The girls I'm seeing need a sense of the sacred feminine. They need to learn how to be strong, independent women, connected to the source of us all. What's so weird about that? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(Image - Nene Thomas - She allows personal usage of her artwork - Title: &lt;em&gt;Wisdom&lt;/em&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3225521693302466252-9076136401435356060?l=daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/feeds/9076136401435356060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/2009/06/beginnings.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3225521693302466252/posts/default/9076136401435356060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3225521693302466252/posts/default/9076136401435356060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daughterofdemeter.blogspot.com/2009/06/beginnings.html' title='Beginnings'/><author><name>Ravenstar</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14573180910618244434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/SzEy2Az-GFI/AAAAAAAAAIE/tYOAOF2h4Jg/S220/Spellbound_by%2520Anne%2520Stokes.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JGNU0QY_8fk/Siwq7dhWxPI/AAAAAAAAABk/iYpelJwuRwo/s72-c/WisdomCS.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
