Lara Vesta's Blog, page 15

Ceremony 6: Choosing Happiness

Last night I dreamed the moon was full and in my yard.  Much of the garden was in shadow and I was afraid.  But I stepped through it, moving into the light, opening my arms to receive.

I see each new moon as a beginning, and each full moon as an opportunity, a reminder to dwell on the beauty, to honor the sadness, for they are both--so often--one in the same.

My divorce six years ago was no more or less heartbreaking than any other.  But parting from my children to rejoin the workforce two hours away from their hometown, that was pain beyond any I'd ever known.  All circumstances have led to here, and here is a pretty great place, this time in my life. But it wouldn't have happened if I hadn't consciously chosen happiness, made it a practice, ritualized it until I could believe in it again.

Five years ago I walked the streets on the edge of Forest Grove, the town where I lived and taught.  I was in a bad way all around, still parted from my kids except for every other weekend and half of every vacation, not nearly enough time.  The guilt was deadening.  I was working three jobs in addition to my teaching, and still struggling to gain any financial footing, to create a home for my children.  To top things off, I was in a relationship that I still can't write about, but maybe will someday, one filled with great passion and insurmountable barriers.  As I walked I cried fat hot tears.  I knew I couldn't do it anymore, "this", whatever "this" was, was killing me.

Maybe I've told this story before.  In my life now it is THE story, the one I must write and speak and breathe again and again in many incarnations.  For me, that day was a new moon, the dark that is beginning.  I prayed in the way that requires no name, sobbing for a sign.  And, on the dirty sidewalk beneath decaying leaves, appeared a heart.  A cardstock heart.  It said:  I decided right there that I didn't want to be sad any more.  I was choosing to be happy, in spite of it all.  I decided to choose love.  I had love in my life, lots of it, friends and family, colleagues and students.  I needed to feed that love, tend it like a fire, so that it would grow warm.  

And I chose to love myself.  Even when it was hard.  Even when I was lonely, scared, angry or despairing I could choose gentle words and loving thoughts.  It was a challenge, but those choices and their attendant blessings gave me the strength to make healthy, positive changes for myself and my children.  

My life now looks very different, and I couldn't have imagined this life on that day five years ago.  On the full moon I like to remind myself that even in the darkest hours of our poverty, we can find abundance, of spirit, of courage, of love.  It is inside us, every day, and we get to choose it in each moment. A Full Moon Ritual for Abundance and Love This may be done on the night directly before the Full Moon, or on the night of the Full Moon.  I have a moon cycle badge on this blog for reference.

Light a candle or set a ritual space apart from your usual routine.  Sometimes for me this looks like retreating to my bedroom with the door shut and a promise I'll be out in fifteen minutes.  

You will need a pen (or colored markers), some paper (thicker drawing paper has a lovely texture) and a writing surface.  

Make a heart in the center of your paper.  List inside the heart three things you wish to experience in abundance.  Love may be one, money, peace, joy...you can be general or specific.  Feel where you experience the desire for these things.  Where in your body?  Does it feel open or closed?

And here's the creative part:  begin writing all of the ways you ALREADY HAVE these things in your life.

Stretch it.  If I want abundant money, then I might write about all of the resources I have already in my life.  For example, I have lots of leaves to rake for mulch in my garden.  I have words I can write and pictures I can draw.  What do you have in abundance?  Maybe you wish for romantic love, but you have loads of friends:  that's love in abundance.  Maybe you wish for abundant friendship, but you really love what you do for work...that's love in abundance.

Fill the page up as much as you can.  Pause.  Take a deep breath.  Really allow yourself to see all that you have in your life.  Bless your blessings, large and small.

Then go outside.  Face the moon (if it is visible, if not, use your imagination.  Open your arms wide, open your hands.  Let the moonlight pour over you.  Imagine you are surrounded by all of your blessings.  

Make an offering of something that keeps you from appreciating what you have.  Give your fear, doubt, anger or sadness dissolve in the moonlight.  Commit to feeding the love and abundance you already possess.  

Then end by putting you heart map in a safe spot and saying a word or gesture that makes you feel at peace.

Ceremony 5: How to Make a Vision Board

This week I had the opportunity to dream with a circle of amazing women, to vision the future year.  We made vision boards, an activity that has many variations, but I want to present it here as I have learned it, as a ceremony with creative release. “Nourish beginnings, let us nourish beginnings.  Not all things are blest, but the seeds of all things are blest. The blessing is in the seed.”     -- Muriel Rukeyser, Elegy in Joy

Gather Your Materials:  
Ms. S showed up to the potluck with a suitcase on roller wheels filled with magazines, calendars and greeting cards, gold leaf, scissors and glue.  The backing can be cardboard, a box, a paper bag.

Light a candle, ground and center.  
In the divine light of Ms. C's attic room we sorted image and color.  The trick with vision is to allow.  This is an activity for the unconscious to rise.  What are you attracted to, what repels you?  Let the images, shapes and colors that speak to you mass in a pile.  I like to rip the pages free, cutting at this point reduces the rhythm and flow.

A note on words.
Notice if words help or hinder your process.  Sometimes I like words to balance and focus the images I choose.  Sometimes I feel like they are an impediment.

Let the images, colors and patterns guide you.
Allow the vision to express itself.  As your symbols and colors coalesce, you will begin to notice themes.  Don't worry about making something "pretty" or "good".  The nature of your vision is coming through you.  Release expectations and focus on opening your breath, your body, your heart.
You will know when your vision is complete.
When you are done, you will know and feel the change.  Close the creating ceremony with a prayer or phrase.  I like to use, "and so it is," sweet, simple and positive.

Place your vision in an area where it is highly visible, a bookshelf, a bedroom wall, in the bathroom, over the kitchen sink.   Make offerings to your vision, meditate on it and with it.  Dream with it at night.

Leave the vision exposed for a period of time.  
A month.  A moon cycle.  A season.  Then, when it is time, prepare the release. Burn it.
When your time period is up, prepare to burn the vision board.  This release is an exercise in trust, in letting go of desires and believing that the vision is alive within you, within the world.  If it feels uncomfortable to burn something you have lovingly created, sit with that a while.  Know that you can always create more, and that each expression will define a new beauty for your experience.

Make the burning a ritual.  Choose a time where you can be alone or are in a supportive environment.  Choose a method of burning appropriate to the vision, a fireplace to represent the heath of the heart, a pit at the beach for infinite abundance.  Have fun with the symbolism.

As you light the flames, speak words of affirmation and blessing to your vision.  Love the vision, love the release.

Ceremony 5: Release the Vision

This week I also had the opportunity to dream with a circle of amazing women, to vision the future year.  We made vision boards, an activity that has many variations, but I want to present it here as I have learned it, as a ceremony with creative release. “Nourish beginnings, let us nourish beginnings.  Not all things are blest, but the seeds of all things are blest. The blessing is in the seed.”     -- Muriel Rukeyser, Elegy in Joy

Gather Your Materials:  
Ms. S showed up to the potluck with a suitcase on roller wheels filled with magazines, calendars and greeting cards, gold leaf, scissors and glue.  The backing can be cardboard, a box, a paper bag.

Light a candle, ground and center.  
In the divine light of Ms. C's attic room we sorted image and color.  The trick with vision is to allow.  This is an activity for the unconscious to rise.  What are you attracted to, what repels you?  Let the images, shapes and colors that speak to you mass in a pile.  I like to rip the pages free, cutting at this point reduces the rhythm and flow.

A note on words.
Notice if words help or hinder your process.  Sometimes I like words to balance and focus the images I choose.  Sometimes I feel like they are an impediment.

Let the images, colors and patterns guide you.
Allow the vision to express itself.  As your symbols and colors coalesce, you will begin to notice themes.  Don't worry about making something "pretty" or "good".  The nature of your vision is coming through you.  Release expectations and focus on opening your breath, your body, your heart.
You will know when your vision is complete.
When you are done, you will know and feel the change.  Close the creating ceremony with a prayer or phrase.  I like to use, "and so it is," sweet, simple and positive.

Place your vision in an area where it is highly visible, a bookshelf, a bedroom wall, in the bathroom, over the kitchen sink.   Make offerings to your vision, meditate on it and with it.  Dream with it at night.

Leave the vision exposed for a period of time.  
A month.  A moon cycle.  A season.  Then, when it is time, prepare the release. Burn it.
When your time period is up, prepare to burn the vision board.  This release is an exercise in trust, in letting go of desires and believing that the vision is alive within you, within the world.  If it feels uncomfortable to burn something you have lovingly created, sit with that a while.  Know that you can always create more, and that each expression will define a new beauty for your experience.

Make the burning a ritual.  Choose a time where you can be alone or are in a supportive environment.  Choose a method of burning appropriate to the vision, a fireplace to represent the heath of the heart, a pit at the beach for infinite abundance.  Have fun with the symbolism.

As you light the flames, speak words of affirmation and blessing to your vision.  Love the vision, love the release.

Ceremony 4: I Love My (self), Period.

"How might it have been different for you,
if, on your first menstrual day your mother had given you
a bouquet of flowers and taken you to lunch
and then the two of you had gone
to meet your father at the jeweller,
where your ears were pierced,
and your father bought you your first pair of earings,
and then you went with a few of your friends and your mother's friends to get your first lip colouring;

and then you went,
for the very first time,
to the Women's Lodge,
to learn
the Wisdom of the Women?

How might your life be different?"

(From Circle of Stones - by Judith Duerk)
I love my blood.  

I love that every month I release, physically, spiritually and creatively.  

I love that within me, within all of us, somewhere, is a memory of being carried, nourished and protected within the tremendous power of our mother's womb. 

I love my womb, my ovaries, my cycles, and I love how learning about my cyclic potential, reserving space for my experience each month, and honoring all women with these practices has absolutely transformed my living and experience.  

When I live in accord with my natural rhythms I am energized, engaged, creative, super happy and grateful at each turn.

Then, there's this week. I caught the flu.  Long story, but I've been working through some lingering toxins and negativity from my most recent transition.  I needed to sit, be, and purge.  Then my husband got sick.  And my daughter.  And today my stepdaughter is home with a new virus.  Meanwhile I've been bleeding.  My usual practices and habits, so carefully built over years, were flushed away.  I was living in the old way, a pattern of demand and denial.  Where what presses on us requires that we deny ourselves, the innateness of our womanhood.  And you know what?  It sucks.

Can anyone relate?

I have two daughters and a son.  Soon the girls will be bleeding, too, and we've had a lot of talk about rites of passage, rituals for cycles, what menstruation means, why it is vital to the species, that sort of thing.

The more we talk the more I feel my edges pressed, and look to role models for vibrant femininity. For women's community.  For gestation of this new and necessary vision:

Where we all love our bodies. No matter what.  And support the creating of a world that acknowledges this blessing, this inheritance, this power. Love your body, love your story, love your life.  That is the Moon Divas mantra.  The body is the place of first permission.  The story is so often held by the body, the life by the story.  They shape to fit each other like nesting dolls.

The principles behind The Moon Divas Guidebook were inspired by work with hundreds of women.  Deva and I were consistently teaching not what we were "experts" at, but what we most needed to learn, remember and practice.  The tools we used were not new or fancy, most of them were shaped by the wisdom of our learning communities, but they work.  In five years I have seen so many women grow from self-hatred to self-love in the space of a weekend, a semester, even a day.  It is amazing!  

I want to grow this power.  I want to grow this love.  I want to grow it with you.  I'm imagining, dreaming now, but in the coming weeks will be opening a space for community here.  So that we can share and make together. A ceremony for self-love:  

Every time you bathe, bless your body.  You may choose your own words, or use the Guidebook Prayer for Whole Body Blessing below. 
Every time you bleed, bless your blood.  Allow yourself to observe your flow, even for a few minutes, without obstruction.  Make a mini-celebration, follow through no matter what (I locked myself in the bathroom this weekend and read for an hour alone...sheer bliss!).  

These two practices are powerful enough to change everything, your life, the world.  
If it seems simple, that's because it is.  

If it seems impossible, that's what we've been taught. The following site has incredible resources and links for exploration and education.  Delve.  Believe.  Be loved.

Yoni's Menstrual Lodge:  Great links and resources for all things menstrational (yep, made up that word ;)

Guidebook Release: It's a Party!!

At last, at last, it is time to celebrate!!!

Won't you gather with me Saturday, December 8th from 7-9pm at People's Co-Op in the Ama-zing Community Room (if you haven't been there it's like a dance hall, only sweeter).

I'm bringing:
Delicious snacks and tea.Stacks of books to sign.Some live musical guests.Art supplies and stuff for kids.A few tricks up my sleeve and treats for my beloved supporters.My family :)!All you need to do is show up!  All ages, stages and superpowers are welcome.  Do RSVP before December 1st so I know how much food to bring.

Love love love to see you there.  I have more brewing, and a ceremony due....all will be revealed soon!

Because We Can

Ms. Elizabeth, above, and a considerable amount of women and men are responsible for our right to vote.  What follows is illuminating, a powerful torch to the psyche of 1848 America.  Pop quiz:  When did women earn the sacred right of the electorate in all states?  1920.  Do I need to mention that this gave the right only to white women?  Change takes many hands, those of privilege, those of the oppressed.  And change takes time.


Exercise your rights.  They were earned by blood.


REPORT OF THE WOMAN'S RIGHTS CONVENTION,
Held at SENECA FALLS, N.Y., July 19th and 20th, 1848. 
ROCHESTER: PRINTED BY JOHN DICK AT THE NORTH STAR OFFICE

DECLARATION OF SENTIMENTS

When, in the course of human events, it becomes necessary for one portion of the family of man to assume among the people of the earth a position different from that which they have hitherto occupied, but one to which the laws of nature and of nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes that impel them to such a course.

We hold these truths to be self-evident; that all men and women are created equal; that they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights; that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness; that to secure these rights governments are instituted, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed. Whenever any form of government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the right of those who suffer from it to refuse allegiance to it, and to insist upon the institution of a new government, laying its foundation on such principles, and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their safety and happiness. Prudence indeed, will dictate that governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience hath shown that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable, than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they were accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute despotism, it is their duty to throw off such government, and to provide new guards for their future security. Such has been the patient sufferance of the women under this government, and such is now the necessity which constrains them to demand the equal station to which they are entitled.

The history of mankind is a history of repeated injuries and usurpations on the part of man toward woman, having in direct object the establishment of an absolute tyranny over her. To prove this, let facts be submitted to a candid world.

He has never permitted her to exercise her inalienable right to elective franchise.

He has compelled her to submit to laws, in the formation of which she had no voice.

He has withheld from her rights which are given to the most ignorant and degraded me † both natives and foreigners.

Having deprived her of this first right of a citizen, the elective franchise, thereby leaving her without representation in the halls of legislation, he has oppressed her on all sides.

He has made her, if married, in the eye of the law, civilly dead.

He has taken from her all right in property, even to the wages she earns.

He has made her, morally, an irresponsible being, as she can commit many crimes with impunity, provided they be done in the presence of her husband. In the covenant of marriage, she is compelled to promise obedience to her husband, he becoming, to all intents and purposes, her master - the law giving him power to deprive her of her liberty, and to administer chastisement.

He has so framed the laws of divorce, as to what shall be the proper causes, and in case of separation, to whom the guardianship of the children shall be given, as to be wholly regardless of the happiness of women - the law, in all cases, going upon a false supposition of the supremacy of man, and giving all power into his hands.

After depriving her of all rights as a married woman, if single, and the owner of property, he has taxed her to support a government which recognizes her only when her property can be made profitable to it.

He has monopolized nearly all the profitable employments, and from those she is permitted to follow, she receives but a scanty remuneration. He closes against her all the avenues to wealth and distinction which he considers most honorable to himself. As a teacher of theology, medicine, or law, she is not known.

He has denied her the facilities for obtaining a thorough education, all colleges being closed against her.

He allows her in Church, as well as State, but a subordinate position, claiming Apostolic authority for her exclusion from the ministry, and, with some exceptions, from any public participation in the affairs of the Church.

He has created a false public sentiment by giving to the world a different code of morals for men and women, by which moral delinquencies which exclude women from society, are not only tolerated, but deemed of little account in man.

He has usurped the prerogative of Jehovah himself, claiming it as his right to assign for her a sphere of action, when that belongs to her conscience and to her God.

He has endeavored, in every way that he could, to destroy her confidence in her own powers, to lessen her self-respect, and to make her willing to lead a dependent and abject life.

Now, in view of this entire disenfranchisement of one-half the people of this country, their social and religious degradation, - in view of the unjust laws above mentioned, and because women do feel themselves aggrieved, oppressed, and fraudulently deprived of their most sacred rights, we insist that they have immediate admission to all rights and privileges which belong to them as citizens of the United States.

In entering upon the great work before us, we anticipate no small amount of misconception, misrepresentation, and ridicule; but we shall use every instrumentality within our power to effect our object. We shall employ agents, circulate tracts, petition the State and National legislatures, and endeavor to enlist the pulpit and the press in our behalf. We hope this Convention will be followed by a series of Conventions embracing every part of the country.

Firmly relying upon the final triumph of the Right and the True, we do this day affix our signatures to this declaration.

Lucretia Mott, Harriet Cady Eaton, Margaret Pryor, Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Eunice Newton Foote, Mary Ann MêClintock, Margaret Schooley, Martha C. Wright, Jane C. Hunt, Amy Post, Catharine F. Stebbins, Mary Ann Frink, Lydia Mount, Delia Mathews, Catharine C. Paine, Elizabeth W. MêClintock, Malvina Seymour, Phebe Mosher, Catharine Shaw, Deborah Scott, Sarah Hallowell, Mary MêClintock, Mary Gilbert, Sophrone Tayor, Cynthia Davis, Hannah Plant, Lucy Jones, Sarah Whitney, Mary H. Hallowell, Elizabeth Conklin, Sally Pitcher, Mary Conklin, Susan Quinn, Mary S. Mirror, Phebe King, Julia Ann Drake, Charlotte Woodard, Martha Underhill, Dorothy Mathews, Eunice Barker, Sarah R. Woods, Lydia Gild, Sarah Hoffman, Elizabeth Leslie, Martha Ridley, Rachel D. Bonnel, Betsey Tewksbury, Rhoda Palmer, Margaret Jenkins, Cynthia Fuller, Mary Martin, P. A. Culvert, Susan R. Doty, Rebecca Race, Sarah A. Mosher, Mary E. Vail, Lucy Spalding, Lavinia Latham, Sarah Smith, Eliza Martin, Maria E. Wilbur, Elizabeth D. Smith, Caroline Barker, Ann Porter, Experience Gibbs, Antoinette E. Segur, Hannah J. Latham, Sarah Sisson.

The following are the names of the gentlemen present in favor of the movement:

Richard P. Hunt, Samuel D. Tillman, Justin Williams, Elisha Foote, Frederick Douglass, Henry W. Seymour, Henry Seymour, David Salding, William G. Barker, Elias J. Doty, John Jones, William S. Dell, James Mott, William Burroughs, Robert Smalldridge, Jacob Matthews, Charles L. Hoskins, Thomas MêClintock, Saron Phillips, Jacob Chamberlain, Jonathan Metcalf, Nathan J. Milliken, S. E. Woodworth, Edward F. Underhill, George W. Pryor, Joel Bunker, Isaac Van Tassel, Thomas Dell, E. W. Capron, Stephen Shear, Henry Hatley, Azaliah Schooley.

Ceremony 3: Honoring the Ancestors

(Above photo of the aforementioned Nana Louise, circa 1923.)

I'm noticing a theme in these ceremonies already, one of lineage and legacy and linkage through time.  Wendell Berry once said if you don't know where you are, you don't know who you are, and I believe that though his meaning had to do with place (a topic for a future ceremony) this lesson applies to history, time and family.
In this season, it is said, the veils between the worlds are thin, and I once heard a story about America's streets being strewn with unhappy spirits.  It is not the life they left that leaves our ghosts bereft, but the lack of remembrance and honoring.

We, too, suffer from that lack, and the continuity a ritual celebration of the ancestors may offer.

This ceremony is commonplace in many cultures and traditions worldwide.  It is ancient.  There are beautiful examples in the Dia de los Muertos celebrations, in the ofrendas and altars that have appeared even along my street in the Portland rain.  In our house we borrow from my pagan roots and the central altar in the living room is transformed by photos of our beloved dead: Those long departed, those never known, animals we've loved and lost.  I bring out the symbols of my familial history, my Great Grandmother Irene's outrageous costume jewelry, Aunt Nelly's shoe button hook.  And I offer evidence of the season and passage, a bouquet of Queen Anne's Lace gone to seed, gourds, the last garden flowers, a bundle of beach glass and stone.

The building of the altar is the beginning of the ceremony.  I recommend a music of your lineage (I listen to Annborg Lien's Baba Yaga to honor my Nordic family), a darkening hour.  The supplies are up to you, though my guess is you have everything you need on hand.  The only altar purchases I make annually are candles.  We also cook food for our altar, sweet treats for my children's Mexican Nana who loved sugar, coffee for my Grandpa Rosenlund.  When the space is set, I gather my family and we light the candles.  Then we sit with the ancestors in our midst, drinking wine, cocoa or tea, telling stories about what we remember.

I like to keep the altar up through Thanksgiving, making present our gratitude.  For all our ancestors have offered us, a reminder that this cycle is a blessing, t My husband's grandparents, Gene and Roy Ozenne.  Aren't they astoundingly beautiful? The altar, complete.

Ceremony 2: First Silver, Honoring Middle Age

I have the hair of my Nana Louise.  It is thick and curly, though where hers was a pure red mine runs to strawberry.  The genes for this hair are direct, passing from Louise to my Grandpa, to my father, and to me.  We all share the same wave at the back of our heads, symmetrical when viewed from behind, and by this legacy I can also see I will have hair, eventually, that is  elegantly white.

Last year I found my first silver hair, high on my crown.  And honestly, I wanted to celebrate.  I thought about creating the following ceremony many times, and this fall, after reading a facebook post by the lovely Katy Schultz about her first silver hair, I am inspired again to craft a ceremony embracing entrance into that stage of life (most forbiddingly) labeled middle age.   

The first silver ceremony is about ownership and an earned self-regard.  It is a rite of passage, and, while minimal compared to the journey to motherhood or the end of menopause, these small rites are what prepare us, ultimately, for the larger.  In a rite of passage, we bow to irrevocable change.  Never again will I be the woman without silver in her hair.  Time moves, and so do we. This is one example of a simple first silver ceremony.  There are infinite variations.  Be attentive to the symbols, colors and environments your own psyche is drawn to, and modify accordingly.  This ceremony may be used to honor a first at any age, and adapted to fit the life cycles of either gender.

Collect in advance:  three symbols of what you leave behind as you pass into the next phase.  Also, three symbols or tools you wish to embrace.  A skein of silver (or grey) thread, special scissors or a knife for cutting.  Apples or pears.

Begin at a turning time.  This may be on a large scale or small: the seasonal shift from summer to autumn, or winter to spring, a full or new moon, at dawn or dusk.  Each rite of passage contains both the depth of an ending and the excitement of beginning, so your chosen ceremonial time might reflect this.  For the purposes of this ritual I'm envisioning the long twilight of late August, on the eve of a full moon rise.

Invite your community.  Maybe this is two friends, or perhaps you have a circle of people you visit with regularly.  Acknowledgement of your shift in status by the community is essential to any rite of passage.  We may have many rites in solitude, but those marking life's passages usually require some sort of recognition.

For community I would choose three women I admire.  One in the early phases of adulthood, before marriage, career and children.  One in the phase I am aspiring to, a friend or family member comfortable and powerful in her middle years.  And I would include an elder, someone who has the wisdom of all phases within her.

Gather in a circle.  Breathe together, ground and center.  Here is beautiful grounding tool gifted to me in ceremony by a close friend:  stand in a close circle with your left hand on the shoulder of the woman in front of you, your right hand between her shoulder blades.  Breathe together, or you may chant or sing the following song (from "Singing for the Soul" by Jan Phillips):

We're a river of birds in migration
A nation of women with wings.

When you feel grounded, turn inward.  Acknowledge where you are on earth by feeling the four cardinal directions, the sky above you, the earth below.  

Speak your intentions for the ceremony.  What does this turning phase mean to you?  What are you leaving behind?  Use the symbols to illustrate your letting go.  For example, I am leaving behind my need for approval from authority, and therefore might choose an old letter of recommendation to burn as a release.  

Then speak to what you wish to bring in, or meet in the days ahead.  If I want to increase my sense of abundance I might choose to spill grains of rice over the feet of those present, each grain representing a seed of potential nourishment or material wealth.

You might wish to have your community tell stories, about their experiences of middle age, or about what they have witnessed in your growing life, where they would like to see you travel in the next phases to come.  As each individual shares a story, the silver thread is wound around their left wrist one time, until the circle is woven together as one.  Sit for a moment in silence, all literally connected.

As you cut the thread to separate the individuals, imagine all of the women through time, the silver threads of their wisdom.  Honor the women who came before you, and those who stand with you.  We are all bound by the same threads, and this one is the thread of time.  We are alone and together, both.

Before you close, share the apple or pear, or some other food symbolic of life in its fullness, the days at their sweetest.  Plant the apple seeds and bless them.  Then, have a member of the circle introduce you by your name and with a title (like, I present to you Lara of the Silver Hair).  Then pass through the hands of your community out of the circle, dancing to the rhythm of new in your life.

Welcome home.

Ceremony 1: The Labyrinth Run

Three things I may have learned in the past six years:
We are always in transition.
Obstacles are opportunities.
Trust the path.

The last is the lesson of the labyrinth, the sacred walk.  This past week I found myself again telling the story of Ariadne (also found in this essay), remembering again the journey, the power of story, of form, to align us with a greater truth.  The labyrinth teaches the path, and I've been lucky enough to live or work in close proximity to many of these sacred tools, approaching them in meditative reverence, taking--in the course of half an hour--a walk that leaves me feeling changed.

But my favorite labyrinth ritual has a note of mirth.  And a blessed few simple steps.

First, locate your labyrinth.  Here's one of my favorite tools via the Celebrant Fundamentals course:
The Labyrinth Locator
Plug in your location and it will offer labyrinth options in your area. 

Then, find a time when the labyrinth is least likely to be occupied.  Early mornings have served me well.

Approach the labyrinth as you would any sacred space, with breath, intention, reverence.   I find it helpful to close my eyes at the entrance and make an offering--a prayer, a piece of stone, a feather--and ask permission to enter.

Then, run.

Yes, run.  

Let me backtrack for a moment and say I never would have run a labyrinth if it weren't for a morning at Breitenbush Hot Springs, resting on the river bank with Deva Munay.  We were short on time, but had promised ourselves a labyrinth walk.  The labyrinth, made of stone on river sand, was empty.  It was summer.  We removed our shoes, and ran.

I can't describe the effects.  Running the labyrinth has a lightness and simultaneous depth.  It is the paradox, both orienting and disorienting.  I recommend a pause at the sacred center, eyes closed, another offering or prayer.

Maybe you will choose to slowly make your way out.  Maybe you will dance your way back into ordinary time.

At the exit, offer thanks.  Then write to me and say what you've discovered.

Circle of Strength: Spirituality & Health

Last month I had the honor of writing a guest post for Spirituality and Health magazine.  I chose a topic close to my heart, the need for support in times of transition.  Creating support is external and certainly essential, but remembering all of the factors that surround and nurture us is an accessible--and less labor intensive--means of personal reinforcement.

The response to the post has been overwhelmingly positive, and has inspired me to begin a new series here.  Each Wednesday I will post a sustenance ritual that fits the following description:  simple, easy and nourishing.  These everyday rituals help us build new traditions, weave the days with spirited/spiritual life.   All together, they might be a practice, a sequence, or a rhythm to even the uncertainty in life.  May it begin with beauty.  Try the first right here:  Circle of Strength.  See you Wednesday.