My word for today is tenderness. In these difficult times we all need to give and receive as much tenderness as possible.
Tenderness is to be considerate, protective, solicitous… expressing gentle emotions…loving…sympathy or sentimentality.
Whether your interaction be in person, by phone, or on the internet try a little tenderness. You will be rewarded.
The days are long, the tasks are many, and I find myself rising early and going to sleep late…and dreaming. At first I am too physically tired to even try to remember my dreams, but one night I awake in a panic. I must pay attention to these dreams, which I know I have before. I get up and walk to the table, take a drink from a cup of water, return to my bed trying to relax and return to the land of dreams. This takes some time, but finally I feel my body floating and know I am in a suspended trance.
Walking along a beautiful white sandy beach I see the intensely blue sky overhead and green trees growing almost to the surf line. Above the trees are more forests and beyond the hills and mountains. There does not seem to be anyone about. In spite of being alone, the freshness of the breeze, the sweet smell of the sea water and the tantalizing fragrance of the pine trees wrap me in a soft protective blanket. There are no worries here, no work, no lessons… A large lack bird flies over my head and toward an opening in the trees, cawing to me to follow. The bird flies over again when I do not move, and the again until I walk toward the path the bird has shown me. It is cool under the trees…A real contrast to the warmth of the sand. Still the bird flies ahead as I follow. Approaching a small open glen filled with multicolored wild flowers and sweet-smelling grasses, I see the bird perched on the highest branch of a colorful bush unknown to me. I take several steps back, heeding the warning. These flowers may be beautiful, but I surmise they may be poison. “Thank you for the warning, my feathered friend,” I say, looking toward the bird. He caws again and flies into another grove of trees. Again I follow. I lose the bird as I climb a steeper path. The trees are closer together here and it becomes quite dark. Stumbling, I fall to the ground. Lifting my eyes I see Manton hanging from a tree. “Oh Goddess, what has happened to Manton?” I put my hand on Manton”s leg, but his body is cold. “Noooo! Nooo!”
ZARDA is Book 1 in the Journey series. It is available on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and Book Baby as a paperback or ebook.
Thanks for reading.
Reentering the village center, I find it alive with people, mostly women. They are talking, laughing, sharing stories at the well, mending, chasing children or mixing dough for bread. I smile. They nod back. Passing by them I disappear into the guest house near the east side of the town.
Oh, it feels good to be alone again. There have been so many new experiences I am unable to assimilate them all. I must rest and try to listen to my inner spirit and see what I am to do. It is rather alarming to feel my body’s reaction to Manton. How can I be so strongly drawn to a stranger? Is he a stranger? Perhaps we met in another life? He makes me feel more alive than anyone ever before. Is this love? Rhiannon had spoken of love. “You cannot force love. You must let love come to you…” I was taken unawares by Manton. I quiver remembering his touch…his kiss.
ZARDA is Book 1 in the Journey series. It is available to buy on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and BookBaby as a paperback or ebook.
Thanks for reading!
Walking on, I resist the urge to look back. The sun, the excitement and the physical exertion finally take their toll and I trip over the small root of a tree that has emerged into the narrow foot path. As I fall, I furtively look behind, but the sun’s glare prevents me from seeing the familiar gates of home.
Lying on the ground, I recite the chant of initiates and wait for an answer.
Wheel, wheel spinning, spinning. Wizard, wizard grinning, grinning. What will be my future fate? What lies for me beyond the gate?
Wheel, wheel spinning, spinning. Wizard, wizard grinning, grinning. What will be my future fate? What lies for me beyond the gate?
The rumble in my belly reminds me I have not eaten. Wanting to remedy that, I shift my body to lean against the trunk of a large tree. My eyes are attracted to the exposed root that caused my fall and I gently stroke the top part of the root and then the top of my head where the blood is still drying. the sun is full upon my face. The warmth is soothing and friendly to my body.
Then I remember the spinning wheel and a fragment returns to me from a dream. “Your task is died within the yarrow.” What does it mean?…………………………………..
My novel, ZARDA, is available on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and Book Baby as an ebook or paperback.
Today is the final day of my Woman Rites. For Nineteen life years I have followed the tradition of the Goddess Nede, my family, and the Temple preparing for my woman’s journey. Each new life year since I was nine, Morrigan, our Priestess, has given me a task to learn, practice and share at the Temple. First I helped the Temple teachers with the young ones. Then Morrigan took into the woods and fields to recognize and gather herbs and wild plants used for healing. I have become an above average horsewoman, become proficient with the bow, sword, and hand to hand combat under the tutelage of my father King Hector. In the Temple kitchen I worked long days preparing nourishing meals. Morrigan instructed me in prayer rituals, winemaking, dress, bathing, housekeeping, fire, and sacred sex. My favorite, though, was being trained as a Temple dancer. What joy there is in rhythmic movement. These last two moons I have fasted, chanted, meditated, danced, and found my silent times. I feel clear, strong, and full of the Goddess spirit. This is the culmination of my life’s preparation under Morrigan, my teacher, Rhiannon, my mother, and my father, Hector. Soon my journey toward womanhood will begin. I will travel beyong these familiar walls…………….
ZARDA is available on Amazon, Barnes and Noble and Book Baby as an ebook or paper back.
I love old books. And flea markets. Being connected to the history of other people through their valuable treasures is very comforting to me. The seller talks to you of family, when the item was bought, how the new puppy broke the fourth cup of a beautiful breakfast set bought at great personal sacrifice, and why did grandma ever think they would like a purple platter with white roses that she made as her first senior citizen project!
That’s what browsing in thrift shops, book sales, and antique stores is like. Used bookstores are the best. As I gently caress the faded cover of a poetry volume published in England, 1964, and read the inscription…”To Helen, in memory of our youngest”, I stand with Helen mourning the baby who died of flu that winter. The wee babe cried until exhausted. Helen bathed her daughter with cool cloths, held her to her breast, and walked the dark death corridor praying to the Great Goddess and Mary and the Queen to spare this one red-haired angel. However, dawn brought stillness to the child, emptiness to Helen, and the doctor’s steps, all to late to lock the gate to the nether world, if ever he could have. CONNECTION…………
This is the beginning of the Preface to my novel ZARDA.
ZARDA is available on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and Book Baby, as an ebook or paperback.
My novel ZARDA is available on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and Book Baby. Both ebook and paperback.
Here is the blurb on the back cover:
My name is Zarda…I was chosen by the Goddess…Love will guide me. I will love all who cross my journey’s path. This is a good day to be reborn as a strong female and begin my foretold journey into womanhood. This is a good day to face the unknown.
Zarda represents Every-Woman in this mystical magical journey of spirit. Chosen by Arduina, the Moon Goddess, she leaves home after years of grooming and training by her Temple teacher, her loving mother, and her caring father. Zarda is charged to experience both the wonderful and the terrible events women have survived since the beginning. Always caring, always loving, she touches all she meets with her loving truth. She knows she is not born a woman. She must become one.
Woman is different.
Female is cyclical. That is a suppressed idea. Every 28 days our bodies remind us that we are bound to our biological selves and that it cannot be ignored. Of that 28 day moon cycle about 5 of those days is spent in the menses period itself. That leaves 23 days.
Of that 23 days about 7 days is spent in mood and physical changes in the body in preparation for the menstrual period. Elation, depression, tears, breast tenderness, bloating, heaviness all indicate a change. That leaves 16 days.
Of those 16 days about 8 of those is spent in a state of sexual excitement and expectation.
That leaves 8 days out of every 28 in a productive period where our bodies’ biological function is not controlling our lives.
Amazing we do so well!
Possession is an insidious concept.
We think we own our parents, our children, our lovers when the only thing we own is ourselves. Somehow, when some cultural myth or psychological weakness creeps to our brain we are convinced that our lovers or children or parents don’t love us unless we have their exclusive attention. Yet we esteem most those who allow us freedom to grow and share.
How do we fall into the trap of possession? It is a trap that crushes us in its vice where we struggle to be free of the pain and restriction. If we are lucky, someone will spring the trap with love, and licking our wounds we will continue to love and grow. Uncrippled.
There are moments when analytical, logical thought seems irrational. Those moments seem most apparent in intimate relationships.
What we feel for the other person should be the overriding concern. Not who or what or how they are. That is simple and straightforward, but somehow it gets mixed up and feeling is not enough, or at least, not the only thing.
We talk, we listen, we analyze, we reflect. That is the problem. We reflect and try to recapture the feeling and in so doing, we think. Why?
authorgwendolyncurrannet 