Embracing the Crone & Facing the Mirror

 

My goddess for the crone:

Baba Yaga

Origin: Slavic
Influences: the harvest, life cycles, fate, death,
AKA: Jadwiga – (Jaga/Jagusia/Jadzia)
Symbols: corn sheaf, broom, mortar and pestle

This goddess is birthed in the myths and legends found in fairytales. She lives in the forest, on ground that borders life and death. Baba Yaga is a wild woman and a goddess with an unpredictable nature. It’s said that if you come upon her in the woods, she will either eat you, give you advice, or put you to work. (Let’s hope you meet her on a good day.)

Baba Yaga doesn’t fit in with mundane society and what the majority would consider the norm. She presses the envelope, shall we say. This goddess is the ultimate individualist, birthed from the dark side of the crone. This old hag is often depicted flying through the night sky in a mortar, using the pestle to steer her ship.

Cerridwen

Origin: Welsh
Influences: transformation, rebirth, inspiration, regeneration, death, knowledge, shapeshifting
Symbols: the cauldron

As in so many of the goddesses of transformation, their ability and their myths are linked to the changing of the seasons and the natural cycle of birth and death that goes with the Earth’s natural occurrences.

Cerridwen most often comes to us at times in our life when we are facing a huge transformation and challenging changes. Most often, when something new is coming on the horizon, something old must die to make room for it. This sounds so ominous and scary, but most of the time, when you really think about it and all the upheavals and changes in your own life, the “death” of something almost always comes naturally, whether this be a relationship, a career, a lifestyle, etc. Most often, in my own life when this has happened, it feels like, “Oh ya’, it was about time.”

Cerridwen and her magical Cauldron of Transformation contains the energy needed to plant seeds of inspiration that allows us to fearlessly pursue change and chase our goals.

 

How to experience the crone:

• Mentor a younger woman… 

I’ve never mentored anyone, at least not in the intentional a kindly-hand-on-the-shoulder and a deep look in the eyes way with the words, “I am going to mentor you.” I’ve received emails over the years from people who felt as though I mentored them through my websites, blogs, and books, but I don’t know if that counts.

However, this section has made me think of all the ways other people have mentored me over the years, and I can probably assume that some of them had no idea of the impact they were making, the “mentoring” they were doing.

My sixth grade teacher, Iva Harrington… such a gorgeous middle-aged lady, full figured, beautifully groomed daily with her 1960s beads and matching earrings, her red lipstick, silk stockings, and dainty feet. She couldn’t have children of her own, so she adopted two daughters.

She was a “nurturer”, and she was drawn to children, especially children who might have a different road in life than others, and one of those children was me. It’s not a huge thing, my “difference”, from the other children, just that my teen-age parents chose not to raise me, so it was my paternal grandmother who did. The other children would refer to “Mom” when talking about their home life; I referred to “Grandma”. They were puzzled.

Of course, in the conventional world of the 1960s (the hippie flower child energy hadn’t reached South Dakota yet), I was “different”, and the kids in class were keenly aware of it.

Mrs. Harrington took extra time and attention to make sure I didn’t always feel different. I adored her. She mentored me, yes, she did, in whatever sense you want to view this word.

• Start a scrapbook of your life… 

I am anticipating many happy visits to Michael’s and Hobby Lobby to leisurely meander down the aisles filled with scrap booking goodies.

This is where I wish I could insert a visual video in a book. There’s just so much “stuff” popping up in my mind: colors, textures, paste ins, add-ons, frills and furbelows, frames, glue, glitter, and stickers.

My mother gave me a scrapbook created by her Aunt Grace, my great-aunt, who took a trip around the world in the 1950s. The whole venture cost her just over $2,000.00 all those decades ago. She was a spinster schoolteacher, and she created the most wonderful scrapbook of her adventures, complete with napkins, brochures, and menus from restaurants, also photos galore – my favorite is the tiny woman with a long gray braid wrapped around her head, sitting on a camel in Egypt ahead of the Pyramids; and another of her perched with a group on a bench ahead of the Taj Mahal in Agra India. It was so much fun to read what she had written as well, about the horrific car ride through Japan, with bumpy roads and miserable conditions, and her relief when they got to their hotel. On and on it goes. It’s a time capsule.

It's so much fun to turn the pages of this scrap book, and you can “feel” how much fun it was for Aunt Grace to create it.

Yea, start a scrapbook.

• Write a bucket list… 

You’re never too old to start a bucket list. If you’re still breathing, if you’re still on your feet and mobile, if you still get up every morning and wonder what you should do, start a bucket list – then act on it.

How do I know this?... from personal experience.

“First” things I’ve done after the age of 60…

flown on a plane

seen the ocean

traveled to the Grand Canyon

moved across country

visited Los Angeles

sold a house/bought a house

Yep, start a bucket list. I’m still working on mine. As the old saying goes… “I ain’t dead yet.”

I still want to…

visit Scotland and Ireland

write a fictional novel

take classes in psychology

apply for a PI license

• Heal an estrangement… 

If you can’t heal an existing estrangement, before you or the person you’re estranged from checks out, you will regret it; and in the spirit world, they may regret it as well, for an eternity.

Why is it so hard for one party or the other to be the first to extend the olive branch, the first to say, “I’m sorry”, or the first to say, “Let’s talk”?

I was estranged from my mother when she passed, so much so that my half-sister and her dad, my stepfather, never informed me of my mother’s death. It was only through the reaching out of one of my cousins that I had never met that I learned of her passing.

My mother, who did not raise me, came into my life when I was in my early forties, already an established wife and home-schooling mother of seven children. Since that time, we have been estranged since my youngest child was five years old, and that child was seventeen at the time of my mother’s passing.

The reasons for the estrangement are mostly lost in the fog of time and seem rather silly now, but it had to do with my parents’ disapproval of my life-style choices and the way in which I chose to raise my children. I put my foot down, knowing that the results could well be I would never see my mother again, and I was right.

Do I regret my decision? Not really. I don’t regret setting healthy boundaries and maintaining them for the welfare of my family. I could not revert to the lost child my mother seemed to want or needed to encompass at that time. I could not revert to the vision she must have held of me in her mind. I was already a middle-aged woman with an established life when we connected.

I do regret the obstinacy, the lack of empathy, the incapability of accepting boundaries, and the lack of respect that made a reconciliation impossible, and I often wonder if my mother regrets that now, in the afterlife. I am inclined to believe she does – or did, and I do believe that her spirit reconnected with me after her passing and made things right.

It’s all good now.

But don’t do what we did. Heal an estrangement while both parties are alive, while you can still look each other in the eye and share a hug, while you can enjoy morning coffee together, while you can share holidays and still enjoy fun times on this earth in the physical plane.

Better late than never.

• Do something contradictory to your nature… 

I wasn’t born in the mid-west, but I spent my entire life there, and for my entire life I have always felt I was not where I was meant to be. It was a strange and disjointed feeling.

Unexpectedly, while standing in the shadows of senior citizenship, I met Bob. We had only known each other for a very short time when that little voice popped into my head. You know, that disembodied voice we’re told to listen to. It was barely perceptible at first, a whisper. It was observant and opinionated, and it was a consciousness that pointed out various discrepancies in our lives at the time.

This unusual phenomenon, mixed with a lifetime of dissatisfaction in my location, came along with some opportunities to travel and explore other parts of the country, to experience new places with awesome and intriguing ambience.

Finally, one morning, that little voice in my head popped out of my mouth, and I said, innocently enough: 

“Would you like to move to Arizona?”

The answer was “yes”, and so we did.

Source for this blog post:

The Divine Me

available @Amazon
in print & kindle

There's a little goddess in every woman... yes, there is, and you're going to find the little goddess in you with the help of this book. Take an unorthodox look at the history, myths, and legends of goddesses from around the world. Learn how to tap into their energy and harness it to aid you in your mortal journey.

Along the way, let's "Face the Mirror" , and take a good look at what you need to concentrate on to be the best you can be and let your inner goddess shine.

It's All About Your Ability to Connect

 

The following is a brief excerpt from my book, The Divine Me.  This is from a section titled "Facing the Mirror: How do you connect with your spiritual side?"  This book is available at Amazon in print and kindle.

·         Journal

I began journaling when I was twelve years old, inspired by Anne Frank.  In my twenties, my journaling was sprinkled with more literary pizazz and the influence of Anne Lindbergh and her diaries and letters. (I also wrote terrific letters, “Your writing is so vivid, makes me feel like I was there!”, so I was told.)

Sadly, along the course of life, usually as I was passing from one phase into another, I have thrown away many of my earliest journals.  However, there is a wide array of cheap spiral notebooks, leatherbound diaries, and note pads of various colors and design being held by a trusted family member, saved for the enjoyment and exploration of future generations of my family.

I do believe that the modern version of the old-fashioned idea of journaling is now called… a blog.

·         Explore a spirituality you are unfamiliar with

If you didn’t skip the introduction of this book, which I do with books sometimes, you will know that I was touched by random connections with Catholicism; the desire to embrace Judaism (that Anne Frank influence again, I was thirteen at the time); and then I stumbled into witchcraft, without really knowing what I was doing, but hey, not completely guileless either, even if we didn’t have the internet, we had movies and tv.

I was raised in an open and welcoming atmosphere of spiritual exploration and discovery.  How do you know what you believe if you’ve never studied all the options out there?

·         Get acquainted with your spirit guides

During part of my journey on this pagan path, I was introduced to two of my spirit guides, in dreams.

The dark-haired cat lady: She resided in some sort of large helter-skelter kitchen, her countertops filled with bowls and cutlery and herbs and small bottles and jars and open cupboards and pots and pans all over the place… and cats.  Cats of all colors sitting calmly on the countertops, stretched out on the floor under the table and lounging in a patch of sun by the window.  All colors and sizes, wherever you looked. Cats, cats, cats.

She was small but thick, almost elfin, and her black and gray streaked hair was a wild untamed tangled frizzy mess, her nose was large, her features coarse but pleasing, her shoulders slightly hunched, with a hint of a widow’s hump.

She wore a long boldly colored shiny silk house dress, with lots of pink and geometric shapes and greens and yellows and blues. 

As she busily tottered about her messy kitchen, seeing to the cats and the pot of steaming soup on the stove, she was talking to me, she was telling me wonderous and great things that would change my life.  With her back to me, a large wooden spoon in her hand, slowly stirring her cauldron of soup, her words flowed.  I was silent, and I listened.

The white haired goddess:

A woman was sitting on the floor a short distance from me, cross-legged, sitting so straight and tall, her back to me.  I stood watching her, fascinated by a strange glow of light shining on her, illuminating her silhouette, casting a shimmer to her very long mane of silver hair.

I was in the presence of something very powerful and very sacred, and I knew that she had something important to tell me, possibly the most important thing I would ever hear.

I leaned in, cocking my head to listen intently.  Her soft voice rose then, sounding calm and smooth, gentle and clear.  She said: “Learn to control your mind.”

·         Be still and listen to your inner voice

My inner voice has been with me since I was a very young child, only it was louder then, easier to hear.  Sometimes I heard it over the voices of people around me, and sometimes it was a whisper close to my ear.  It always made me pause, it still does; but now at my age, it comes and goes so fast, is so soft and fleeting, that I have to catch it like an elusive and mythical moth in flight.

Over the years, this voice has proven to be protective.  It has cast a light on an intuitive instinct, it has warned of impending danger; it has caused me to change a course of action; it has told many a story and revealed many secrets during tarot readings; and possibly, and most disturbingly, it has announced impending death.

When this happens, the warning of impending death, this inner voice has always used the same words: “Look, look again.”

·         Find Your Tribe

I couldn’t find my tribe, not in childhood, not in high school, not in the adult world, so I grew my own.  Six daughters and one son.

They are a tribe of mostly women, only one tall quiet man among them.  They are diverse, and intelligent, gifted, and creative.  They are uniquely independent and solitary. 

Each one has a personality that is unlike the others.  They travel different spiritual paths; they hold jobs in diverse areas of expertise; they are homeowners; apartment dwellers; and still, surprising as it may seem at my age, some are young enough to be fledglings, just learning to spread their wings.

This is my tribe.

No matter the physical distance between us; no matter the different schedules and lifestyles; no matter the amount of time that’s passed since we last talked, we can bring daily life to a pause and reconnect at will.

·         Give with no expectations

When I was eighteen, a very elderly man gifted me a beautiful sterling silver ring and bracelet of turquois.  He was my great-great Aunt’s life partner.  His name was Frank Petticord.  There was no special occasion, there was nothing expected in return.  He just saw this beautiful set of jewelry, and he thought that I should have it.

Forty-six years later, I still have the bracelet, and I think of Mr. Petticord whenever I wear it.  The ring was lost, only a few years ago.  It disappeared from my bedroom one day, never to be found.

Frank’s story is a rather sad one.  In the early part of the twentieth century, he came home to his wife and kids one day to be greeted by his father-in-law, who threw him off his own property.  Frank seemed quite surprised at this turn of events, totally caught off guard. 

Mr. Petticord was such a sweet docile soft-spoken man, I can’t imagine what the reasons were behind this event, but never-the-less he lost all contact with his children, who were kept from him.  His family, in this final stage of life, was my great-great Aunt, my great-great Aunt’s daughter and her son, my grandmother…  and me.

This jewelry is one of my most precious possessions.  RIP Frank.

Audio excerpts from The Divine Me

The Divine Me

get your copy, in print or kindle, @ Amazon

The Goddess Maia, a glass of wine, and a good time

 

The Divine Me: Embracing Your Inner Goddess... [excerpt, from the chapter: The Goddess in Every Month]

• May ~ Maia

Origin: Greek
Influences: rebirth, fertility, motherhood
AKA: Maia Majesta
Symbols: flowers (she’s referred to as the “queen of
flowers”), braided or knotted items, doves

She was the eldest of the seven nymphs of Pleiades, the
daughter of Atlas. She is an earth goddess who also
embodies the energy of mother, nurse, and midwife. She’s
often referred to as the “grandmother of magic”.

Interestingly enough, Maia was a goddess whose rites were
restricted to women only. She was considered a “good
goddess”, or a Bona Dea.

It’s said that the nymphs, the seven daughters of Atlas had to
change themselves into doves to escape the hunter Orion.
When they flew up into the sky, they were transformed into
seven stars, thus forming the constellation we know as
Pleiades, or the Seven Sisters.

There’s not a lot of information found on this goddess,
though she was, for some reason, deemed important enough
to have a month named after her.

May’s Magick/Fairy Moon

Manifesting a Passionate Connection

So, what kind of “passionate connection” are you looking
for?

 

❖ A fling… a fun time once-in-a-while thing.

❖ a soul mate… and this is one of those forever connections, supposedly being your “perfect match” for all eternity, through several lifetimes – I don’t know why this makes me feel cynical, but that’s for another book.

❖ a twin flame… and you want to think on this

one – twin flames are those people we go

through lousy crap with over and over,

lifetime after lifetime, until we actually learn

the lesson Spirit has been trying to beat into

our heads.

 

Anyway, whatever your taste for passion may be, let’s get on
with the manifestation of it.

Let’s begin with a glass of wine, a wine of your choice. If you
don’t drink wine, that’s okay, substitute it with a glass of
grape juice, it’ll do.

While you’re working on the crafting of this manifestation,
you will enjoy the leisurely sipping of this magical wine. (It’s
magical because you are imbuing it with your intention as
you work and as you think)

We’re going to “fix” and light a red votive candle. Be sure
you have chosen a pretty and safe candle holder for it and
that you will be placing it in a safe place to burn.

Put a few drops of rose essential oil on this candle and
massage it in good, concentrating all the while on your
intention, your desire, and sending this energy into this
candle with the touch of your hands.

Set the candle up in its holder. You’re going to take a few
drops of the wine from your glass and drip them onto the top
of the candle as well, just a couple drops will do, and do this
before you light the candle, we don’t want any human
torches here.

Grab your matches, or your lighter, and light her up.
Sit back and finish your wine, thinking about what it is you’re
doing, what you’re manifesting. Take your time, maybe
you’ll need to refill the glass, at least once. And smile.

At Amazon in Print & Kindle
click  HERE

My Writing Space ~ The Divine Me, audio excerpt

 

You can purchase your copy of The Divine Me
@ Amazon, in print or kindle

click  HERE

Dance...

 

The Divine Me: Embracing Your Inner Goddess... [excerpt]

 

• Dance

Long, long ago, I would dance. I would put on several layers
of the large discarded house dresses, party dresses, and
petticoats of my grandmother and my aunts, slip my small
feet into their oversized high heels, and spin in the middle of
my bedroom, making the long skirts fan out around me.

This was my dance...

[page 169, from the chapter: "Facing the Mirror: How do you connect with the physical you?]

Purchase your copy of The Divine Me at Amazon, in print and kindle:

click  HERE

Book Excerpt: The Divine Me ~ the goddess Eostre -- Easter? Estrogen?

 

The following blog post is a short excerpt from my book, The Divine Me: Embracing Your Inner Goddess, pages 82-85, from the chapter "The Goddess in Every Month".

Available @ Amazon in Print & Kindle

click  HERE

·         March ~ Eostre

Origin: Germanic
Influences: spring and dawn, fertility, birth
AKA: Ostara
Symbols: rabbits, eggs, spring flowers, butterflies

This goddess is all about spring, birth, fertility, and the changing of seasons, the return of spring bringing with it the planting season, the return of warmth and promise and new beginnings.

The oddest myth that follows Eostre is the story of how she saved a bird from freezing to death in the winter.  Its wings were frozen together.  Eostre magically changed the bird into a rabbit, a rabbit which retained its ability to lay eggs. 

I don’t know about you, but this puts a whole new spin on the Easter images I grew up with.

I would imagine, in ancient times, when the rituals of this goddess were regularly practiced among the people, she was looked upon with a sigh of relief, as in another winter has passed and we survived.  Symbolically, it seems, the celebration for this goddess on the spring equinox would herald the return of daylight, as well as preparations for planting and the birthing of farm animals for sustenance.

In other words, it feels like the world is coming out of a dark frigid isolating winter and things are starting to move again, coming to life. 

Hmmm… “Eostre” sounds an awful lot like “estrogen”, just saying.

March’s Magick/Seed Moon
A Protection Spell

The main thing about someone who thinks they need a protection spell is that there’s something that’s making them feel threatened in some way. 

Who, or what, are you afraid of; or what is the set of circumstances that makes you feel threatened?  What do you think you need protection from?  Think about it, and then proceed with the following spell, if you still feel that it’s needed:

Let’s create a mojo bag for protection, as this is a very versatile way to create protection for a wide variety of reasons.

v  Start with the bag, a drawstring bag – I would choose black to repel negative people, entities, or circumstances; to banish unwanted things; to neutralize negative energy.  But you choose whatever color makes you feel safe and secure, warm, and fuzzy… protected.

v  Second – write down on a small piece of paper what you want protection from, be specific, be blunt and to the point.  Next, take a red ink pen or marker and with intention, along with much vigor and emotion, maybe a little cursing and spitting, draw a large red X through this list.  It’s okay to get emotional, get angry, get all riled up – what you’re doing is raising energy.

v  Third – let’s add some other “ingredients” to this bag, just so the universe and Spirit get the full picture.  This could be personal effects from an individual, and not just the stereotypical “hair and fingernail clippings”.  It could be the button off a shirt, a coin from their purse or wallet, a photograph, a piece of jewelry (an earring, or ring, or necklace chain), a tube of lipstick, a cigarette butt – you get the idea.  Be creative.

Tie this bag closed, preferably with three knots.  Keep it in a secret safe place and allow it to work undisturbed.  Should the time come when you no longer feel the need for it, you can: 1) toss it in the flame of a fire and let it burn to ash, 2) dismantle the bag and its ingredients and toss them into the trash, or 3) bury it somewhere off your property.

Embrace Your Inner Goddess... really

The following are excerpts from my book "The Divine Me", a 2023 release that is available at Amazon.

[excerpt]

From the chapter: The Goddess in Every Day

 

• Saturday: let’s cleanse

Burn candles of black; burn incense of mimosa, hemp, and comfrey; carry in your pockets or adorn your body with black onyx, Apache tears, and obsidian.

Let’s work on… making ourselves feel safe, in whatever capacity this entails; taking extra precautions to secure our home; laying a line of defense against unexpected negativity; drawing boundaries that may be difficult but necessary to our wellbeing.

Kali ~ Hindu

Kali is the banshee screeching warrior goddess, the goddess of death and doom. The black goddess of revenge and bloodlust. But you gotta’ love her. It’s her energy that will fight to protect the innocent; it’s her energy that’s needed for retribution and accountability for the bad guys.

As the myth goes, Kali was born when she emerged from the forehead of the Goddess Durga and is believed to be the manifestation of that goddess’s anger. No wonder Kali has an attitude.

The most notable story I found on Kali involved her husband, Lord Shiva. After Kali was called upon to save the world by going on a rampage against a demon army led by Raktabija, she had herself so wrapped in murderous energy that she couldn’t stop herself and began destroying any living thing within her reach.

To cease this frenzied murder spree, her husband Shiva laid down in her path, blocking her way. Apparently, he thought that this would stop her. Silly idea. She was blinded to rationality and restraint, and she wildly started stomping the sh… er, bejeebers out of her own husband.

Oops.

Upon suddenly realizing her terrible mistake, overcome with remorse, laced with a wee bit of embarrassment, it’s said that she stuck out her bloody tongue. In some versions, it’s stated that she pulled her tongue out, either way, it makes for quite a visual.

[excerpt]

From the chapter: Facing the Mirror ~ How Do You Connect with Yourself

• Be aware of changes in your energy

Yes, learn to do this. It could save your life.

I was at a stop light in Fremont, Nebraska, southbound on Broad St. I was driving, my now ex-husband was sitting in the passenger seat. All of the sudden, yep, there it was, that “change” in energy. It’s so hard to describe because it can be so subtle. My reaction to it was that I froze. The red light turned green, and still, I sat there, frozen. My ex was shouting at me now, “Move, go!! The light is green!”

 
Nope, my body wouldn’t budge.

Within seconds, a car went speeding through a red light in front of us, west bound on 23rd St., at 60 or 70 miles an hour. If I would’ve been making my left hand turn onto this street, it would have broadsided us.

After this vehicle whooshed through this intersection, yep, there it was again, that weird change in energy. I was no longer frozen. I was also miffed at the man in the passenger seat and his attitude, so I turned to him calmly as he sat there now in shocked silence, open-mouthed, and I said, “Okay, now it’s time to move.”

Let me read you a story...

 

Book narration, an excerpt from The Divine Me
@ Amazon:

The Divine Me: Embracing Your Inner Goddess [excerpt]

 
[Excerpt from one of the "Facing the Mirror" sections... Facing the Mirror: How do you connect with yourself?]

·       Be aware of changes in your energy

Yes, learn to do this. It could save your life.

I was at a stop light in Fremont, Nebraska, southbound on Broad St. I was driving, my now ex-husband was sitting in the passenger seat.

All of the sudden, yep, there it was, that “change” in energy. It’s so hard to describe because it can be so subtle. My reaction to it was that I froze. The red light turned green, and still, I sat there, frozen. My ex was shouting at me now, “Move, go!! The light is green!”

Nope, my body wouldn’t budge.

Within seconds, a car went speeding through a red light in front of us, west bound on 23rd St., at 60 or 70 miles an hour. If I would’ve been making my left hand turn onto this street, it would have broadsided us.

After this vehicle whooshed through this intersection, yep, there it was again, that weird change in energy. I was no longer frozen. I was also miffed at the man in the passenger seat and his attitude, so I turned to him calmly as he sat there now in shocked silence, open-mouthed, and I said, “Okay, now it’s time to move.”

• · Write down your dreams

I used to keep dream journals, but then I used to remember my dreams. Not so much anymore unless it’s a visitation dream. That’s a dream where the spirit of a departed loved one visits you. They are usually very vivid dreams, you will acutely feel the departed spirit’s presence, and you will not forget the dream. Sometimes your departed family member may have an important message to leave with you.

My great-grandmother showed up to tell me it was okay. I hadn’t seen or spoken to her in several years before she passed. So, she showed herself with her lips tied shut, much like you see on voodoo dolls in hoodoo horror flicks, which was her way of emphasizing a lack of communication. It was an alarming sight at first, but I quickly realized her implications. Then I heard her voice telepathically in my mind: “It’s okay.” Immediately, there was a feeling of peace.

It was her way of acknowledging that even though it had been a long time since we’d seen or spoken with each other, all our ties and our relationship were intact. Always was, always would be.

Purchase your copy @ Amazon

It's Officially Finished!!

 
Yesterday I officially completed writing my 10th book. Let the editing begin. This book will see a March release date.

Sneak Peek @ The Divine Me: Embracing Your Inner Goddess: "My Vulva, the horn; The Boat of Heaven"

 

Admittedly, I took a brief lull the past few days with the writing of my 10th book, but I am back at it now in full force.  We're up to 20,181 words and 105 pages.  Basically, each chapter is divided into two sections --  1) there's a section on the goddesses for each chapter that includes the story behind her along with more insights, rituals, and ways to connect with her energy (the goddess and the heavenly bodies; the goddess in every day; the goddess in every month; the elemental connection; the goddess in YOU); 2) and then there's a very personal section with each chapter titled "Facing the Mirror" (what is your greatest strength; what about the darker side of your nature; how do you connect with yourself; how do you connect with your spiritual side; how do you connect with the physical you).

This is a first sneak peek at the contents, with a look at the goddess I chose to highlight for the month of January... Inanna.

____________________

Origin: Sumerian
Influences: love, war, beauty, sex, justice, political power
AKA: Queen of Heaven, Ishtar
Planet: Venus
Symbols: lion, 8-point star

I was somewhat amazed, and more than a little taken aback, when I looked into the myths and stories surrounding Inanna. She’s rather daunting actually. She’s a goddess obsessed with gaining power and unwilling to face the consequences for her actions. It’s also said that she’s promiscuous, vicious, and can even be cruel.

One legend goes that she deliberately gets her father, Anu, drunk so that she can steal from him the figurative concepts of wisdom and culture while he’s passed out.

The story of her courtship with a young shepherd, Demuzi, was filled with great draughts of romantic verbiage, especially about “plowing her vulva” and who was going to do this and how it must be done:

My vulva, the horn,

The Boat of Heaven

Is full of eagerness like the young moon.

My untilled land lies fallow

She goes on to marry Dumuzi, the shepherd boy, and he happily wallows on the consort’s throne, drinking in and soaking up all the riches and treasure of the royal lifestyle that she, Inanna, had built, and plowing her vulva, I would imagine.

Then her sister’s husband dies, and she decides to journey to the underworld, where her sister Ereshkigal rules. After she makes this journey, she becomes trapped in the underworld, and she’s told that the only way she can leave and return to the world of the living is if she finds someone to take her place.

During her imposed confinement in the underworld, Inanna was able to see the world of the living she left behind and how her absence affected those close to her. To her surprise, and probably dismay, she saw that her husband Dumuzi had not mourned her at all but had gladly taken over the reins of the throne and was soaking up the glory of his new position.

“Him”, she told her captors. “I give you Dumuzi to take my place.” And so, it was. Inanna returned to the world of the living.

Understandably, she was upset with her husband, who apparently was more interested in the material things and powerful position that his marriage to Inanna provided him, rather than the love and adoration of his wife. And I think, with that sentence, I have just stumbled upon the moral of this story, which serves as fair warning for other prospective unscrupulous mates who are looking for something other than love.

I think Inanna made the right decision. “Burn in hell… er, Hel, Dumuzi.”

Being released in 2023

A New Book ~ a work-in-progress

 

Since I'm over 13,000 words and 69 pages into a project, I suppose it would be a good time to announce that there is a new book in the works. And because I still haven't decided how I'm going to publish this book, whether with Amazon's KDP program, or with a standard publishing company, I should call the title and cover a "working title and cover". The book... "The Divine Me, Embracing Your Inner Goddess". There are portions of this book that are highly personal, but then, getting to know and embrace the goddess within means getting to know and embrace yourself and everything that goes with you. I'm using myself as an example. So, beware world.