The Queen of My Self

The Queen of My Self

Mother Earth’s Gifts

posted by Donna Henes

Throughout world mythology, the goddess of the good ground, the grain, the autumn harvest, has been appropriately portrayed as a knowledgeable mature woman of the world, mistress of all earthly domains. A matriarch. She is the Great Mother who sustains all her species. She was known as Astarte, Ishtar by the ancient Semites, Semele by Phrygians, Isis in Egypt, Demeter in Greece, and Ceres in Rome.

She is Tari Pennu to the Bengalis, Old Woman Who Never Dies to the Mandan and Mother Quescapenek to the Salish. To the Aztec, she is Chicomecoatl, to the Quechua Indians in Bolivia, she is Pacha Mama and the Huichol call her Our Mother Dove Girl, Mother of Maizea.

While the Earth, Herself, is seen as the fertile mother from whom all life has issued, Her aspect as the spirit of the grain is celebrated in many cultures as Mother Earth’s child. This young one represents next year’s crop curled like a fetus gestating within the seeds of this year’s harvest.

Typically, she is the daughter, the harvest maiden, the corn virgin, although in Aztec Mexico and Egypt, the grain spirit was Her son. Also Aztec was Xilonen, Goddess of New Corn. The Cherokees called her Green Corn Girl. To the Prussians, she was the Corn Baby, to the Malays, the Rice Baby. In parts of India, the harvest maiden is Guari and she is represented by both an unmarried girl and a bunch of balsam plants.

The archetypal grain mother/daughter pair is personified in Greek mythology as Demeter and Persephone, also known as Kore, the Virgin Goddess. They illustrate two aspects, the mother and the maiden, of the same divine fertile spirit. Demeter is this year’s ripe crop and Persephone, the seed‑corn taken from the parent. Like the seed sown in autumn, she symbolically descends into the underworld, torn from the breast of her mourning mother. And, again like the seed, she reappears, reborn, in the spring.

The harvest is experienced at once as a festival of life and a drama of death. In the fall, we commemorate the seasonal demise of the light as well as the plants, which provide us sustenance. Even as we glory in the great yield, the reward of our diligence, we mourn the death of the deity residing in the grain, killed by the cutting of the crops. At harvest, we honor She who died so that we might continue to live.

Despite the clear and rational necessity, there is considerable and understandable reluctance to scythe the last sheath of grain. For here lives the Great Grain Mother and Her child — She who has always fed us, to whom we owe our existence. Can we slash Her body with a sickle? Can we allow Her to be tread upon and trampled on the threshing floor? Can we cook and eat Her seed and feed Her broken corpse to the animals?

Would that we still revered the gifts of life and living bestowed upon us by our mutual Mother Earth.
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Donna Henes is the author of The Queen of My Self: Stepping into Sovereignty in Midlife. She offers counseling and upbeat, practical and ceremonial guidance for individual women and groups who want to enjoy the fruits of an enriching, influential, purposeful, passionate, and powerful maturity. Consult the MIDLIFE MIDWIFE™

The Queen welcomes questions concerning all issues of interest to women in their mature years. Send your inquiries to thequeenofmyself@aol.com.

 

 

Seeds of a New Humanity

posted by Donna Henes

By Joan Chittister

The mystic Julian of Norwich, holding an acorn in her hand in the fourteenth century said of it, “In this is all that is.” The Earth shakes at the thought of the simple truth of it.

In every seed is the gift of life to those seeking life, wanting life, denied the kind of life that is full of energy, full of hope. But the hope is a tenuous one, a sacred one, one to be treated with awe for fear of our own failure to protect it.

Seeds are the one thing that are the only genuine promise we have of the future. “Even if I knew the world would end tomorrow,” Martin Luther wrote, “I would plant an apple tree today.” It is an insight that defies despair, that promises new life in the midst of the old. It is a beacon that cries out for commitment in an age such as ours when the seeds of destruction among us—greed, power, and control—are in mortal struggle with the seeds of life.

And now, so accustomed have we become to destruction in the name of progress, we are on the brink of commercializing seed, of politicizing seed, of monopolizing seed, of genetically modifying seeds for the sake of someone’s control of creation, of making seed the new military weapon of the twenty-first century.

It is all a matter of valuing the money we can make today more than we value the life that is meant to come.

But the problem is that we ourselves are all seeds, too. We are either seeds of universal love or seeds of exploitative racism. We are seeds of eternal hope or we are seeds of starving despair. We are seeds of a new humanity or we are the harbingers of humanity’s decay.

It is a choice. A conscious choice that depends on what we see in seeds and how we treat them and whose we think they are and what we will do to keep them free and available. Or not.

We are the seed of our own life to come and the life of the planet as well. Indeed, “In the seed is everything that is.
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Donna Henes is the author of The Queen of My Self: Stepping into Sovereignty in Midlife. She offers counseling and upbeat, practical and ceremonial guidance for individual women and groups who want to enjoy the fruits of an enriching, influential, purposeful, passionate, and powerful maturity. Consult the MIDLIFE MIDWIFE™

The Queen welcomes questions concerning all issues of interest to women in their mature years. Send your inquiries to thequeenofmyself@aol.com.

 

I AM – A Poem

posted by Donna Henes

I am the creative fire that connects all humanity to the source of life.
I reside gently and timidly in receptacles of unborn potential
and I wait patiently to be heard, seen, expressed and shared.
I don’t know when my journey towards the light of form, shape, word
and movement began. It seems that I have always been held in the belly
of the universal current and then……suddenly……. I was separated,
dropped in a dark womb shaping my existence, slowly evolving
into flesh and blood.
I am a voice, waiting to connect with the candles of creativity in other people.
I am dark, thick, dense, unknown.
I move quickly, I exist and then….in a flash…..I disappear into the depths
of silence.
When the time is ripe, I will become a fire, drawing strength from itself,
remembering the streams of eternity.
I am a plan and a place. A plan of God’s love, a place of God’s healing.
Fire in the soul, fire in the womb, burning the dross, relentlessly, with
great
care and compassion.
I am constant motion! Discomfort, challenge, truth!
I am a theatre, full of drama and tension, players plotting and planning
for attention, expression and survival.
I am the sun thriving in the clarity of direction that daylight brings.
I am the moon, deeply cherishing the soulful nurturing of mystery.
I am the feminine hand of compassion and understanding……a pool
of nothingness, waiting to embrace and comfort.
I am the masculine sword of the warrior; I am a blade of anger and
indignation
waiting to be plunged into the heart of illusion.
I am here but not always present, gazing outwardly, waiting for the world
to
summon me yet always longing for the eternal river to bring me home

By Paola Ferretti

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Donna Henes is the author of The Queen of My Self: Stepping into Sovereignty in Midlife. She offers counseling and upbeat, practical and ceremonial guidance for individual women and groups who want to enjoy the fruits of an enriching, influential, purposeful, passionate, and powerful maturity. Consult the MIDLIFE MIDWIFE™

The Queen welcomes questions concerning all issues of interest to women in their mature years. Send your inquiries to thequeenofmyself@aol.com.

Letting Go Poems

posted by Donna Henes

Letting Go Takes Love


To let go does not mean to stop caring,
it means I can’t do it for someone else.

To let go is not to cut myself off,
it’s the realization I can’t control another.

To let go is not to enable,
but allow learning from natural consequences.

To let go is to admit powerlessness, which means
the outcome is not in my hands.

To let go is not to try to change or blame another,
it’s to make the most of myself.

To let go is not to care for,
but to care about. 

To let go is not to fix,
but to be supportive.

To let go is not to judge,
but to allow another to be a human being.

To let go is not to be in the middle arranging all the outcomes,
but to allow others to affect their destinies.

To let go is not to be protective,
it’s to permit another to face reality.

To let go is not to deny,
but to accept.

To let go is not to nag, scold or argue,
but instead to search out my own shortcomings and correct them.

To let go is not to adjust everything to my desires,
but to take each day as it comes and cherish myself in it.

To let go is not to criticize or regulate anybody,
but to try to become what I dream I can be. 

To let go is not to regret the past,
but to grow and live for the future.

To let go is to fear less and love more.

- Author unknown

§§

Liberation


Needed to be pruned

In order to bloom

Too much dead wood

Keeps us stagnant

Rigid, unyielding

Conforming to pre suggestion

I got tired of dragging yesterday around

Like a dead co-joined twin

Took a pair of shears to that

Albatross dangling from my neck

There is huge freedom

In surrender…

- © Alison Stormwolf

 

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Donna Henes is the author of The Queen of My Self: Stepping into Sovereignty in Midlife. She offers counseling and upbeat, practical and ceremonial guidance for individual women and groups who want to enjoy the fruits of an enriching, influential, purposeful, passionate, and powerful maturity. Consult the MIDLIFE MIDWIFE™

 

The Queen welcomes questions concerning all issues of interest to women in their mature years. Send your inquiries to thequeenofmyself@aol.com.

Previous Posts

Mother Earth's Gifts
Throughout world mythology, the goddess of the good ground, the grain, the autumn harvest, has been appropriately portrayed as a knowledgeable mature woman of the world, mistress of all earthly domains. A matriarch. She is the Great Mother who sustains all her species. She was known as Astarte, Isht

posted 6:00:47am Oct. 31, 2014 | read full post »

Seeds of a New Humanity
By Joan Chittister The mystic Julian of Norwich, holding an acorn in her hand in the fourteenth century said of it, “In this is all that is.” The Earth shakes at the thought of the simple truth of it. In every seed is the gift of life to those seeking life, wanting life, denied the kind of

posted 6:00:26am Oct. 29, 2014 | read full post »

I AM – A Poem
I am the creative fire that connects all humanity to the source of life. I reside gently and timidly in receptacles of unborn potential and I wait patiently to be heard, seen, expressed and shared. I don’t know when my journey towards the light of form, shape, word and movement began. It seems

posted 6:00:20am Oct. 27, 2014 | read full post »

Letting Go Poems
Letting Go Takes Love To let go does not mean to stop caring, it means I can't do it for someone else. To let go is not to cut myself off, it's the realization I can't control another. To let go is not to enable, but allow learning from natural consequences. To let go is to admit powe

posted 6:00:07am Oct. 24, 2014 | read full post »

Letting Go
What do you need to let go of? I asked this question to the many Queens who have joined the Facebook page of The Queen of My Self. Q.  What have you have already released and what do you still need to part with — mentally, emotionally, physically and spiritually? Here are some of their res

posted 6:00:21am Oct. 22, 2014 | read full post »


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