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The Queen of My Self

The Queen of My Self

Our Mother

posted by Donna Henes

Since May is Mothering Month, I intend to post a diverse array of articles for the rest of the month, about and for mothers.

 

Our Mother

by Dale Allen

 

Our Mother who art within us

Each breath brings us to you.

Thy wisdom come,

Thy will be done as we honor your presence within us.

You give us this day all that we need.

Your bounty calls us to give and receive

all that is loving and pleasurable.

You are the courage that moves us to be true to ourselves

and we act with grace and power.

We relax into your cycles of birth,

growth, death and renewal.

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Out of the womb, the darkness, the void, comes new life.

For you are the Mother of All Things.

Your body is the Sacred Earth and our bodies.

Your love nurtures us and unites us all.

Now and forever more.

*****

Donna Henes is the author of The Queen of My Self: Stepping into Sovereignty in Midlife. She is the Midlife Midwife™ offering 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™: http://www.donnahenes.net/queen/consult.shtml

***

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

 

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Return of the Great Mother

posted by Donna Henes

 

Since May is Mothering Month, I intend to post a diverse array of articles for the rest of the month, about and for mothers.

Return of the Great Mother

Andrew Harvey

AT THE END OF HIS LIFE, the great Indian mystic Aurobindo is said to have said, “If there is to be a future, it will wear the crown of feminine design.” Unless we awaken to the mystery of the sacred feminine, of the feminine as sacred, and allow it to glow into, irradiate, illumine, and penetrate every area of our activity and to create in them all harmony, justice, peace, love, ecstacy, and balance, we will die out and take nature, or a large part of it, with us. Unless we come to know what the sacred feminine really is—its subtlety and flexibility, but also its extraordinarily ruthless, radical power of dissolving all structures and dogmas, all prisons in which we have sought so passionately to imprison ourselves—we will be taken in by patriarchal projections of it. The Divine Mother, the fullness of the revolution that she is preparing, will be lost to us. We must understand that comprehending the sacred feminine is a crucial part of surviving the next terrible stage of humanity….

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I have often said that I think we are in the last twenty or so years (originally written 1996) of this civilization and quite possibly of the planet itself. If we don’t make major decisions—economic, political, and environmental, we will simply create an uninhabitable world and go on feeding those powers of destruction that are already threatening to ravage nature. We are certainly at the end of so-called “civilization,” and we are possibly at the end of the world. The facts of our global crisis, a crisis at once political and economic, psychological and environmental, show us clearly that the human race has no hope of survival unless it chooses to undergo a total transformation, a total change of heart. What is required is a massive and quite unprecedented spiritual transformation. There is no precedent for what we are being asked to do. Only the leap into a new consciousness can engender the vision, the moral passion, the joy and energy necessary to effect change on the scale and with the self-sacrifice that is essential to save the planet in the time we have left.

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The message we are being sent by history can be summed up in four words: Transform or die out… Teilhard de Chardin wrote, “Humanity is being taken to the point where it will have to choose between suicide or adoration.” I have no doubt that we are now at that point. Human survival depends on whether we are brave enough to face the full desolation of what we have done to our psyches and the planet, and wise and humble enough to turn to the divine insight inside us to learn what we need to go forward. This is not an apocalyptic scenario—not a scenario at all, in fact. It is fact. This is where we are, this is what is happening, and it is terrifying. Anyone not in a trance of denial knows it. No amount of wishful thinking or sophisticated pseudo-historical parallels can make this agony go away.

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It is hard enough for a human being to face the facts of his or her own mortality. What we have to face now is not merely our own death, but the possible death of everything and everyone we love, the holocaust of nature herself, the mother we have ignored and betrayed for so long. If we do not face up to our present danger, in all its horror, without consolation and without illusion, in the full glare of Kali’s terrifying mirror, if we don’t gaze deeply into the mirror of the goddess and see our faces, we will never find in ourselves the passion and courage necessary to change. Catastrophe can become grace, and disaster possibility, only if we transform their energy by accepting what they have to teach us and acting with complete sincerity to transform ourselves.

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*****

Donna Henes is the author of  The Queen of My Self: Stepping into Sovereignty in Midlife. She is the Midlife Midwife™ offering 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™: http://www.donnahenes.net/queen/consult.shtml

*****

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

 

 

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Not Our Mother’s Daughters

posted by Donna Henes

 

Since May is Mothering Month, I intend to post a diverse array of articles for the rest of the month, about and for mothers.

 

Not Our Mother’s Daughters

by Mari Selby, VA

”And so our mothers and grandmothers have, more often than not anonymously, handed on the creative spark, the seed of the flower they themselves never hoped to see — or like a sealed letter they could not plainly read.”

– Alice Walker

Take off the pearls, loosen the perfect coifs, and shout Hallelujah! You have come a long way! June Cleaver of “Leave it to Beaver” wore pearls, heels, and aprons throughout her role. As we women grew stronger, and demanded more of our own rights we saw mirrored on TV new forms of being a woman and a mother. The culture reflected the evolution we were experiencing. On the “Cosby Show” we had Claire Huxtable, who was beautiful, wise, had her own career, and a great husband. Roseanne Barr was a “Domestic Goddess” who not only ran her TV family but the production of the TV show as well. These women and their TV roles gave us options for being strong women, and a

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mother. Because of their stories we have discovered we don’t have to be just like our mothers, in fact, we can be so much more.

We are no longer our mother’s daughters. We have dared to explore our love life, brave new avenues with our careers, and investigate our intellect in more radical ways than our mother’s ever thought possible. Maybe they dreamed for us. Maybe they hoped for us, and often they were afraid for us. As we learn to love and know ourselves we are discovering who our mothers are really. A private investigator becomes caretaker to her highly competent mother, a former nurse, and discovers that the Superwoman is merely human; a Trinidadian immigrant and victim of spousal abuse accepts her lawyer daughter’s lesbianism and gains her respect. A therapist and survivor of eating disorders shares a marital problem with her “historically non-empathetic” mother and is gratified by her response; a social services professional pushing 70 learns to cope with the 96-year-old family matriarch who still treats her like a child. As we realize that who we are now is not an act, we can accept ourselves on a deeper level and are able to accept those around us as well.

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At the age of five I decided I was never going to be like my mother, a stay-at-home housewife. The only reason I could think of to get married was to have the pretty dress. At the age of eight I no longer cared about the dress, and was determined to have my own career. By then I already had several poems published in my school paper. Soon after that I realized my mother had little to offer me other than her unending criticism of whatever I did. I ceased looking at her as my role model and struggled to find my own way. Over the years I accomplished less than I hoped, and more than my mother thought possible. Meanwhile, I felt lost often and her anxieties became my worries and fears. Today I am learning to accept her as a woman who had three children in three and a half years with no skills or education to be a mother. She did the best she could with what she had. With recovery I am reclaiming who I am and letting go of my mother’s anxieties. Finally in my fifties I am grateful for becoming a tiger of a butterfly, for roaring ahead with my creativity, my wisdom, my love, and my career. I am, but I am so much more than, my mother’s daughter.

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Evolutionary Metamorphosis: Regenopause: Barbara Marx Hubbard coined this phrase. She is speaking about women’s new spiritual role as we transform and grow into our own wisdom. We are becoming something never experienced before on this Earth. Instead of referring to this time of our life as “menopause” and the disintegration of youthful bodies, she refers to women regenerating. The process of regenerating involves reassembling ourselves, finding our new vocations, being intuitively guided as to our emerging functions and structures. Barbara says, “One by one we are forming the still invisible new body, preparing for our sudden appearance as members of a societal butterfly.”

*****

Donna Henes is the author of  The Queen of My Self: Stepping into Sovereignty in Midlife. She is the Midlife Midwife™ offering 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.

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Consult the MIDLIFE MIDWIFE™: http://www.donnahenes.net/queen/consult.shtml

*****

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

 

 

 

 

 

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Motherlines

posted by Donna Henes

 

Since May is Mothering Month, I intend to post a diverse array of articles for the rest of the month, about and for mothers.

 

Motherlines

By Mary Saaracino, CO

 

Margaret

On the day I was born you nearly bled to death

perhaps a sign that our lives were marked for strife

but a mother’s womb is a thing of power

a proving ground for life and all its mysteries

you called me first-daughter and I shouldered

that responsibility, sometimes bearing

too many of your sorrows

always bearing mine

our lives are as entwined as our DNA

that mitochondrial ribbon of memory

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tethers us to the long sighs of mothers and daughters —

Maria Fiora Petronilla Lazurri

Maria Assunta Rocchiccioli — and other

more ancient daughters, mothers,

grandmothers, great grandmothers –

whose names we do not know

strong women who loved and lost, laughed and cried

dreamed and despaired and lived — always

lived knowing that blood runs deep

and primeval bonds are never severed

whether our days are carefree or fraught with pain

something carries us forward

something that knows mothers are imperfect

and daughters are too

something that knows us each by heart

celebrates the joys and sorrows

blesses us all the way through.

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Rose

Not mother by birth, but second mother by chance

your fierce spirit a reminder

that a woman strong is a mighty beauty —

though some would not agree

when first you married my father

my twenty-something eyes had seen too much

yet much more lay ahead

at your table I have feasted on roasted chicken

with potatoes, polenta simmering in red sauce,

savory meatballs and homemade fried dough

listening to your stories about your sisters,

heeding your reminder to always cherish mine

there’s something in a woman’s bones that celebrates

the twin sustenance of food and sisterhood,

something that honors the balm that resides

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in the love of mothers—biological or not —

that knows life is painful and bearable

knows, too, that only love sustains us

through the long walk home

 

Rosemary

When first I met you my life lay in shards

at my feet, splinters of mirrored glass reflecting

worry and woe back at my astonished eyes

discontent called my name

you asked me to look closely

wait and listen for my truth, for answers

I never cried in front of you

yet the kindness in your eyes

called my name

steeled my courage

led me home

together we mended

the fragile fragments

fashioned woe into a window

a doorway

a way in & out

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of my delicate, willing heart

 

Laura

Voice clenched in terror

I sat before you

too many secrets trapped

in too many memories

my lips afraid to speak

my brain shattered by shock

I wanted to shout, but could not

I wanted to silence years of no-no-no

dive, singing, into the boundless sea of yes-yes-yes

I longed to drown in epiphany, be reborn

a woman whose tongue was ablaze

with voluptuous vowels

loose-limbed consonants

I could not have known

the way out was strewn

with prayers and poems

pictures drawn of fierce, howling mouths

the dark eyes of a young girl staring back at me

her twisted mouth clamped shut

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her lonesome hands reaching

for something it would take me years to recognize

when at last the stifling air stirred

I began to cry and sculpted Amazons of clay

fists clenched against injustice, wanting — always wanting —

to laugh, to dance, to say what I needed to say

without censor, without regret, without retaliation

and you, a patient midwife,

witnessed my bloody birth without flinching

breath after precious breath you stood resolute

as I gathered the lost syllables

reclaiming the nouns, verbs, plump sentences

of my mother tongue

the native language of my soul

 

Lucia

Mother of mothers dark and divine

your secret keys unlocked ancient doorways

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ushering me down dusty roads

peppered with red poppies and parched ruins

Sicily captured me, cradled me in her fragrant arms

coaxed my soul from its too-long slumber

your audacity, your heart, your laughter

spoke of things long forgotten

daring me to speak as well

and to remember

remember

always

remember

Her name

Her name

Her name

*****

Donna Henes is the author of   The Queen of My Self: Stepping into Sovereignty in Midlife. She is the Midlife Midwife™ offering 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.

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Consult the MIDLIFE MIDWIFE™: http://www.donnahenes.net/queen/consult.shtml

***

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

 

 

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