On Capturing the Divine Feminine

Honoring what I hear

I listen to my body

those gut feelings that lead to decisions

based on intuition rather than articulated facts.

This is how I capture the divine feminine

Lately I’ve been paying attention to trust and faith.  It is clear to me more than ever that in the scheme of things we really have no other choice.  Faith; everything will work out.  Trust; everything happens for a reason.  Not a preconceived, predetermined reason, but simply for the fact that something can be learned from each experience.

My husband, Larry, and I love where we live; the quiet, the beauty, the green. Looking at Larry’s face yesterday during dinner he looked exceptionally handsome; his grey hair at that perfect length just before the need for a haircut sets in; his skin slightly tanned from working in the garden. His insights and wisdom were being shared.  We were talking about life after death and the pros and cons of suicide.  

Life after death, he said, had many possibilities and he was open to all.  Nonetheless, it remains a mystery.  Suicide? The question was whether or not it should be left up to each individual. Since a friend’s recent suicide, I have felt it was something of a betrayal. It, too, remains a mystery.

For dinner we had bean burritos with home grown onions we bought at the farmer’s market, organic tomatoes, avocados, cheese, brown rice and salsa.  Our friend, Mead, was visiting.  For dessert she brought frozen cashew cream. It had the texture of cheesecake and was delicious. 

The day was simple.  Lengthy conversations continued during our hike in the woods.  An episode of West Wing was watched, then to bed early. 

Our life is simple and there is value in that simplicity leading to a capacity to go inward more often.  When I go inward I’m not only looking for thoughts not fully expressed, I search for how my body feels.  Throughout the day, I feel younger than my years and at times I think that I may even look younger. 

 Conversations at the kitchen table

Conversations at the kitchen table

Honoring what I hear

I listen to my body

those gut feelings that lead to decisions

based on intuition rather than articulated facts.

This is how I capture the divine feminine

On our recent visit to the Art Institute in Chicago I was confronted by a homeless woman on Michigan Ave., a stately avenue on which to take up a homeless residence.  She had chosen a space outside a coffee shop protected by a fence that sectioned off the outdoor eating area.  She and her belongings were nestled on the outside of the fence, while inside there were cozy tables with umbrellas to shade the sun and heat.

Larry and I had just finished our coffee and sweet roll and as we leave I hear, “Hey, Grandma!”  

The homeless woman is walking towards me, dressed in layers, her black matted dreads, a statement of pride.  I, too, was dressed for the cool morning weather in a layering of sweaters, jacket and shibori scarves. 

“Hey, Grandma?” she calls again.  

I am startled. My grandchildren call me Grammy. No one has ever called me grandma. In fact, I don’t even think I look like a grandma,  at least not in my preconceived idea of what a grandma should look like. I thought I was different.  I did not, however, betray this woman’s observation.  “Will you go back in there and buy me a croissant?” She asked. 

I nodded, “Why did you call me grandma?” I asked.

“Because I am one, too.” She answered. Camaraderie had been established.    

I turned around, walked back inside the coffee shop.  She returned to her corner to wait.  Someone else had already bought her coffee. Larry meandered down the sidewalk while the transaction was completed.  

Honoring what I hear

I listen to my body

those gut feelings that lead to decisions

based on intuition rather than articulated facts.

This is how I capture the divine feminine

 Larry and Laverne at Van Gogh's "NIght Cafe"

Larry and Laverne at Van Gogh's "NIght Cafe"