Poetry for Brigid

To mark Imbolc (aka Candlemas, aka Brigid's Day), here is my selection for the Third Annual Brigid in Cyberspace Reading.

The Moon is Always

The moon is always you, and I am drawn
to trace the ripe crescent swelling around
your hip, the arc of your throat, the classic curve
of your eyes, and the velvet indigo shadow beneath.

You are always the moon, and I ache in your
absence, although you never leave me for long,
lingering late into the morning and ascending
again in the afternoon, balm for my sun-blind eyes.

The moon is waxen, bloodless.
The moon does not have your mouth.
The moon does not contain your breath.

You are never the moon, but your dimpled
skin is luminescent, it gleams and lures my gaze,
my hands, and I am always reaching for you.

The moon is never you, but I arch to your rhythms
all the same, and I weep relief with the crashing
tidal pool upon your every return.

The moon has a profile that changes with perspective,
and I have written encrypted love poems within
its every dimple and shadow, secrets that borrow
light from our love making to illuminate
the stars and blaze our skins and stories across the sky.

This moon is only for us.

Chandra Mayor

Calgary Pagan Pride Day

Calgary Pagan Pride Day
Saturday, September 22, 2007 - 10 a.m. - 4 p.m.
http://community.livejournal/cppd

I've giving a presentation on Feminist Spirituality at 1 p.m.
Hope to see you there!

Writing Through the Pain

It's 5:44 p.m., Saturday, September 8, 2007. Two months ago, I had made plans to be doing something important now, plans which feel apart dramatically this August on the heels of other plans falling apart dramatically not 48 hours before.

It's not the first time I've had this overwhelming sense that things are not right, that when I was sleeping the universe shifted and so I've awoken to the wrong place, the wrong time, the wrong life. There have been many moments in the past two years where the surreality of my life washes over me in waves of despair. That's when I want to scream "I want my life back!" - but I don't because I know that it won't change a thing.

I should be doing something important now. I want to be doing it with every fibre of my being. But it's not about what I want, is it? It's about what other people want more. It's painful to be an object, not a subject, in your own life.

Wil sha.

Writing Through the Pain

It is a surprising thing to wake up and discover you no longer know how to trust. Which is ironic, really, as I have been told I am too trusting. On the surface, it might look that way, but the past few days can be an illustration of how trust does not work in my life.

Trust mingles with faith, and when I think it's all going to work out - and then THE THING happens to blow it all out of the water - well, my faith is shaken too.

Wil sha.*

*Let there be healing.

Writing Through the Pain

I've been reading Finding Water: The Art of Perseverance by Julia Cameron this weekend. (I plan to post a review when done.) She talks about writing/creating in the midst of stagnant periods and about locating the writer's craft within the context of "work" instead of seeing it as a mythical/muse inspired event. One quote that has stuck with me so far:

The doing of something productive regardless of the outcome is an act of faith. The doing of a small something when a larger something is too much for us is perhaps especially an act of faith. Faith means going forward by whatever means we can.

That has been especially important for me within the events of the past year. It has only been when I did the "small somethings" that I felt I was able to move forward. And the "small somethings" have, hopefully, been leading me to a place where I am able to take on more of the "larger somethings". Sometimes the "small somethings" appear to have nothing to do with writing or work: walking my recycling to the bin, taking a picture of the cherry blossoms on the tree outside my window, remembering cookies for game nights. But the mindfulness that I am using to change my world is the same mindfulness that I bring to my writing.

Perhaps, as I move forward in acceptance and healing, it will be the same mindfulness I bring to the "larger somethings" and to my life.

(And, amazingly, my shoulder no longer hurts. Perhaps writing through the pain isn't such a bad tool after all.)

Time Wasted? Perhaps It's Well-Spent

So how to reconcile the seemingly conflicting trends — the fact that we are working harder and wasting more time? A crotchety boss might say that we’re working longer because we’re wasting time, but the opposite may also be true. We are wasting time because we are working harder. Read More

Another "knowledge economy" story, this one from the New York Times, and another call for the work-hour paradigm to shift. The winds of change are a'blowin.....

Writings Update

The SUTR (Safety Under the Rainbow) project is in its final approval stages, so I've added the prelink on the sidebar.

This Week's Project(s)

Braun Family Website: Adding information (as it appears in my inbox) on my sister's upcoming wedding. Nice website they have for it, too, with guestbook and links to registries. Amazed my grandmother hasn't posted to the site yet; guess she must be busy with online Scrabble on her new computer.

Sunrise Community Link: Happier with the template now, but a lot more to go, coding-wise. *Love* the floating box on the top.

Violence Information & Education Centre: Tracy Lynn's got the Wise at Work logo coming, I hope, and there's always the new library pages redesign.

If I find the time, I'm also hoping to complete two articles for a January 15 deadline. Not free time, mind you, just time that only has two or three things booked (as opposed to the usual five or six).