Eileen’s Blog

Woman - A Poem

Tue, 6 Mar 2012 13:18:05 -0700

Now I truly see
The irony.
As I walk outside today -
Fully bare,
Exposed to all,
Never more womanly.
Actually,
I hardly think I ever knew
Until this moment,
What the word 'woman'
Really stood for,
Because in my house,
In my little-girl world,
The undomesticated
Version of 'she',
Was pretty much
Sight unseen.

I suppose that's because
‘She’ is an experience.
No amount of explaining
Or training
Or proclaiming
Of "I am woman hear me roar"
Can cause the kind of
Thunder and lightening storm
Of that feminine life force -
God born in the one
Who has the courage
To own that power
And grace!
With Jesus they called it "Christ",
Yet long before
There was Mother Earth...
Maker of miracles,
Divinity in form.

Which reminds me of those
Who go to the zoo,
Because they feel a need
To meet
The more polite variety
Of wild and true.
Make no mistake,
They know that they
Are nature in a cage,
Conveniently displayed
For the ones who are too
Afraid
To just be,
The divine sexy beast
With all of its god-given
Instinct.

Instead,
Meet the explosive progress
Of the 'civilized' world.
Where nature herself
Has gone underground,
Trampled
Tortured
Used
Abused
And raped,
While the patriarch pants
And aches,
To touch it
Drill it
Hold it
Show it
Own it
And sell it
For pure pleasure and profit.
"Supply and demand!"
I hear them say -
A simple equation
That any learned,
Band-wagon person
Is sure to agree upon.

Will we survive
This little way of life?
Fed and watered by fear,
Seems we are desperate
For that precious hit,
Of what we simply cannot believe...
We are already infused with.

Beauty Rested on my Hand

Fri, 15 Oct 2010 16:03:51 -0600

He’s so much more beautiful than the photo of a Black Swallowtail on the internet. What a gift to me today! My gorgeous new friend seemed to be having some trouble lifting off out of the grass in the front yard. I managed to distract my dog and cat away from this lovely treasure long enough to lend it a hand. At first he wouldn’t let go as I offered him a variety of safer and more elevated resting places... until finally, he joyfully latched onto the bark of a pine. I stood back and watched him very slowly, and very purposefully, inch his way up to a perfect little nook in the branches. So for now, here in the woods, Beauty is resting in a tree.

The Magic Island Birdman

Sun, 12 Sep 2010 12:12:45 -0600

I’m in Hawaii. I just wanted to share this delightful interaction from my morning walk. (Sorry, the photos are of poor quality because it was shot on my cell phone early in the morning.)

I politely asked him if I could take his photo. He said “yes,” and then he politely invited me to join him. Oh what fun to have zillions of beautiful doves and finches climbing all over your arms and hands! It only took a handful of seed and a few seconds of training from the Birdman - “The palms must be flat.” he said in a gentle, bird-like voice.

The Birdman shared a few stories about some of his other bird friends at his home in the mountains. He has quite a special relationship with them. It was a rare treat for me, as I have always adored the birds, and now I equally adore the Birdman.

Naming the Nameless

Thu, 22 Apr 2010 09:32:29 -0600

My human-spiritual conundrum is how to share something in the form of words that is wordless by nature. Once I name it or try to describe it, I feel I am dishonoring it. When I use the term “Divine Feminine” it is simply an attempt to meet others through the mind - through language or symbology - until we’re all comfortable with “what is” without naming it. I have asked myself many times, “Why should I even have a website?”. I imagine people stumbling upon this website, reading a few words and then based on their conditioning from the past, they will say “Ah, this person is talking about ____. I (hate/like) that.” And then they drop it into a properly labeled manila folder, tuck it into their “All That is Known” file cabinet, and are on with their busy lives. Perhaps you could imagine a series of visitations from the Unknown that by its very nature wipes all of your files or the hard drive of your mind and the bulk of your conditioning away. What might you be left with? How could you be in the world without labels or categories, including the image or persona that you have carefully crafted over time? This has been my life. I don’t have the convenience of hiding from myself anymore. It’s terrifying and blissful - all at once.

Only when the past is wiped clean
Can I be
Informed by something
Greater than
What I once thought was me

Suicide: Dying to Live

Mon, 20 Apr 2009 21:42:16 -0600

This is an audio file originally posted on an iTunes podcast. It was dated July 16, 2007. With more and more reports of suicide in America and worldwide, as well as my own personal experience of losing two friends in this way last year, I decided to re-post it here.

This is the Angelic, or more Universal view on the topic. The words and energy come through in a channeling or communion state.

Song “Under the Sun” from the Album Songs of Anima.