A Matter of Choice.
I am not a feminist or a professional business woman. I took the more traditional path as a wife and mother. I am also an entrepreneur. I find I can balance the male and female within myself. Jungian Psychology calls this balancing the Anima and Animus. I am creatively involved in projects that have meaning to me and beyond myself or the extramundane. I am naturally a supportive person that likes home, intimate relationships and small pubs. My goals are based on love not profits. I am learning to be very happy to cross the bridge of financial stability and independence.
I dedicate this day to the character Maggie Paul played by Marsha Mason from the film Cinderella Liberty (1973).
Maggie Paul curtains for rainy days in our bathroom.
Papa gave mama a crystal in computer room for inspiration…
The outdoor crystal that merges with nature and the Sun.
Doing the laundry is never dull work in my home.
Sony the white mustang and me
“I’ve learned to hurl the tomahawk and ride a painted pony wild
To run the gauntlet of the Sioux, to make a chieftain’s daughter mine”
~From Elton John’s 1971 album “Madman Across the Water.” The song was written after lyricist Bernie Taupin’s first visit to America, on the first tour in 1970.
I awoke to this song playing in my head. The lyrics are in my heart always. The song brings back my memories of riding the hills of the Santa Monica mountains in the early 1970s. Nature called our names as the wild sage did hug our thighs. We rode our painted ponies wild as we sang this song aloud. We were held up and whirled into a time when everything had meaning. Schools, education, social pressures and family problems all erased. We galloped with the ghosts of a spirituality I only now begin to understand. Currently as a crone it is infusing my spirit with the wonder, beauty and sadness of life.
The Adventures of Sony and Raubie
At about 8 o’clock PM.
The unpredictable Crazy days are far behind me and the routines of life have set in. Family and cats bring the little rituals of life which brings symmetry into the chaos of living such as; racing through traffic and surviving, watching current politics and not having a heart attack, and realizing that we all die. It is comforting to know that we live in a recycling universe, or so it seems. The point being within the light and darkness of life are the routines of everyday living that does bring joy.
Last night was a normal trash night. The difference in the routine is when husband said that there are two cars parked in our unmarked-marked trash can places. The usual sounds of annoyance on his part made me think about visiting with our new neighbors and asking them to move one of the cars so we might have a place for our trash cans.
The green sweat coat with 1976 on it pulled over my shoulders and I was off. I found myself in front of the neighbor’s house. Placing a knock knock and then pushing a ring ring upon their door and door button. Something expanded when I heard the ring ring.
It was a different kind of ring ring. It being a tasteful and alluring sound. The front door was half window and I could see in as one of my neighbors looked back at me. I mumbled something about the trash cans. The neighbor’s eyes widened open. Dressed in a light blue robe, looking confused my neighbor opened the door slightly. Having a face that was angular like something out of a Pablo Picasso paining such as Les Demoiselles d’Avignon, 1907 during his cubism period; caught me off guard.
The new neighbors had radically changed the format and structure of the house since the last owner. As the door opened there was only a white hallway that met about half way through the house. Directly on the wall before me was a giant painting of what looked like a Toulouse-Lautrec, Jane Avril Dancing painting. Yet this painting was one woman with her leg up and a giant red dress like a blooming flower. Once there were two rooms here one leading right and one left. One into a game room and the other into the kitchen. Not anymore. Straight ahead was a veil into another reality.
Our conversation was quick. I told the neighbor our problem. Nicely I was told that each of them had a masseuse come out for a special treat message and that the cars were theirs. I was also told that both of them were almost finished.
Like clockwork each masseuse left in their two separate cars. I put out my two trash cans under the crescent moon of a very dark night. Feeling nicely surreal and wondering about our new neighbors?
It may seem backwards but not from my mothering heart. My son now faces his first romantic suffering. What can I do but be silent & be there for him as he works and plays. I know his heart is broken. He must endure and become stronger and with empathy move on. To oldest son “he” is the Wild Rose…. and she is the “young boy.” It is OK to change things around…. both are not safe from the pains of love, first love!
Poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Lieder by Franz Schubert.
Receptive, illumination and synchronicity, I’m a wise old blooming flower, waiting to be pollinated, I’m receptive to what I shall become, Let life approach me, I do not have to go seeking, I have all I need to succeed, I’m a beautiful rose,
wise, good and ready.
I can be trusted, I follow things through, I speak my mind, Let the spirit of god / goddess, move over my deep dark waters.
Receptive as an open flower. Now, waiting for life to impregnate me.
“The Rose makes honey,” the rose gives honey in return.
Posted in Holly Duval Cornell's Poems & Prose
Tagged Art, beauty, Depth Psychology, Esoteric, Goddess and Home, poems, poetry, postaday, spirituality, Synchronicity, Women, Writing
I was thinking how Crones,
are not as influenced
by the cycles of the Moon!
I look back over
my feminine life
Seeing how unconsciously
I was driven.
Influenced by the phases
of the Moon,
my powerfully changing hormones!
Best described as chemical slavery.
A female body
a lunar ebb and flow alignment
with the continuity of our Moon!
I now see it also as a partial
cultural brainwashing where;
sex, power, and self-worth,
is somehow all tied together!
Yes, Crones have desires
needs of love and intimacy
I have come to experience
Crones are no longer ruled
by the cycles of the Moon
or our hormones!
There is the higher octave
of the Moon,
known as planet Neptune
dancing with the astrological
sign of Cancer
I join in this brightly aware dance!
The flutter of hormones
emotional ways become silent
to the constant
moving river of insight!
our external beauty wanes
our internal beauty waxes
as a luminous pearl
I embrace my pearl.
Consciously I slough off
many burdensome illusions
This is the correct time
An ongoing relationship
Between psyche and the cosmos.
“The human organism is seen as a minute representation of the cosmos… we are mirroring.” Pg. 82
I can still feel that moment, time standing still, power ~a Pluto moment…
I remember impressions of many dreams. The thread I pulled from a dream last night seemed real. I pulled it into waking life.
I asked, “Are we at war?”
“Yes,” was the reply.
I saw before me a military jeep. It was a camouflage green. The person driving it was a heavy-set man dressed in camouflage green. He had black hair and a black mustache. He was driving on a muddy field towards somewhere. He was carrying a nuclear weapon /device. I was standing near a wired fence. The device fell out and the bomb went off.
I was with John as the bomb exploded. I knew I would be dead. The dread of what was happening filled me. I felt pressure and the light was all around me. As if a giant monster took a deep breath. I was right in the middle. In the eye of the storm I listened, waiting for the exhale. For everything to be torn apart. My consciousness is aware of time. Time was standing still. What a profound feeling. A moment of silence. Quiet awareness before annihilation !
” As representation of the underlying process of life, death and rebirth of the struggle of opposites and their resolution. Archetypes, images in their multitude or social and historical forms draw human beings into connection with the primary most pervasive process of the universe.” ~ Pg 85 Jung, Synchronicity and Human Destiny. ~Ira Progoff
Ghoulish is one who delights in the revolting, morbid, or loathsome.
Today is a day of terror and disdain in New York. Another violent attack on innocent people. The last month or so has been very revolting, morbid and loathsome. An attack on the soul of humanity…very sad.
I am not one who delights in the revolting, morbid or loathsome. Halloween is about running around and getting free candy. It is a time of parties with friends and family. The graceful time of honoring our ancestors.
Spirits ascend but come to visit us in the wind and in our hearts and our memories.
My cave is safe and warm with love.
A love song for all of us… what a ghoulish time.