Eliza Daley ~ Wordcraft & Musing on Home & Hope
The problem? How do you mark this day? Most years, I don’t. I’m not Hispanic. My best friend growing up was Mayan and there were complicated feelings about Mexico related to that. I never thought there was much to celebrate. We learned in grade school that it’s a commemoration of a 19th century Mexican victory… Continue reading Cinco de Mayo
There are not merely seven colors in the rainbow. Have you noticed? Of course, you have in some sense. But have you really noticed. If so, if this is generally noticed, then why do we require every school child to learn this easily disprovable “fact”? We can all see it has no basis. Even its… Continue reading Blinkered: On Time and Being
Come, now a roundel by Arthur Rackham (1908) she made her feathered nest in the tangled boughs of oak, ash, thorn and found mushroom echoes of moonbeams she delved for essence among the hawthorn roots and brought woven certainty to light she entered the ring where faeries are dancing and knew the wheel’s ceaseless turning… Continue reading the thorn path
A Way of Life for Earth Bodies Headline News... We interrupt this meditation on being good to note that being good has responsibilities — including civic, maybe mostly civic, as relation to others is how good is defined. And today is showing that we have quite a lot of work to do. It's time to… Continue reading Religious, Not Especially Spiritual
A Way of Life for Earth Bodies In my continuing examination of life and meaning and ways of being in this world, I have determined that I am the inverse of “spiritual but not religious”. I am religious, but I am not particularly spiritual. Or at least I do not think spirit has much bearing… Continue reading Religious, Not Especially Spiritual
Well, April was an adventure! I changed jobs — so that I wouldn’t have to go on furlough for the whole first quarter of the year ever again — and had to deal with over two weeks of COVID, my second round of the virus. (Vaccines keep me alive and generally out of the hospital,… Continue reading A Return to Roots
the thorn queen she waxes full in fertile grace queen of quick and fay, she reigns in mantle green and seemly face quelling fear and mortal pains eternal mother, ever maid undying wisdom in her glance deathless weird is on her laid to spin th' unceasing wheel of chance again, she comes in crown of… Continue reading Bealtaine
we are the bonfire on the mountain the light in the waning days we are the chthonic mothers the crones singing lullabies under dark moons we are the eyes on trespass the elder judges, pockets brimming with vindication we are the keepers of truth the guardians on the gates of futures unbroken we are the… Continue reading balefire
We have a fraught relationship with trees. To mask our utter dependence on the green world and to justify taking whatever we desire from the planet, we have stripped even the possibility of consciousness from other life forms, woody ones in particular. We name them resources, so that the value of trees is determined only… Continue reading Arbor Day
to be a flower is profound responsibility — emily dickinson we are atrophied arrested in infancy lapped in trifling concerns want, desire, lust all trivial, all meaningless bounded by self in isolation yielding naught but wasted precious time we pursue this void aimlessly assiduously avoiding essence because truth is written materially plain to see in… Continue reading floralia
By My Solitary Hearth 