Still Following the Bee: Great Hive of BEEing November 6, 2016Posted by wimynspeak in General, Workshops.
Tags: being, collage, communion, creativity, hive, Inspiration, presence, queen, quiet, sacred, women, writing
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Still Following the Bee: Great Hive of BEEing
Intuitive COLLAGE Workshop for Women
Rosemary Court Yoga Studio, 810 Central Avenue, Sarasota
Saturday, November 19, from 2:00-5:00PM
You close your eyes and listen to the still aloneness that seems to envelop you like a soft, warm blanket. Your body quiets and you imagine yourself entering the great hall of the great queen, creative sovereign of this sacred realm. She has summoned you, and you honor her with your presence. When you open your eyes, you find that you are not alone after all, for the great hall is filled to capacity and you are caught in the crush of all that is supportive and wondrous. The queen offers her communion, and all present in the Great Hive of BEEing accept her gift with gracious gratitude …
Come join us as we use the intuitive collage process as well as simple creative writing prompts to enter the Great Hive of BEEing and enjoy the communion of our inner queen, calling us to BEE.
Open Pricing * Please pay generously according to your means.
Advance registration is required. Let me know if you can join us!
Calling the Teacher April 30, 2014Posted by wimynspeak in Bee Write!, General.
Tags: ancient, belief, bones, circle, daughter, father, legend, magick, memory, moment, mother, myth, now, sacred, secret, sister, teacher, wolf
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When the wolf bones are arranged just so, we are told, on just the right night, at precisely the right time, it is said that the teacher will appear. No one living today has seen the teacher, and I am hoping to be one of the first. Legend says she is both kind and awful, beautiful and hideous, the giver of life and its merciless taker. The ritual for calling her has been passed down — the setting of the circle and the correct arrangement of the bones — but until now, no one could recall the other necessary details: the right night, the right time, the right words for her calling. In a world such as this, I think for one dissentient moment, that values wealth and individual gain at the expense of others, perhaps there is no right night, right time. Perhaps the words have been dissolved and we have been abandoned.
The ancient fathers knew better, we are told, knew to leave this holy communion to the women, the sisters and daughters of Gaia. But the men somehow forgot their own sacred role, and the women’s belief in magick began to fade. And so the world was altered and the secret was left behind to lie dormant in the shadowy vault of irrelevance, where it has remained a misty, ephemeral memory with no more substance than a dream. Until now . . .