A Message from the Little Grandmother

Happy Saturday, my fellow Toads! I hope this message from the Little Grandmother, Kiesha Crowther,  lifts your heart and inspires you to know that, no matter how many terrifying and horrible images we see on the evening news,  we still, each in our own way, have the power to make a difference in the corner where we are. We have much that we can contribute ~ to this earth, and to other beings.

April is the month of the Pink Moon. This Moon has a dark star, which shines across the abyss, reminding us that we are made of the same stuff as the stars. That's what keeps us looking up, into the heavens, feeling our connection to the unfathomable beauty and mystery of the spheres.

Here on earth,  things are not too rosy. How do we keep our spirit strong and hopeful, in a world ruled by warring nations, where humankind is at war with each other, and with nature itself? How do we deal with the heartbreak, we who know we are all connected to every other being on the planet, yet watching humans destroying other humans, wildlife, resources?

Where does our wild nature go, that wants to run joyously through the trees, watching the devastated hillsides, all the trees  cut down and taken away in trucks? How do we keep our hearts from breaking, when we see wolves being shot from helicopters on the news, and it is all just so terribly wrong? How do we hold the dream of beauty that is the earth itself, against the nightmare human beings are enacting everywhere?

We try to keep our balance, between the horrifying images we see on our television and computer screens, and  our deep knowing of the beautiful, wild, living Mother Earth we love so much, who shines her beauty on us, even while we are so wantonly destructive. We know how we are meant to be. How do we be it, when we see a million others exuding war, hatred and devastation? We who know must hold tightly our vision of the beauty of Mother Earth, support her in her struggle to survive the assault of humankind. She needs our help now as never before.

Your challenge: Write about how you manage to maintain that balance, how you hold onto the beauty and the hope. Write about what heals you, or about any facet of this conversation that resonates with you. I'm easy, and I will truly love everything you write!

Personal Challenge: INGWAVUMA

INGWAVUMA, LION KING

photo from Global White Lion Protection Trust

Hello, my fellow pond dwellers. Sherry here. When Shay issued me a personal challenge, she made it easy on my old gray matter - she asked me to write a poem with an animal theme, but to make it rhyme. Luckily, it was a day when my neurons were firing, and I remembered the true story of this beautiful lion, from the best book I ever read, The Mystery of the White Lions. I beg your indulgence as to the rhyming. Thank you, Shay, for the animal theme, my fave, as you know.

INGWAVUMA

The White Lions of Timbavati
are wandering through my dreams.
Enlightenment bearers,
beings as old as time's moonbeams,
born under an ancient star that fell to earth,
they carry a message:
Choose eternal darkness or rebirth.

The shaman says:
"At the end of the world, a white lion
will roar for the last time.
The sun will disappear forever from the sky.
If white lions vanish from the land,
we all will cease to be,"
too late, by then, to begin to wonder why.

Ingwavuma, Sun God, captive,
backed against the rock,
trapped, he turned and stared his hunters down.
He offered humankind a choice:
the Light, or stay forever in the dark,
our fate determined by the bullets' arc.

He walked towards them proudly, unafraid.
They chose, for they had paid.
They raised their guns.
He walked to meet his fate, his eyes old fire,
and, as he fell, his last roar dimmed the sun.

Ingwavuma died aligned with his heart star,
in the Leo constellation from which he came,
marking the proud death of a Lion King -
(they tell me Ingwavuma was his name.)
The human psyche will forever
bear the scar.

Their shots rang out.
Ingwavuma, spirit undefeated, fell.
The hunters chose our fate.
There is little more to tell.

This story is told in The Mystery of the White Lions, Children of the Sun God, by Linda Tucker, who is in love with the white lions. She formed the Global White Lion Protection Trust, and protects those she has been able to rescue in a wild sanctuary in their ancestral home of Timbavati, in an effort to keep them from being hunted to extinction. There they roam free, hunt and raise their cubs wild, but in  protected territory. 

The only other known white lions are kept in captivity, some in a compound in the USA, the others in a compound in Africa for Great White Hunters to shoot, in an enclosure where there is no escape, for a fee of $35,000, and a piece of their souls.

The courageous Ingwavuma, whom Linda knew and loved,  was not himself a white lion but was believed to carry the gene, so he would have sired white lions. He was cornered in a "hunting" enclosure. When he saw there was no escape, he did not cower. He met his fate bravely and, thereby, those hunters perhaps cursed mankind to eternal darkness. Certainly their hearts were dark.

Shaman Credo Mutwa told Linda that, long ago, a star fell to earth, after which all animals in the area where it fell bore white offspring, the few remaining white lions descending from that time. The shaman says the white lions, who have blue eyes, guard a secret that can save humankind: to turn towards enlightenment, or remain forever in darkness. He says when the last white lion is gone, the sun will disappear. It is, perhaps, the most fascinating and stirring book I have ever read.

The exact time and date that Ingwavuma was murdered is the only time the setting sun was aligned with Regulus,  the heart star in the Leo constellation, symbolizing the birth or death of a Lion King and, consequently, the birth or death of life on earth.

I posted the story of Linda Tucker and the white lions here, should you care to read more. I recommend the book highly.

photo from the Global White Lion Trust website

Sunday Mini-Challenge ~ Release Your Inner Wild Woman

"Inspire Wings"

copyright ~ Ella of Ella's Edge

Within every woman

there is a wild and natural creature,

a powerful force,

filled with good instincts,

passionate creativity,

and ageless knowing.

-Clarissa Pinkola Estes

Kids, today, for our Sunday mini-challenge, I’d like to ask you to release your inner wild woman, in whatever way you view that essential Womyn who lives at the center of your being. You know her. You have heard her voice, her quiet wisdom, as she tried to guide you away from danger and onto the path of your personal journey, the journey that is yours alone to make, whether or not you walk it accompanied.

"Inspire Angela"

copyright ~ Ella of Ella's Edge

Show us her wild abandon, her cackling laughter, her primal dance to the beat of the drum. Whisper her True Knowing,  that you have to be still and quiet to hear. Tell us how you ran from her when young, with what relief you returned to her as you aged. What makes your inner wild woman sing? What makes her weep?

As inspiration, Ella of Ella's Edge has provided us with three BEAUTIFUL pictures, of her own artistic design. They literally take my breath away.

"Inspire Howl Wing"

copyright ~ Ella of Ella's Edge

For more ideas, check out THE Wild Woman: Clarissa Pinkola Estes, who wrote Women Who Run With the Wolves. Here is some further inspiration: Estes quotes about creativity against beautiful scenic backgrounds, with music.

                            
                            

     

Browse Starhawk’s blog or writings, inviting us to dance joyously on the earth, to be one with the Earth Mother. Or visit SARK’s "transformational playground", and hear her exhortations to “live juicily”.

Some of us might be quieter (or tired-er) Wild Women, who tend to sit on our porches, rocking and smiling benignly, remembering our younger days, of bursting out of cages into freedom. But whether you are unfettered or tamed, somewhere within you I know you hear Wild Woman’s call – to freedom, to joyousness,  to being who you are meant to be, to true primal Womynhood. Tell us how she speaks to you, how you respond, if you wish to. Or, if this is too Out There for you, tell us about a wild woman or crone that you know.  We all know them, those old wrinkled creatures who contain a hundred years of history and wisdom behind their wise, smiling, ancient eyes.

Most of all, be free, be heard, and have fun! That’s what Wild Women do best!