Why did women wear horn headdresses throughout history in Europe and in the Slavic countries? Why were women here to wear hats and veils to certain places until the 1960s?
I searched for years and finally found a small mention of this in a very old piece of writing from Russia. A man said only women could bring LIFE. It is so powerful that people felt they needed to, ‘put a lid on it!’
I belong to the Church Of Jesus Christ Of Latter-Day Saints, and I’ve seen men hesitate to enter our women’s meetings many times. When someone finally asked we were given the answer, “You are so powerful- important. I hate I to interrupt! You’re probably creating worlds or something!”
Giving life- I hadn’t thought of it as so BIG probably because in this world anything immense will be used by a few in an immensely bad way, and that’s about all we see in media today.
Cultures, who don’t write down figures or read, see babies before they’re born and see and live with “dead” family members who live in trees next to their house.
Some homeless, not using their right brain (logical) capacities, know all about a new person at a moment’s glance.
Saturday I rushed past my neighbor without saying hello, so on Thursday I said, “Yesterday I ignored you. I apologize.”
“Yesterday all my troubles seemed so far away.” The troubles were gone on more than one day.
Stories of older times in Russia, America, and Europe tell something like this one found in, ‘The Highwayman’, by Craig Johnson. One night a woman finds a man in her teepee. They are intimate, but she fells somewhat uncomfortable. Reaching over to a pot of paint she dips her hand and smears red on his back. She finds she’s pregnant, so she inspects each man of her tribe and finds no red mark. The woman is out in the woods and encounters a wolf with a red mark on his back. The woman is uncomfortable, so she picks up a heavy stick and hits the wolf in the head. At home she finds a handsome man in her teepee. He carries a wound on his head. He is her son.
Time at the quantum physics level is the same as time within galaxies.
Immediately my cat rushed in and planted herself at full attention. She saluted a few feet in front of the television. I too stopped in my tracks. We couldn’t move, well except for my cat’s attentive ears. The orchestra played Ode To Joy then as soon as the choir began Formica, my cat, became stone still. I’d been busy, but I couldn’t move either. Formica sat and I stood close beside her. Formica’s ears began to twitch again as each solo was sung then the rhythms and voices mixed. I don’t know about Formica but I lived an entire life- time during that Joy; I was elated and exhausted.
Shakespeare wrote, “You say you love the rain, but you open your umbrella when it rains.
You say you love the sun, but you find a shape spot when the sun shines.
You say you love the wind, but you close your windows when the wind blows.
This is why I worry; you say you love me too.
I’ve caught myself thinking, “Father I love you,” but a few minutes later a thought comes to my mind- some way to be kind to another. I say, “I inside my head, “I don’t want to do that! It’s inconvenient. I’d look foolish.”
I’m learning to obey anyway.
Some may say obedience takes my freedom, but I’m like a dog on a leash. Wild dogs aren’t cared for when times get rough. There is a cause and affect in the universe and as I obey Father is free to take care of me.
Yesterday I saw a massively large dog at the park. I’ve seldom seen a dog with such muscle power and such liveliness. The giant dog was on a leash and dancing. He’d picked up his own leash about mid way between his neck and his person’s hand and carried it gleefully.
I can sing along with any opera now! I used to bring the words up on my computer and TRY to sing along with my untrained voice. It was grin! My cat would leave the room a little faster than her usual and casual countenance would allow.
Now I sing only one word to all opera arias. Now I can concentrate on improving the sound and timing, and my audience is mesmerized- spell bond- glued to her place. She stares at me then the tv, back and forth, where someone else is singing (with a trained voice), but my audience (my cat, Frormica,) prefers MY rendition!!!
You’re wondering; what is the one word; I meow. Formica prefers high notes while I generally sing base at church and at home. We’re both changing. Formica is now fascinated with songs sung in the low range, as long as all songs say meow, and I’m stretch into the high range. We’re both thrilled!
Sinking a in deep dread,
Mud of despair.
Like Napoleon’s soldier,
Trying to get home,
in deep dread snow,
Hiding in the belly,
Of a long dead horse.
I walked on frozen,
But, because of Christ,
I walked on mud.
I was married for about a year still basking a warm glow and soft fuzzies when I got the challenge. “Tell each member of your family seven things you like about them.” I was startled to find I could think of nothing not even ONE thing!
I realized I was so busy finding ways to improve everything and everyone around me and go forward that I didn’t realize and enjoy what I had.
I and some of my friends belong to the Church Of Jesus Christ Of Latter Dat Saints, and we believe we will be with our families after this mortal life. One friend, a widow, told me she misses her husband and can’t wait to be with him again, but she knows as soon as she’s with him she’ll miss her kids and grandkids.
My solution: look for good in those around you and TELL them. As an artist I’ve found I sometimes develop a skill but I don’t noticed I have it. It takes someone else to see it and verbalize it. Unless my new ability is pointed out to me it’s often LOST and so never developed. An added bonus: as I find good in others, my life fills up with the riches and goodness I see.
I see an article listed on TV about pangolins. I absolutely love those guys! I hope to see pangolins for a full hour, BUT instead I see a caretaker tell me how much she loves the animal. I see only a fraction of a second of my pangolin friend in the background. The person tells me about her life and a few facts about the animal and her concerns. I am concerned too, but I want to see pangolins not her, the interviewer, and the camera man.
I tune into a program on Chopin and hear no music. I hear about the life history of the pianist and conductor. In a program about art all the pictures are blocked by people taking about themselves.
I’m in therapy right now, and I find myself dreading the next appointment. I’m tired of talking about myself. I’m tired of selfies!
He chased me through the house! “He,” was John, my husband, and with a wrapped up gift in his hand he was saying,” You should open this now! Don’t you want to know what’s in it? Aren’t you curious? I bet you NEED to know. I think you need to know right now!”
I could only take it a few days then I’d relent. The first gift was always a flashlight of some exotic kind. John waited a day then attacked with the second gift. Luckily John bought quality not quantity. By the second week in December all were opened!
John is gone now but he left me with such great memories and flashlights and I realized, looking back, that having nothing to open on Christmas day was wonderful. The ACT of giving was so much more important that the act of receiving!
The dog was only mid- sized, but he pulled his person through the park after the squirrel.
The small fuzzy fellow was chased to a tree and spun around and around and up it as though he was red paint creating a candy cane tree. The dog spun around the trunk pulling her person with her in three shape circles. As the squirrel rested on a high branch, the dog gave an irate bark. The dog’s person steadied herself then she and her dog moved further into the park probably looking for more squirrels.
I like squirrels. I like squirrels very much, but if I had a passion for them as that dog does I’d love life deeper and more profoundly.