Know that at this time we are protected, not just by ever-present divinity, but through the complete awareness of our own worth. With the satisfaction of such completion, we feel strong and powerful, actively part of all things.
Instead of celebrating our connection and relationship to the changing seasons and cycles of nature -- as in the original May Day -- we have turned it into a spring holiday.
This week, gently consider where soul sustenance has become rote. This is a bold undertaking from inside the comfort zone.
We are a body full of color and fragrance. We are a cycle of life unto ourselves, and we have good cause to celebrate our body -- our flesh -- for we have no knowledge of what is to come beyond this moment, this life, this body.
Is there some subterranean -- even subversive -- connection between spring celebration of the Earth and spring celebration of work and time for rest?
Today's Maytime Faerie Festivals, including Spoutwood Farm's May Day Fairie Festival, the Maryland Faerie Festival, and the New York Faerie Festival, are outgrowths of this vibrant May tradition. They feature kings and queens, Maypole dances, flower garlands and beautiful costumes.
Margaret Thatcher was a big part of my formative landscape. She fueled much of my political consciousness, my sense of justice and injustice, my outrage at lies and oppression, my sense of right and wrong.
Many years ago a student told me a story about her childhood dreams that still haunts me. It's not a happy story -- in fact, I find it incredibly sad -- but it's kept me thinking about what we know, and don't know, about the potentials of dreaming.
We find ourselves on the precipice of a new season. Here in the Northern Hemisphere we observe the Spring Equinox, the moment when the light of day and the darkness of night are equal. Today, if but for a single moment, there is perfect balance.
Byrne, best known as the sympathetic therapist Paul Weston in HBO's series In Treatment and movie The Usual Suspects, shared his views on the importance of storytelling and why we're more similar to the Viking culture than we may realize.
We are damaging ourselves, our souls, and the earth. We are dealing out death at a distance, and slowly dying inside. Freedom is hard to bear. But so is war. So is our enslavement and inner blindness.
At least books and films such as "Harry Potter" and "Beautiful Creatures" have started to bring the popular image of the witch beyond the realm of the 16th-century pointed hat. But now it's time to move forward still further into the 21st century.
My partner of 18 years died last year, and in addition to grieving the loss of his tender presence and our precious time together, I've watched helplessly as my spiritual foundations have crumbled around me. I wasn't prepared for this, and I'm having a crisis of faith.
Normalization of the journey experience isn't failure. It's natural, it's progress, integration. The act of journeying is a relationship, not just the connections we make from it.
Faith is a difficult proposition for many of us. Faith requires a letting go, a surrender of will. Few among us leap at the idea. Having faith, doing faith in a religious context, is not something I'm very practiced at these days. But come February, faith is the call of the land.