I come to you with fiery intention this day, for the plight of the Earth and all her inhabitants is heavy on my heart…
Before I became an elder, a Mary Poppins perspective ruled my world. Surely a spoonful of sugar would make everything all right. I didn’t read the newspaper because it only depressed me. Whenever friends remarked on how out-of-touch I was with current affairs, my standard reply: “Hey, I check the horizon every morning― no mushroom clouds?― it’s going to be a great day!”
9-11 changed everything. The wise words of Jean Shinoda Bolen came crashing down around me as the Twin Towers fell. “A Crone Does NOT Avert Her Eyes!”
My impotent naiveté died that day, and The Fierce Crone was born. As long as I refuse to SEE what is broken, I cannot help to heal it.
We can no longer afford to look away, fearing that something might offend our delicate senses. If we don’t look straight at the ugly, destructive forces at work all around us… if we won’t summon our greatest courage & creativity, join with others of like mind and spirit to stand fiercely against all that would devour Beauty, Truth, Love, and Light… then Doomsday is near.
As the earthquakes rattle, volcanoes spew, skies and oceans fill with poison, as our self-indulgent culture quivers, the ancient prophecies from countless traditions echo loudly in my ears. 2012 is less than two years away my friends. Will we rush like blind lemmings over some “inevitable” cliff, or finally call forth our full sacred human potential?
A MOST POIGNANT METAPHOR! In humanity’s ravenous quest for technological advancement, we’ve nearly severed our deep and essential connection with the natural world. When humans can inflict this kind of heartless, needless suffering on other beings without a second thought, planetary healing has a long, long way to go.
I met my latest wisdom-teacher, “Wizard,” (right) on May 10th. During his attempted escape, the broken chain of a cruel, illegal leg-hold trap wedged between my fence planks, tethering him there without food or water for several agonizing days before my Ocicat “Shamann” finally alerted me to his presence. Somehow, Wizard found his way to The Sacred Aerie. If he failed to chew-off his own leg to free himself, at least he would die on sacred ground…
After singing a Lakota healing song to comfort my critically wounded brother, The Fierce Crone leapt into action. No official agency was willing to help— not the Humane Society, not the Police Animal Control officer, not even The Department of Fish & Wildlife. All they offered was yet another phone number to call. Years ago, I might have given up, but my “relative” was suffering and a Fierce Crone doesn’t quit.
Long story short… at last a compassionate vet, a licensed wildlife rehab angel, a reluctant (but soon passionately involved) Animal Control officer, and a feisty crone joined forces to write a semi-happy ending to Wizard’s traumatic ordeal. He’s one paw short now, but recovering nicely at a rehab facility in the company of his own kind, scheduled for return to the wild within 2-3 months. In the meantime, he’s doing some mighty powerful sacred work by waking SOME of us up!
In fact, Wizard’s gripping story has just appeared in our local newspaper. With any luck, he may soon become the poster-boy for the National Humane Society’s anti-trapping campaign!