Birth is happening all around us.  Mother Earth is springing to life.  For those of us whose mothers have passed, there’s a bit of sadness in the weekend celebration and there’s also the knowing that life continues even as we release those we love.

I feel my ribs as they float the canoe of my being, heart stable and expansive in its ability to curve and flow pumping in and out.

I just finished a book by Jeanne Achterberg, Woman as Healer.  From prehistoric times to the present, there’s been peace, growth, and prosperity  when women were honored and revered for their role as healers and creators, as essential beings in this world we share.  When they were held down, dishonored, and demeaned, there was war.

I’d not realized the numbers of women burned at the stake during the Middle Ages.  Women were feared for their knowledge of herbs and healing, and destroyed.   

A neighbor shares that ten monarch butterflies just hatched from milkweed she planted.  What a gift as we honor and acknowledge we each have our own right to choose how we best serve, nourish and create.