Red Madonna Journal Cover
Under the Miriam Tree

Return to the Red Tent

 

About three fifths of the way through Dr. Estes’ Women Who Walk With the Wolves, there is a story called “The Three Gold Hairs”, wherein an old man lost in the forest finds his way to the wise woman’s hearth, who takes him in and rocks him in her arms. And as she sings to him and rocks him before her fire, he youthens; and when the dawn comes, he flies up to the sky to become the brilliant morning sun.

From 2015 through 2017, the Red Madonna Sisterhood, a creative spiritual practice group held within the container of Intentional Creativity, was my center and my source. I have been gone from the Red Tent now for nearly four years, and I feel like that old man, ready to climb up into the Red Madonna’s (the red-veiled Black Madonna) welcoming lap, and be rejuvenated by her welcoming embrace and restorative song.

I never meant to be gone so long.

I come back to find my studio (my physical space) is neglected at best…maybe even ransacked. Scavenged by other versions of myself trying to get through these barren years until the day I could get back home. Back to the Red Madonna Sisterhood. My Source of Living Water.

I am dry as dust, so long away from the Mother’s wellspring. I must be here and soak it all in. I will not, perhaps, have so much to share at first: I have been away too long. FAR too long. I will bathe in the healing waters my sisters are pouring out. I will be baptized in the love of this deep pool of Grandmother Wisdom being filled from the gathering streams of the sisters assembled.

I listened to Reb Havi Tehila’s “Welcome to the Red Tent” video on Sunday night, and for her exquisite meditation I stepped outside in the rain. The sun had already gone down, but the rain was so gentle, and I could feel the water all over my skin. It connected me so easily to everything. To my beloved entourage of angels and guides. To Pachamama. To All Creation.

The Linden Tree behind my house was lit from below by my porch lights, and it was so beautiful: a protective space filled with light. Her leaves are dropping fast now, a gift to make good compost for next year’s gardens. She is my Grandmother Tree, and my home is Mother House.

For the first time in a long time, I am eager to get on with things. I look at my dusty sewing machine and think of my great grandmother’s crazy quilts. What a lovely altar cloth a crazy quilt would make, don’t you think?

 

Related Links

For more information about Intentional Creativity: https://www.intentionalcreativityfoundation.org/ 

For information about the Red Madonna Sisterhood “Forest of Grandmothers” 13-Moon Cycle: https://musea.org/forest-of-grandmothers/ 

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