Palm Sunday 2009

I didn't even realize that it is Palm Sunday and that Holy Week starts today. I grew up so strongly christian that I always kept the Christian calendar in mind but no longer. Now I follow the seasons as they unfold and I have returned to an older order-the order of the Mother. I was always interested in the women-Mary, Mary Magdalene, Ann,Esther, Ruth. the men were always out killing someone and condemning women to be stoned, etc. Over the years I have grown away from Christianity and the division was so great that morning reading the Nicene Creed and just having this intuition that these men did not believe any of the words but they did believe in making their workers and servants believe. Father George believed in the resurrection but I don't know since I have nothing but faith and my faith is gone now but it is only the faith in the Christian Bible that has been lost my faith in the holy center of my life remains-god especially god the father has always been part of my conscience and god the mother just grows and grows showing u first as an old naked woman who lived high in the red rocks in a cave-oh how I loved to go to see her and stay there in a little alcove. she was so loving and explained things to me so that I began to come free of the imprinting of the patriarchal christian culture. then she changed into the Jungian analyst who taught me how to come free of nicotine and who continued the work on my inferiority complex showing me that the feeling of being inferior was the root of addiction. Now she seems to be a soft,old woman much like myself-wise to the world but not overly interested, unwilling to explain what can only be found ( I beleive that I , like her ,would try but only for someone who asked repatedly to hear.) Well that is pretentious on my part-I am not the Mother but I turn to her repeatedly and I imagine I am still vulnerable to thinking that I am what I perceive. I am no witch yet but I do aspire-the only solution I have come up with is to teach the children to garden, encourage them to learn to sew and practice needlepoint,etc, teach the children to "put-up" the excess from their gardens and to cook. At the center of these beliefs is the mother of the Curtis family who rented out our basement. She had a speech impediment, untreated of course, and so had to marry old man Curtis who seemed quite unevolved "a silent, taciturn man". She loved her children fiercely and they were constanly industrious making rag rugs which were homely but would be treasured now, and making nutritious frugal meals and sewing clothes and patching
Interrupted to make breakfast for family members meaning the grandson and the spouse and there goes my mood for writing. I will get back to Mrs Curtis, Mary Ann and Buddy. I loved them although they frightened me. The father was very scary and Mrs. Curtis was so distainful of us the property owners whose mother ignored us and had had a child out of wedlock that she gave up for adoption (12/26/1943). we were to her mind undisciplined rude little brats. Or so the expression on her face said. The kids were very wonderful and tried to teach me what they knew of gardening and cooking and sewing and knitting