Laboring For The Day

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09/02/2013 by syrbal-labrys


Rosary for America

Yesterday, out mixing errands with pleasant things like visiting Wright Park’s W. W. Seymour Conservatory, as we do the final weekend of each month; we visited a little shop of curiosities in downtown Tacoma. It hosts a candy store, a tea shop, an intuitive reader, and a mix of almost antiques/art/Steampunk’d articles. It was that fun kind of shop to knock about in, listening to pleasant music and smelling delicious things. And when we were almost out the door? I saw a package of green beads.

Beads stamped in a mold of rose-shape. They were made of rose petals, inexplicably dyed green, and scentless with age. I purchased them and brought them home. I sacrificed one of them at once by dropping it into a dish of hot water to see if it dissolved….or whether I’d been snookered. Happily, it dissolved. I revived the rose scent in the remaining 51 beads by mixing a 1/2 teaspoon of grapeseed oil with about five drops of precious pure rose essential oil and tossed the beads till all were well coated. I left them to soak up the oil overnight.

This morning, thinking of Labor Day and the state of my nation, I strung them with tiny seed beads between and a wee flag stolen from a stamp. They smell marvelous and the warmth of neck or hand makes the rose scent rise like a healing vapor! I rather like the green color, in retrospect — the color of growing life, of ecological hope, and well, yes, in America, the color of money. I don’t do conventional prayer to a deity; I do mantras and recitations of intent. So here, is my “rosary” for America…one per state and one for the District of Columbia. And my mantra for my frightened-out-of-itself nation? Courtesy of Frank Herbert:

I must not fear.
Fear is the mind killer.
Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past,
I will turn the Inner Eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.
Only I will remain.
Only I will remain.

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Herland

The name of this blog, and my Dreamwidth blog, Herlander Refugee, is taken from a 1915 feminist novel "Herland". It makes my heart sing that modern women are experimenting with creation of a new "Herland"! Yes, comments are closed. Anyone who just MUST reach me can do so at syrbal6 at gmail dot com.

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