Poem - Random Wings

The colony of Death
sleeps, well hidden and upside down,
in the cavern during the daylight of daily life.
The hordes of flying forms usually spiral up and swarm out at twilight.
Yet, random wings might emerge
anytime
to tune in to the fluttering of our lives,
eating the juicy moth of our existence.
The balance of nature,
recycling our bodies into
the sweet smell of guano,
strong flapping of amazingly articulated wings,
body merging back into the world
within which
we too once ate and shat.
does the spirit thus set free
soar more easily
when we see death coming straight at us?
or shall we hope for annihilation from behind our backs, in the bliss of ignorance?

by Terra Rafael

Poem - Save the Children

“for a taste of how she lives, try eating your neighbors’ garbage.
Tina eats what other people throw away –
vegetable peelings, an apple core, a moldy piece of bread.
Where she lives, 7 out of 10 children suffer from malnutrition.
Their parents, although they work hard, can’t provide the barest needs…” (magazine ad)

my womb is the size of my fist is the
size of my heart
my womb could expand with a child if
an egg were incited.
they say there are too many children
& that’s why they’re starving,
too weak for crying.

my womb is the size of my fist is the
size of my heart
my fist becomes pregnant with anger & ripe
for a revolution when I know it’s
greed that leaves people hungry,
people dying.

my womb is the size of my fist is the
size of my heart
And my heart grows to bursting with caring
that children are sick because
rich men are not sharing.

-by Terra Rafael
all rights reserved

Patience with the Process - Excerpt from Giving Birth to Ourselves, contemplations for midwives

Babies do not usually pop out at once. Expulsion is a gradual process of descending and retreating which allows all involved to mold and stretch for minimum trauma. We let parents know that this is part of the normal flow of labor, not a problem.

Our selves do the same as we are born and reborn in so many ways. We may show our new found qualities to the world, only for them to disappear again for a while. We may despair of ever making it out all the way - and yet the baby will always be born. We need to remind ourselves that relapses are a normal part of personal growth. Each retreat is a chance to relax, reassess, renew and find our way out with more appreciation for the process.

Contemplations--

• How do I react to relapses into old behavior patterns?
• Can I distinguish between choosing to do something in a new context and doing the same thing out of unconscious habit?
• Do relapses into old behavior patterns bring on fear of being trapped in the past?
• Am I willing to see my growth as a process rather than an all or nothing situation?
• Am I willing to promptly admit when I relapse and work with it?

Activities--

* When a relapse occurs affirmations can be a helpful reminder to break the old behavior pattern. Examples
“I can fulfill my needs by conscious choice rather than by habit."
“I’m willing to change."
"I'm beginning to change."
"Relapses are part of the process."
"Life is a spiral - I'm in the same place & a different place at the same time. Now I can choose."

* Pay attention to your thoughts during a relapse & how they may feed self punishment. Write them down. Say them out loud (in privacy or with someone who will not be brutalized by hearing them). Examine them carefully for their truths and untruths.


--by Terra Rafael
excerpt from Giving Birth to Ourselves, contemplations for midwives, 2009
available from lulu.com

http://www.lulu.com/content/paperback-book/giving-birth-to-ourselves-2nd-edition/7233381

In The Night

I would hear his footsteps approaching me in the night. Lying there, I'd pretend that I was asleep, stomach clenched, muscles taut with anxiety-- an innocent fawn caught in the inappropriate headlight-gaze of his eyes. I kept my eyes closed hoping to make my uncle disappear, but he pressed himself against the boundaries of my skin. I learned to leave my body.

Over fifty years later, I still sometimes wake in the night. Are those sounds my stepson creeping around downstairs? Or is it a burglar stealing my laptop, along with all of my writings and my purse with my identity in it?

Then I consider how I was duped by Facebook. I just found out that what I post there belongs to Facebook forever- even if I quit Facebook and delete my page. They can use is as they will. My pictures. My essays. My poems. Anger at unseen faces, those people who make policies hidden in a dark wall of legalese. But we all just click “Agree”, still in the dark, so that we can play with all the others on-line.

Tired of thoughts spinning through my head and fear and anger roiling in my gut, I get up and go downstairs to survey the damage wrought by the burglar—or not. I turn on the light. Everything is safely in its place. I sit down and pick up my pen to write this in my journal.
--by Terra Rafael

Plagued by "Female Problems?"

The Women’s Movement freed women to participate more fully in the world. But it hasn’t freed women from a secret shackle—“female problems”. Menstrual difficulties and other problems associated with women’s special anatomy and physiology may plague women even more today than in the days of our grandmothers. Our active lifestyles, work stress, eating on the run, and lack of deep relaxation add up to increased probability of PMS, menstrual cramps, irregular cycles, abnormal pap smears, fertility problems, pregnancy complications, and perimenopausal discomforts.

Luckily, we don’t need to turn back the clock or rely only on questionable medications to care for our feminine core. We can soothe it and allow for healthy functioning using lifestyle, diet, massage & herbs. A history & physical evaluation with a holistic practitioner helps map out a plan of action & care to bring the uterus and the whole woman into balance again.

Ayurveda, the “Science of Life” is an ancient healing system from India. For “female problems” it offers basic information on proper self care during the times when women’s bodies are vulnerable. Suitable diet, digestion & herbs for the woman can support the nervous system for better resilience under stress, as well as directly feed the reproductive system. Pulse reading tunes in to the subtle, early conditions of imbalance and allows for treatment in subtle ways before they solidify into denser forms, such as cysts, fibroids, or endometriosis. With more advanced problems healing may require more time and stronger therapies. Through various techniques & teachings, Ayurvedic work heals deeply.

Maya Abdominal Massage offers great relief for many women, sometimes bringing menstrual relief after only one therapy session. Self massage techniques are taught to do regularly, between sessions. This adds impetus for better uterine positioning, greater circulation, lymphatic cleansing, and optimization of herbal therapies and the body’s own hormonal messages. Maya Massage also helps release traumas and emotions stored in the pelvic-abdominal region that may restrict healthy flow & function.

Through such holistic techniques “female problems” need not be part of the legacy of women’s greater role in the world.
--by Terra Rafael

A Birth Poem

The quick red fox crossed my path on the way to your birth.
He held his dinner in his mouth -the leg of a deer –
no doubt stolen from the mountain lion's kill.
Your parents hungered for you. They had to stop running
to let you catch up to them.
When you came to grow in your mother, she shared all she ate with you.
She learned to eat & eat & eat.
You birthed slowly at first, slyly finding a way down the trail your mother blazed for you with her strength & courage.
Then - you were suddenly here - long & lean & learning to breathe.
We sang your eyes open.
--by Terra Rafael
You seemed captive by so many of us surrounding you,
so we left you to rest in the arms of your mother & father.
Then you were peaceful.
They welcomed you to your mountain home & their hearts.
And the sunrise blazed red across the sky to bring you newborn light.

Memoir- Grandma's Wood Stove

Real fire cooked the food I ate. My Grandma Moan had a big cast iron wood stove in her kitchen. It radiated warmth in the winter so I loved sitting close by. Looking down into the round holes that are usually covered with their metal covers was fascinating to me – seeing the glowing hot embers that made the even heat to bake with was magic. The special silver wound handle used to lift off that metal cover by fitting into the notch and leveraging it out was exotic.

My Grandma chopped her own wood. Even when she was past 80 years old. She was tiny but powerful. As a child I was almost her height. She endeared us to her even more by the “hole” cookies she always offered us. They were simple sugar cookies cut out with a doughnut cookie cutter and sprinkled with sugar so that they sparkled a bit. They came from that magical wood stove.

The table nearby was covered with a checkered oil cloth table cloth. We'd sit there, cozy by the fire, on a cold morning when we were visiting, eating some cream of wheat. Later in the day we'd play Old Maid or Slap Jack with our Aunt Edna, a real old maid, who lived her whole life with Grandma, until Grandma died. Edna had been crippled by being hit by a car. Her left hand was limp and her leg never worked the same after that. But she always made me laugh when she would make her hand into a spider that crawled up my arm, tickling, while her dark eyes twinkled.
---by Terra Rafael