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Updated 01/09/2004
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Spring Newsletter 2003

pic1 After a whirlwind of a visit with my eldest daughter Loi, and our only grandchild Wynn (plus their two cats Scrappy and Sofia), the Muse commands me to share our news with you. Loi is on her way to Law School in Berkeley and re-locating to Santa Rosa, California. Wynn and her mother visited with us in Utah for almost 2 weeks this April. Wynn can be credited with such hilarious quotes as this -- when I asked Loi during an astrology reading what house she wanted me to focus on, Wynn volunteered, “Focus on the house with the hot tub and swimming pool”.

In preparation for their visit, I got a Barbie doll named “Midge” whose package included a pregnant lift off belly held on with a hidden magnet. A baby was inside. My granddaughter helped me play with it and just as imagined, the baby was placed as a breech, thus justifying the lift off belly or cesarean section. The other plastic items that came with “Midge” and her “Midglet” as we named the baby, were a baby monitor, pacifier, crib (also changing table depending on which side you constructed it), baby bottle, and rubber ducky (to hold the baby powder). For the record, I used none of the above items when caring for my six babies. Needless to say, Wynn and I had a lot of fun deconstructing “Midge” and her manufactured, molded set-up for abdominal surgery and the pediatric post-op trauma of raising a baby with tools of soul destruction.

Wynn understood immediately – Midge doesn’t need the doctor “Barbie”, or the other plastic substitutes for a real nurturing mother. Wynn thought the plastic toys funny and marveled that Midge’s belly didn’t have a scar after you lifted off the pregnant piece to deliver the baby. There is nothing like a grandchild to make one feel as if all is right with the world, indeed the future of our planet.

Today, when I hung the laundry on our own clothesline, it felt like reverent prayer flags signaling that this is a home of peace. We began the task of clearing the "weeds" away from the backyard. Looks to be no more snow, or so we hope. Hail and windstorms however have kept us mostly inside even past the Vernal Equinox. Talk about Spring Fever – after burning wood and junk mail all winter long, the phoenix was ready to rise!

And so we soared into the backyard, now enclosed by the straw bale and adobe wall we completed (as a family project) despite red tags and local drama. Quinn (18 years old) is an eager gardener, as is Wynn (8 years old) – three Gemini’s in the garden discovered what flora and fauna had returned from the depths of winter. My granddaughter noticed the butterflies and fairies, my son greeted new plants, asking to be introduced, and I was the luckiest of mothers to ground my family on free soil. Even my feet were grinning.

Hey -- there's that raspberry I planted last fall. Volunteer lettuce already growing strong and oh! The native grasses we planted have taken hold, here and there. The mums were doing great and so were the tulips, irises, bluebells, wild mustards, rosemary, yarrow, lavender, mint, thyme, comfrey, motherwort, poppies, petunias, parsley, lilacs, honeysuckle, dianthus, coriander, and oregano. The strawberries were back and the little violas thanked me for giving them sunlight after the old chrysanthemum and aster stalks were cleared away.

I was in heaven: The hymn is GRATITUDE with all nature the choir. This is my church, the Earth. Breath as sacrament, each thought my prayer. Spring is the season to celebrate light's return and how happy all life is to feel the warmth of spirit again.

For Easter this year, we had a sweat lodge and gratitude was the theme in Monroe Canyon. It was a traditional Lakota sweat, blessed with the presence of a full blood who could sing the prayers in the native language. Many of our dearest friends attended with our family – Rico, Quinn, Halley, Wynn, Loi, and I – not only our family soul was resurrected, but we fell onto the Mother’s pic1 Lap of Grace as one community. Now we are so much more effective working together to bring peace here right now and wherever we go. THANK YOU GREAT SPIRIT for ALL THAT IS.

Look deep, deep into nature, and then you will understand everything better.

- Albert Einstein


Yesterday Halley announces that she is giving up one sense a day for awhile so that she might cultivate more gratitude. The first day, it was speaking and she kept silence (mauna).

Writing notes only when necessary to communicate was instructive.
The 2nd she planned to blindfold herself.
The 3rd day, she would wear earplugs -- no sound.
Halley wanted to experience life without a precious sense, one by one.

When I shared this with my neighbor, she asked me, “How old is Halley?” Seems she was shocked that someone so young, would be so inventive. Being sixteen is stereotyped as a time when such deep self-discovery largely comes through competition (E.g. sports vis-à-vis accidents) and dating (the crushes and other blows to the ego). But for a youngster to purposefully deprive themselves in order to deepen an appreciation for wholeness is a new idea.

For many teenagers, there is too much distraction from the inner experience. If attending school, there is the push toward achievement and the social realities that can be more of a focus than academics. Careers must be prepared for and many teens also already work to contribute to their families livelihood.

The teen years are for learning how to serve and make moves toward interdependence, rather than dependence on their parents. Yet without ample time to be still, and look within, is it no wonder that so many young adults feel lost – adrift far from the shores of their own soul?

The anchor for teens may come in many forms. For Halley, it’s yoga. When invited to partake during a party of unhealthy substances, she declined easily. Her friends tried to persuade her, even declaring that peer pressure works. However Halley said that she does yoga, and the Tree pose is one she does well. She went on to explain that when doing the Tree pose, others around you may sway or even fall over. However with focus on one point, Halley discovered that she could stay balanced amidst her falling peers.

In early May, Jeannine and Halley teach yoga at the Yoga Sadhana Academy (See Event/Tour Schedule) in Indianapolis, IN. Later at the end of June, they fly to British Columbia, Canada, to teach yoga again. In the middle of these two events, they may teach yoga at the beginning of Laura Shanley’s Sensual Dance Class during the California Association of Midwives Conference in Santa Rosa May 31st. (See EVENT/TOUR Schedule)

The night before the CAM Conference begins there is a BENEFIT that we hope you will attend in

Rohnert Park, CA.

The Nature of Birth

How Birth Shapes Our Earth

Thursday, May 29, 7-10:30pm

The Cooperage @ Sonoma State

An evening of passionate exploration into the connections between our birth experiences and our social,

environmental, and economic policies.

Doors open at 6:30 pm. Booths and food by local artisans and organizations.

Featuring renowned authors Suzanne Arms, Rahima Baldwin and Jeannine Parvati Baker

Musical performance by Copper Wimmin

Special guest Marilyn Milos from NOCIRC

Proceeds to benefit the Sutter Family Practice Doula Program and The Childbirth Awareness Project

Students and seniors with ID $10 in advance, $12 at the door

General admission $15 in advance, $18 at the door

Tickets available at Copperfield's Books

or by calling (707) 519-0797

Love like your life depends on it... 'cause it does.
-Michael Franti

"I think that people want peace so much, that one of these days, governments better get out of their way and let them have it."
- President Dwight D. Eisenhower

Julia Steils

Full Circle Massage and Doula Services

julia@fullcirclehealing.org


Here is what Quinn just wrote, printed in the wonderful zine, The Commie Mommie, edited by Hygieia student Kim Upton of KY.

Quinn A. Baker lives in Joseph and Moab, Utah. He is a homeschooled teen in a family of six

and needless to say, his parents, Jeannine Parvati and Rick Baker are quite proud of their son.

What is Freedom?

© Quinn A. Baker

Gandhi, Martin Luther King, Jesus Christ -- what these and many other inspiring people in history knew, is that war for any reason not only kills millions but also does not bring an end to terror. We can't hide behind "justice". We can't just say, "Hey you give up your weapons" and not give up our own. We may think that after a war everything will be business as usual, but the truth is that the rest of the world will forever remember the way the US government turned the September 11th attack into a reason to kill more people. No one deserves to die -- not Americans and not Iraqis. As for the brave men and women going to fight for us -- yes, they are doing what they think is right -- but think about it. What is freedom? Is it stealing? Is it murder? Is it lying? I think freedom is the pursuit of happiness, liberty, and most of all the right to live. In closing, I wish all who read this to look at what you feel is in life's best interest.

Hope You Had A

Happy Passover 2003,

As the Angel of Destruction

passes over our homes, let

us anoint the doorways with

the blood that naturally flows

from women. Let us cease

smearing our entrances with

the blood of our sons, lovers,

fathers, and all our relations --

slaughtered for the old age idea

of an evil "out-there".

The "male issues" we inherit can

be healed in a heartbeat.

It is simple -- if we are being

 

 

chased, stop running. If we are

being abused, stop being a target.

This is achieved when I stop

chasing and abusing others --

more importantly, when I stop

chasing after and abusing myself.

I am the mother of sons.

They are the most gentle men,

alongside their father, that I know.

Here is another column that Quinn wrote to be printed in the wonderful magazine The Commie Mommie | 476 Whitledge Lane | Sheperdsville KY 40165

What is Freedom 2

The Roots of War

© Quinn A. Baker

What is it about war that is so appealing? I can’t tell you what you think -- all I can do is give my unique perspective. What I trace it back to inside my own being is, fear – fear. When I am afraid it’s like nothing else matters because it’s only in that state can I ever justify sacrificing others or myself.

I have learned in these last eighteen years just by having a whole, healthy birth, and childhood, with two very supportive parents, so I could never in any other state than fear do anything aggressive against anyone even myself.

How you may wonder a male, eighteen years old, would chose to do no harm and let life be all the time?

I’ll tell you -- my parents respected the fact that I am a conscious being. They knew life is not to be owned, censored, or hurt.

So you’re disturbed by something unthinkable, then your first response is to vocalize your feelings. Now three things could happen. Your mommy or daddy might make you stop crying and you don’t get to feel your feelings fully. But let’s say you’re left alone to cry and after you’re done you don’t say anything. Usually kids will not say anything until someone asks. If you let it go into your unconscious, it will affect you without you being aware you felt this way. The last is when anyone says the three greatest words to a dialog: What’s the matter?

You talk about what you’re feeling and if they are willing to sit and listen to you for a few minutes, you’re left with a feeling of being understood and safe. Fear is very powerful. It can fuel hate, misconceptions, jealousy, and lead to rage, aggression, and vengeance. So I think the only thing to do is as my Mother says, “Heal the earth by healing birth”. In other words look after the young, give them your attention, patience, and above all, your love and acceptance.

 

From a correspondent in the 'bible belt':

"You know the world is going crazy when the best rapper is a white guy, the best golfer is a black guy, The Swiss hold the America's Cup, France is accusing the US of arrogance, and Germany doesn't want to go to war."

I had just quoted this same "thought" to my teens (as they had seen the film 8 Mile recently). Didn't know that it was originally from a "Bible Belt" writer, though. If s/he lives in the Bible Belt, then I must live in the Bible Under Garment District -- for here is the shadow side of Christianism being displayed with "Kill the enemy" (contrary to Jesus' advice) and the big rallies for deployment, support and now the return of soldiers: All the flag waving here is like airing Fear’s dirty linen in public. Nevertheless I keep washing our laundry and hanging out prayer flags for peace in the sun.

"I don't feel we did wrong in taking this great country away from them. There were great numbers of people who needed new land, and the Indians were selfishly trying to keep it for themselves."
--John Wayne

I have been rattling the local community with my pro-peace, loving letters to the editor. Around here, John Wayne videos rent more often than any other. Opened up a can of worms in this little Republican, patriotic community and in the words of one WW2 veteran who wrote to the Richfield Reaper in response to my letters, "I'm one of those worms comin' right at you!" Anyway, seems that I started quite young using the rattle for medicine whenever I got put in a box: See the photo below.

crib

One of the several boxes I am rattling is the one menopausal women are put in by our postmodern culture. Haggard, cranky, or outspoken at best, menopausal women have as many stereotypes as teenagers. Here is an example -- A common symptom of menopause is disturbed sleep or insomnia. Hygieia says, “The wound reveals the cure” and here that counsel is well applied.

When I awake during the night, I say, “OK Universe, bring it on!” I invite anything that is on my mind, like my own mind, to now come into awareness, especially those unresolved issues. Coming out of dreamtime through the hypnogogic level of consciousness, I am more open and less judgmental, just as I am when dreaming. When I ask for those hungry ghosts of my soul to come to the table, there is more of my whole self to feast upon, than when in dayworld consciousness, when my ego is censoring the data. Every night becomes an opportunity to be a bit more honest with myself and work through aspects of my accumulated life on a deep level.

Society, by and large, advises us to take a sleeping pill when having trouble staying asleep. This is like when young women are having “menstrual problems” and advised to take a pill, or The Pill. Yet if I do, I would miss the opportunity for soul-making. Yes, this is an opportunity – not a problem -- as it is only a heartbeat away from profound healing once the angle of my mind sees beyond the box.

When I was co-sleeping with my babies, I imagined that future time when I could sleep through the night. How delicious it would be to have eight hours of unbroken sleep! I savored the fantasy many a newborn night. However, I nursed (25 years) all six of my children and so by the time the family bed was emptied, I was peri-menopausal and awaking naturally during the night. That was when I began rattling the box thathad been placed on this common experience -- sleeping lightly, rather than a problem, is nature’s wayof bringing more self-awareness to the mid-point of life’s journey.

I have lived over 50 years and accumulated at least that much karma. During the long middle-aged nights, I not only review my past experiences, but also imagine the future. A way to see the possibilities more clearly is by releasing myself from old patterns of experiencing my life, what is yet to be even dreamed. These nighttime banquets with my inner hungry ghosts are potluck and when I awake, I am delightedly surprised at what I had chewed on -- what had come up for healing.

It was during one of these night excursions (with the help of the Universe into my soul), that it came to me how precious each of us is at this time. For the record, I have yet to meet an evil person, or judge those as evil who enact our group consciousness in the world in a violent way. One night I awoke with the words, “The war is inside of me”. I had understood that if I am against war, that I sustain it, at once. What we resist, persists. Now I instead focus on being peace. But the dream message stayed with me in the dark and I realized that war begins even before the warrior is born. Women and men have related to fertility as some enemy to be controlled at best, or annihilated at worst. This is one of the primal roots of war.

The apparent ground for this battle is the mother. I can no longer blame the fathers for the genetic habit of aggression when it’s manipulated into violence. Nor can I blame the mothers, the oldest trick in the (alleged) Good Book. Instead I can see how I, as a mother, have the opportunity to raise gentle men (and women as I have four daughters who may be the mothers of sons someday). This begins before conception, is sustained through a healthy and welcoming pregnancy, celebrated during natural birth and continues when I protect my children from the normative pediatric assaults of western medicine, such as circumcision.

Reclaiming the original Garden of our Creativity, we can Arise rather than continually Fall into an old expulsive tale of Good and Evil and the serial drama of Abraham and Sarah and Hagar. (And Sadam, Bin Ladin and Waldo -- As in, Where is Waldo?) Perhaps if more babies are consciously conceived, freeborn, intact, and fed from the hearts of their own mothers, there would be less violent re-enacting of the old righteous stories? Most of the non-Muslim and Jewish world does not circumcise, except the USA (South Korea, Canada, and Australia to much lesser degrees). The imprint of cutting a boy’s organ of creation, the generator of genealogy, is linked to battling for ones homeland security -- the holy ground of origin, from this grandmother’s point of view.

Knowing that it is the mainstream grandmothers and mothers, sisters and lovers of warriors who support our troops, (for they know not what they do), my heart fills with compassion. My commitment to Hygieia College and speaking wherever I can, in the hopes that all my sisters will know how precious life is, is strengthened all the more. This includes all life – inclusive of the preborn, the babies of Iraq, Afghanistan, or Syria or wherever we displace our fear and greed. Allen Cohen said that if all men could see their babies being born, there would be no war. I would add that if mothers gave birth in freedom, un-drugged and with her lover between her legs, there would be no more warriors.

Cinco de Mayo 2003

 

The Last Moment

The Muslim mother from Jordan cannot eat
She has lost her apetite, grown thin
Concerned about a war too close
To home, her children are afraid
They hunger simply for peace

A dred-locked young Christian
Flies to Iraq to join ambassadors
The Coalition for Peace gathers
Martyrs, pacifists and idealists willing
To die with America's conscience

The lights glow in the window
A Vigil for Peace, a firefly in the
Wild darkness of Bush country
Where John Wayne movies still
are "first run" on Utah TV

Today I keep the radio off
In silence, sign no more petitions
Not even the one declaring
The need for a U.S. Dept. of Peace
I cover the mirrors instead

Never have I felt more shame
To see the bare face of America
Techni-colored greed and so righteous
Seeing, hearing and speaking Evil
Global bully of the World Soul

I can't remember the first time
I was embarrassed to be an American
Yet now I know that today is the last
Moment I let fear claim my country
Land of the free, home of the brave

Here there is love, the courage to be,
Beyond primetime patriotism, if it means
Bombs, battles, and being beligerant boss
To a world that wants what we
Once had -- the freedom to just be

18 March 03
Blessed Be & Blessed Do,
Jeannine Parvati Baker



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