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Took a trip to the Fullerton Arboretum with a friend in June, and a lot was in bloom! I was a happy girl! This is Passiflora incarnata, or more commonly, purple passionflower. It really looks like a flower from another planet! I love it! :)

I got lucky and managed to get a bee collecting pollen, too. Yay!

20150606_140538-1a-signed

This is a full shot, uncropped. Both photos are untouched, and taken with my Samsung Galaxy S5.

20150606_140556-signed

See more photos from this challenge here.

Aphrodite:

Found this fantastic post and blog through another wonderful blogger I follow…Yogaleigh over at Not Just Sassy on the Inside. Thanks both!

Originally posted on Sophia's Children:

Mary Magdalene, by Leonardo DaVinci. Public domain image. Mary Magdalene, by Leonardo DaVinci. Public domain image.

July 22 is the historical feast day of St. Mary of Magdala, so it’s very fitting to share this updated post from the early days of Sophia’s Children.

Not that we need confine such celebrations and honorings to one day. After all, Wisdom is timeless, yes?

Who was Mary Magdalene, really?

And why is this question important at all given that we’re talking about a woman who lived 2,000 years ago, and about whom we have only slender references?

For quite a few years now, Mary Magdalene has been re-emerging strongly (along with Lilith and other feisty Divine Feminine exiles), and that’s usually a clue to pay attention to what’s arising since Life restores bits of Wisdom when the timing is vital to Life.

Such questions seem to arise in force when the answer is important to the times, it seems.

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freeway-sunset-edge2-mark

An overpass to nowhere.
How fittingly perfect.

This photo challenge asked us to use the colors of the rainbow (ROYGBIV). I used a filter from Pixlr software (freeware).

let it open…

Aphrodite:

So true…

Originally posted on Known is a drop, Unknown is an Ocean:

let it open...

Never tell a closed heart it must be more open; it will shut more tightly to protect itself, feeling your resistance. A heart unfurls only when conditions are right; your demand for openness invites closure. This is the supreme intelligence of the heart.

~ Jeff Foster

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Why did she abandon you?

Was it because she didn’t love you?
Does she even know what love is?

Was it an act of nature?
Did even the gods conspire against you?

Was it a cruel trick of fate…
which neither men nor gods can understand?

Why was it that you were ordained to die a slow death,
wishing for it to come quickly?

Or did you? Maybe you just existed,
and none of this even happened to you.

Maybe it only happened to me,
because I was your witness…

who gave you release, 
along with a piece of my self, too.

~A.

I wrote this after I had discovered that a mama hummingbird had abandoned her chicks. Chicks that I watched her sit on and hatch. Chicks that I watched her keep warm and feed.

Then one day it occurred to me that I had not seen her flying in and around the nest lately. I went to look in on the chicks. One of them was dead. The older, stronger of the two was still alive, barely. The poor thing was nearly dead. My heart wrenched. What happened? Why did she abandon them?

It troubled me. I had to revisit my own judgments and resentments about my own mother, who…although she was physically present, had abandoned us children emotionally. She went through the motions of doing the things a mother does, like feeding us, bathing us, making sure we had clothes and did our homework. But she was an empty shell.

Granted, this is not as bad as some have had it, and not as good as others have had it. All issues are personal and cannot be compared. I suppose not having a “real” mother is why I gravitated to the Divine Mother in her many manifestations. I need to have the hope that there is love and acceptance for me, not matter what I do. That there is a Mother there with open and loving arms, always and eternally.

Anyway, back to the baby birds. I had to do what I thought was the most humane thing I could do. I had to end the life of the last chick. It was difficult and I cried, but I felt some relief that it was not suffering any longer.

I don’t blame my own mother for anything anymore. We experience things and learn. We grow. And hopefully, we become better than we were because of it.

I found this prayer and really like it as a simple way of affirming my dedication to the Divine Mother’s cause, that she may use me in her plan in whatever way appropriate.

Holy Mother

Holy Mother by Matylda Biedron

 My Queen, My Mother,
I offer myself entirely to thee.
And to show my devotion to thee,
I offer thee this day,
my eyes, my ears, my mouth,
my heart,
my whole being without reserve.
Wherefore, good Mother,
as I am thine own,
keep me, guard me
as thy property and possession.
Amen.

Shoes1

What can I say? I have a thing for starfish, sparkly shiny things, magical things, pretty things. I’m pretty much a Libra that way.

Like these shoes for instance! I think there are even snowflakes on these shoes…but snowflakes are magical, right? No two alike…and that is truly magical.

However, I’ll choose to see some starfish here. It fits perfectly with my archetype of the Venusian love goddess, Aphrodite. This would be fantastic paired with a dress in aqua, teal, and shades of blue… :)

Thanks for visiting! A.

*

some times I miss

being the shore

constantly smoothed

by the froth caressed

by the whispering

waves to find myself

in the soft morning light

cleaned up reordered

from all the creases

of worrisome days

via Being from The California Notebooks 2015 | annamosca.

Aphrodite:

This post talks about the concept of “choosing” love, something that has, until recently, eluded me for a long time. It’s easy to focus on all the things we think our partner lacks, or needs to improve on…but what if we remember all the myriad reasons that we were attracted to them in the first place? I hope I can do that…each and everyday. I hope my partner will, too. :)

Originally posted on Consciousness Around the Kitchen Table:

By Bryan Reeves

image

I spent 5 years hurting a good
woman because I never fully chose her.

I did want to be with this one. I really wanted to choose her. She was an exquisite woman, brilliant and funny and sexy and sensual. She could make my whole body laugh with her quick, dark wit and short-circuit my brain with her exotic beauty. Waking up every morning with her snuggled in my arms was my happy place. I loved her wildly.

Unfortunately, as happens with many young couples, our ignorance of how to do love well quickly created stressful challenges in our relationship. Before long, once my early morning blissful reverie gave way to the strained, immature ways of our everyday life together, I would often wonder if there was another woman out there who was easier to love, and who could love me better.

As the months passed and…

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Mary1

Madonna of Ptaskowa, by Jerzy Harasymowicz

I’ve noticed something about my connection with Divine Mother, Mother Mary (as she presents to me), that had me puzzled for a while.

Often times, in connecting with her during meditations, and just in reflection and prayer (which to me is just being in conversation with), I would be overwhelmed with such emotion that tears would just start flowing. It’s not that I could really associate it with anything, like being sad, happy, or other.

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