Talking with our dearly departed dead
Talking with our dearly departed dead
Yesterday I spoke with my friend Sally who has passed over. I often feel her presence near and when I saw my psychic a few weeks ago he noticed there was a new spirit with me, a woman whose name began with S. He said to me "she is one of us, her hair is big again, she is barefoot and dancing" and I burst into tears.
When she was living we only met in person once. The most beautiful, happy, fairy-like woman, an absolute ray of sunshine. She met Autumn-Violet in the womb. We stayed in touch and her messages would always reach my heart effortlessly. When I found out she had passed over I sobbed and sobbed and felt myself consumed by this huge grief.
Since then I have carried on talking to her, relationships never really end with passing, and yesterday a mama who I am currently on call for sent me a message that she suddenly wanted to make a Christmas cake, but she didn't even like it!
My relationship with this mother is very special to me, to watch her go through her pregnancy guided by the moon and the planets and her deep sense of what is right. I replied - have you ever heard of a groaning cake? Very similar to a Christmas cake.
It was traditionally made by a mother and her midwife when labour began. The smell was said to ease the sensations of labour. The cake would then be handed out in pieces at church.
It was a lightbulb moment. My client's deceased grandmother, who she had named her daughter after, was very holistic and naturally-minded. We both instantly knew that grandmother was close, was whispering her best advice in my client's ear as she prepared to birth her baby, as the birth portal was beginning to open.
Do you listen to the whispers of the dead?
Do you partake of their wisdom?
The Feminine Urge To Devour
I went to see the psychic man
Who told me to eat.
He said your body isn't strong enough
To carry the souls to earth
That are calling your name.
And he drew my hunger out of me
As I sat there like a pale shell
The hunger that says more, more, never enough
The devouring that stamps her feet for more love, more food, more pleasure.
That sends them away with their head low
Away from the cave of longing and endless depth.
The hunger I am scared to let loose
Incase I never stop.
Death and destruction and start again
Once a month.
Women can do that, you see,
We are used to tearing things down.
Turning the seeds of ideas into a river of blood.
It's rushing out of me through the dam they tried to build
Mother River
And She is Me.
- Jenny Wren
The Rosary
One of the most moving things I've ever seen was a grandma praying the rosary at a birth. In a way that I didn't yet understand, I knew I was in the presence of a sacred devotion.
I didn't have any idea that I would one day become a daily devotee of the rosary myself, that I would pray it silently at birth, beads slipping through my hands, weaving a web of love and protection.
My children know that after breakfast is done is mama's time for prayer. I sometimes pray in the evening too if I need to quiet my mind. Often a little person will stand behind me quietly waiting for a gap between the prayers, to ask a question, to ask for assistance. In this sense the rosary is a mother's spiritual practice - it is easily paused, set down, transported.
The rosary teaches us that joy, sorrow and glory go round in a circle, that we are held within this cycle always. It reminds us we are never alone. Marianne Williamson talks about God in her book "Return To Love", saying that when we are young we hate the idea of a higher power being in control, and as we mature we are relieved to find that it is so.
I will often send a quick prayer, a "Memorare", on request. I am in daily habit of handing things over and on dark days and light days the repetition and the habit are soothing to me.
I highly recommend the book "The Way Of The Rose" if you want to learn more about this ancient form of Goddess devotion.
May loving thoughts prevail always.
Love Jenny xxx
