Sophia Bonnie Wodin

This thread This web with it we become community A wholeness Together we weave around and through When any one thread is plucked each of us vibrates each of us responds each in the fullness of the moment the fullness of trust the fullness of possibility A web can be a safety net a home an adventure Adventure that sends us out questing Adventure that calls us home Changed - or not New most certainly For any journey every journey changes us makes us new leans us towards whole towards home  Again and again we venture out We might imagine we travel alone fly solo Then we pause….. Look around Recognize alone or not we remain connected Connected within the web we create together Pluck a thread, my friend It vibrates  far and  It vibrates wide The ripples it offers invites each other thread within the web to respond Thus a song rises up Filling each heart  stiring courage offering community within the Cauldron of My...

  An Honour and a Delight!   Also Gratitude! It has been nearly a year since I wrote in these pages. And what a year it has been! We supported the birth of a new granddaughter who joined her older brother, completing their branch of the family. We had our first real pawpaw harvest from our mini Food Forest here in SW Ontario. Did you know that pawpaw ice cream is to die for? That was a first! We also had a bumper crop of hazelnuts that we harvested before the squirrels got them. And I gotta tell you, shelling those delicious but slippery little nuts is quite the chore. Perhaps we’re growing them for the squirrels after all. But high on my list of exciting things that happened during this year is that Priestessing Your Life, the 13 month training that I developed when I came to live in Ontario nearly 15 years ago, has risen from the ashes of the Covid years. I feel delighted. At the beginning of December I had the honour of being interviewed for a new Reclaiming podcast,...

She senses a stirring deep within the Earth that rouses her and calls her name, “Brid….. Brid!” She roams frozen meadows, over hills; through fields lying dormant; traverses streams barely trickling amidst patches of ice.  She spies a clump of snowdrops sending up their tiny shoots at the edge of the forest. Eventually She encounters the Old One, The Calliach, weary from Her labours of winter, Her tending to the mountains and dales, the boulders and very stones beneath our feet: weary from long nights of stories around the never-ending fires. The Calliach looks up, “The time has come. You have arrived!” “Yes Grandmother, I have come once again, as I must. The Earth calls, the year turns, I have come to tend the springs and wells, the fires of the forge, the lifting up of hearts and minds towards the spring that comes!” “You have come in good time, beloved one!” “Yes, Grandmother. It is time. Go to your rest. Your labours of winter are complete. The time has come to welcom...

This teaching was back in the 1990’s. I lived in Western Massachusetts, worked landscaping and was up to my eyeballs in magical training.   A friend had connected with a curriculum put together by an earth-entered tradition somewhere in the mid-western US. Several of us formed a Goddess study group and gathered in her loft on a regular basis to work our way through the lessons. We had little sense of where this might lead. The adage, “Where angels fear to tread…” comes to mind. At the time this anecdote recounts, my day job was at the home of an elderly couple. They had recently taken down a mature maple in front of their house that had been hit by lightening. My task was to turn the debris into a flower garden that would grace the top of their driveway: a 60th anniversary gift from husband to wife. It was a small-ish job so my crew worked on other job sites while the husband worked alongside of me.   On this particular day I had recently met with the Goddess study group. ...

I was packing to leave my daughter’s home.   We had arrived the evening before having dodged two blizzards.  It’s a drive of about 10 - 12 hours. But soon after we arrived one of us felt ill. And then tested positive for COVID.  (FYI: We had blessedly mild cases.) As I re-packed, hoping to leave before we infected the household, a thought appeared: “This is what love looks like today…” Since then I have been looking at my life and actions from the point of view of: What does love look like now? Picture this….. It’s the holiday season. Your preparations are complete. The larder is filled to overflowing (who knew a fridge could hold so much?). Friends and relatives come and go. Like the tides.  Now.  Drop a snowstorm into the scene. Everyone’s plans have gone poof! Dissolved as Naomi Shahib Nye said, “like salt in a weakened broth…” But not ours. We had planned to stay home. A beloved arrived by train and Uber, the only methods of transportatio...