possibly a chant by Maria Sabina?

Mazatec Chant

Says.. woman who thunders am I,
woman who sounds am I.
Spiderwoman am I, says
hummingbird woman am I says
Eagle woman am I, says
important eagle woman am I.
Whirling woman of the whirlwind am I, says
woman of a sacred, enchanted place am I, says
Woman of the shooting stars am I. …

I’m a birth woman, says
I’m a victorious woman, says
I’m a law woman, says
I’m a thought woman, says
I’m a life woman, says …

I am a spirit woman, says
I am a crying woman, says
I am Jesus Christ, says …
I’m the heart of the virgin Mary.

-Mushroom Ceremony – Smithsonian Institute

I copied this exactly from an ironically anti-drug website, “Use Your Voice.” When I searched the Internet for Maria Sabina chants, I retrieved this. When I searched for their credit “Mushroom Ceremony Smithsonian Institute,” I didn’t get this chant, but it does seem in the style of Maria Sabina.

Advertisements

because everything has its origin*

Because I can swim in the immense
Because I can swim in all forms
Because I am the launch woman
Because I am the sacred opposum
Because I am the Lord opposum

I am the woman Book that is beneath the water, says
I am the woman of the populous town, says
I am the shepherdess who is beneath the water, says
I am the woman who shepherds the immense, says
I am a shepherdess and I come with my shepherd, says

Because everything has its origin
And I come going from place to place from the origin…

-Maria Sabina, ca. 1894 – 1985

*Chant admittedly stolen straight from Wikipedia, but I wanted to share it.

they say it’s like dew

I’m a saint woman
I’m a saint woman
I’m a spirit woman
I’m an atmosphere woman
I’m a day woman

I’m a waiting woman
I’m a crying woman
I’m a speech woman
I’m a creator woman

I’m a doctor woman
I’m a wise in the way of the plants woman
I’m a creator woman

I’m a clean woman
I’m a ready woman
I’m a Saint Peter woman
I’m a clean woman
I’m a ready woman

I’m a waiting woman
I’m an atmosphere woman
I’m a day woman
I’m a creator woman
I’m a doctor woman

I’m an interpreter woman
I’m a Christ woman

I’m the morning star woman
I’m the moon woman

I’m a heaven woman
I’m a doll woman

That’s the way it looks when I go to heaven…
They say it’s like softness there
They say it’s like land
They say it’s like day
They sat it’s like dew

My dear friend Jackie Rock shared this chant with me when I needed it desperately. It was written by Maria Sabina as a Mazatec Magic Mushroom Ritual Chant in approximately 1896. Maria Sabina lived as a Shaman in Southern Mexico who used psilocybe mushrooms for what we might understand as her visits to a different spiritual level. I hope to post more of her chants as I find them, as she’s now my spiritual comfort guide.

So I’m Helpful for a little While

there was a bit of a smackdown over who was going to handle a fundraiser: me, or an accountant acquaintance.

the deal is, a friend of ours got breast cancer, and having a double mastectomy didn’t get it all. she made the saddest thing ever: Jen’s Chemo Wishlist, and Jen’s Chemo Wishlist for Fun on Amazon. the first is obvs the serious one, the perversely described “Chemo for Fun” had things like baking accessories for her Kitchenaid mixer, books, a CD.

Cy, a friend of all ours, organized a group of people who could be in touch and help her out by making donations and have the donation coordinator buy things off her lists. after all the money was in, a donation to her to help cover expenses with what was left would be made to her.

so the smackdown, as it were, to help Jen was whose PayPal account would we use to centralize all this and whose Amazon account had Prime shipping to get it all to her cheaply? i had both so had been offering from the beginning, saying that unemployment gave me time. the accountant popped up and argued “hellooooo i’m an accountant!”

in this Save Jen group, my name popped up first, so instantly money came pouring in. the accountant seemed disappointed. you know, i’m just gonna say it, this accountant loves being the center of attention. i took a jab at her. after i ‘won’ the ‘competition’ (snort), i asked her, “have you talked to Jen lately, is there anything else she wants?” accountant admitted she doesn’t really talk to Jen, so no, she didn’t know. neener, i knew things she wanted but forgot to put on the list! so, yeah, i think i ‘won.’

but after getting that petty poison out, the point is this: i feel useful. unemployment is a literally disenfranchising thing, and it’s left me feeling sort of anchorless. sure i have tons of things to do for my medical health–the whole point of quitting my job–but it’s not like i’m doing anything that serves a direct purpose i’m accountable to someone else for.

Jen’s Chemo Wish has given me determination. i am actually doing something that improves the life of someone else. i’m so happy to check my email and my PayPal and my Amazon to see what’s going on. so far we’ve gotten enough donations to fill all her Amazon dreams and more. we’re going to help her with her yoga studio fees.

i really hope Jen is the last of my friends to get cancer for a long, long time, and i really hope the chemo knocks her cancer out, but, in the meantime, i’m so glad i have a purpose. thanks for letting me be your friend, Jen.

Crying Wolf

in college, i was in love with a woman named Stacia Wolf. she not only had the most perfect name ever, she brought a distinction to our group of friends as being the most brilliant of the females amongst us giggling dahlias.

my favorite moments with Stacia were when she slipped away from maturity land, leaving her fiancé and future step-daughter behind for a night alone with me getting blind drunk. in retrospect, from womanhood, i wish we had gotten tipsy in my dorm room and had the deep sort of girl-talk we did in my drunken torpor, but with the gravitas of the edge of sobriety making those nights more memorable to her. but i presume she hung out with me because she knew i was the party girl of our group and would not just get her trashed on cheap liquor but lead her to the best parties within walking distance. (never drive drunk kids, NEVER drive drunk.)
as we drank, she confessed to me her secret fears of marrying her controlling fiance direct from college and instantly acquiring a seven-year-old daughter and hostile baby mama cum ex-wife. in those sloppy moments, i begged her not to marry. did i tell her i loved her yet? i know i did later, but in the moments of seriousness, i begged her, pointing out she just told me she was semi-afraid of the over-bearing demeanor the future husband already displayed, feared baby mama, and could she be a 20-year-old mother to a seven-year-old child resistant to her because of her confusion about the divorce? these were weighty things for any woman to ponder, let alone a newly graduated genius deserving grad school coffee huse chats and not midnight wet beds.
i burned for Stacia, stared at her as best i could through pure-grain and koolaid eyes. i remember we played checkers one night before walking to a party, and i didn’t even try the game i wanted her to win so badly. i listlessly pushed around my black tablets, leaning on a crooked elbow arm, drinking her sweet water cane liquor face. we actually cried over checkers as she poured out her distilled heart concerning her grave graduation gift. could she do it? Stacia, come to grad school with me! please! you can help me with my papers, tone them to your brilliance, and i’d guide you to self-discovery free of the man who wanted to gobble your life.¬†
she ditched me at the party, indicative of how she used me for imbibed tears and moved on. always the same pattern. drink, debate, ditch.
Stacia, my sweet Stacia, what happened to you? i still love you.