A Time for Thanksgiving While there are no Sabbats to celebrate this month, we do have the American Thanksgiving.  So, I’ve decided that for this month I’d give you a few great recipes for some healthy eating!  Whether you’re American or not I hope you find them interesting and are willing to give them a try! Homemade Pumpkin Butter Homemade pumpkin butter is extremely easy to whip up on your stove.  It is also extremely easy to put to good use.:)Spread it on toast and waffles, or package it up for a gift from your kitchen. Some people even mix it with yogurt or cottage cheese for a nutritious snack.…

WOLF SONG ~ Gift of Communion ~   “I live to hold communion with all that is Divine, to feel there is a union ‘twixt Nature’s heart and mine.” ~ George Linnaeus Banks, Poet and Playwright (1821-1881)   Through the valley of the mountain, and deep within its hidden hollow caves, the hypnotic echo of a lone Wolf Song can be heard in the distant land. Wolves howl to locate eachother, to assemble the pack, to sound alert, and to communicate across great distances, which can be heard for up to a 50 square-mile radius. As highly intelligent and social animals, wolves are naturally eloquent and easily adapt to a group…

Are you cyclically confused? In a ceremonial quandary? Completely clueless? Wonder no more.                                   *Ask Your Mama™                          Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Spirituality and Didn’t Know Who to Ask™   by ©Mama Donna Henes, Urban Shaman     A Question of Occupation   Dear Mama Donna,   I can’t turn on the TV anymore, because I get so upset listening to the news and the manipulative commercials. Is the world going to explode or implode or just shrivel up and die? It is so depressing out there. What can I do to feel better?   So Upset in Chicago   Dear One,   You are not…

IN ALL THINGS I DWELL When the Culdees sat by the standing stone, where the sidhe was the chosen home, at the top of a rugged mountain peak, deep in the valley where insects speak, a man travelled into a future time recreating himself in a poets’ rhyme. It was long ago, when the world was new, with fewer choices of what to do, this man sat gazing in his chair, he wasn’t here, he wasn’t there, he’d gone to the place of in between where imaginary thoughts can be seen. he sat for hours. Until he thought to lie down flat, take himself from where he sat, to a…