<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8" standalone="no"?><rss xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:blogger="http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:itunes="http://www.itunes.com/dtds/podcast-1.0.dtd" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" version="2.0"><channel><atom:id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7079766831104373284</atom:id><lastBuildDate>Tue, 24 Mar 2026 07:56:59 +0000</lastBuildDate><category>birth</category><category>Biscuit Baby</category><category>First Lady</category><category>Ina May</category><category>Michelle Obama</category><category>White House</category><category>breastfeeding</category><category>divorce</category><category>doula</category><category>family</category><category>grateful</category><category>homebirth</category><category>keb mo'</category><category>kim durdin-james</category><category>lactation consultant</category><category>love</category><category>maternal mortality</category><category>midwife</category><category>motherfriendly</category><category>nanny</category><category>postpartum cardiomyopathy</category><category>safe motherhood quilt</category><category>thankful</category><title>The Crones' Kitchen™</title><description>"The Mother nurtures her young, or some brainchild or creative endeavor, while the Crone, in her wisdom, NURTURES SOCIETY."  from "The Circle of Life" by Elizabeth Davis and Carol Leonard</description><link>http://thecroneskitchen.blogspot.com/</link><managingEditor>noreply@blogger.com (Mama Kim)</managingEditor><generator>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>10</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><language>en-us</language><itunes:explicit>no</itunes:explicit><itunes:summary>"The Mother nurtures her young, or some brainchild or creative endeavor, while the Crone, in her wisdom, NURTURES SOCIETY." from "The Circle of Life" by Elizabeth Davis and Carol Leonard</itunes:summary><itunes:subtitle>"The Mother nurtures her young, or some brainchild or creative endeavor, while the Crone, in her wisdom, NURTURES SOCIETY." from "The Circle of Life" by Elizabeth Davis and Carol Leonard</itunes:subtitle><itunes:owner><itunes:email>noreply@blogger.com</itunes:email></itunes:owner><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7079766831104373284.post-7443001234746242479</guid><pubDate>Tue, 09 Dec 2008 16:31:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-12-09T08:36:01.781-08:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">First Lady</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Michelle Obama</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">White House</category><title>The First Ladies unpaid "Women's Work"</title><description>Please check out this fascinating article (to me anyway) about the role of the Chief Wife, Babymaker, Director of Internal Affairs, etc, etc of our country.  Do you think this needs to change?  How do you see our lives and roles as women, mothers, wives, etc, reflected or as compared to the First Lady's?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://news.yahoo.com/s/politico/20081209/pl_politico/16308"&gt;http://news.yahoo.com/s/politico/20081209/pl_politico/16308&lt;/a&gt;</description><link>http://thecroneskitchen.blogspot.com/2008/12/first-ladies-unpaid-womens-work.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mama Kim)</author><thr:total>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7079766831104373284.post-444158649669288671</guid><pubDate>Sun, 07 Dec 2008 20:25:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-12-07T12:32:10.342-08:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">family</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">nanny</category><title>Ode to Nanny</title><description>Doing “Sunday morning things” like getting up early, earlier than everyone else, and cleaning the kitchen or cooking a meal for the family or both, bring me such peace of mind and beauty.  I feel like my granny(we called her "nanny"), who would do those things when she came to visit, waking up at dawn and preparing the dough to rise for the dinner rolls she was making for Sunday dinner.  She’d make sugar cookies and raisin bread too.  And when I got up early with her, awakened by not feeling her presence in the room she shared with me when she came to visit, as much as her quiet singing and moving about in the kitchen that I heard., she’d show me how to coat the top of the cookies with white sugar, or cut out breakfast biscuits with a glass..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe its the apron too.  I find myself wearing an apron when i'm in the kitchen for long hauls, it just makes so much sense when you're really getting down and dirty in there.  However,  never saw myself as an "apron girl".  That was what older ladies like my grandmothers wore, and now, here I am, wearing the apron and caring for my family, like my grandmommas did.  Never really knowing until now, the power they quietly  (and sometimes not so quietly) held.  Not really knowing till now, the power of  that apron, the power of those hands that cooked and cleaned and prepared the meals, the power of their love shining through in all of those acts.</description><link>http://thecroneskitchen.blogspot.com/2008/12/ode-to-nanny.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mama Kim)</author><thr:total>3</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7079766831104373284.post-3599011040064966510</guid><pubDate>Sat, 08 Mar 2008 15:44:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-03-12T12:46:10.409-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">birth</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Ina May</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">maternal mortality</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">motherfriendly</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">postpartum cardiomyopathy</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">safe motherhood quilt</category><title>Is Motherhood Safe?</title><description>Several years ago, I took a couple of my women/mama friends down to the Shenandoah Mountains area of Virginia, to have the opportunity to hear legendary activist and spiritual midwife, Ina May &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Gaskin&lt;/span&gt; speak. (Check out &lt;a href="http://www.inamay.com/"&gt;http://www.inamay.com/&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.thefarm.org/midwives/index.html"&gt;http://www.thefarm.org/midwives/index.html&lt;/a&gt;.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I brought these particular women with me because all were pregnant and planning to give birth and all were hoping for a vaginal birth after only previously given birth by c-section. Ina May was just the person for them to meet for her inspirational wisdom and Knowing about birth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Ina May's time came to speak, we were seated in a small classroom at Shenandoah University. In this small, intimate setting we felt as if we were in her living room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ina May's talk was uplifting, enlightening and healing. Her impeccable research linearly pointed out what we all really Know deep within us; &lt;strong&gt;that normal, un-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;interfered&lt;/span&gt;-with birth is safest&lt;/strong&gt;. That what makes birth risky, is the &lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;unnecessary&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; use of interventions, for profit and/for convenience. Ina May is the perfect balance, to me, of book knowledge, deep intelligence, and eternal, intuitive wisdom and voice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the second part of her talk, Ina May brought to our attention the emerging yet still underground issue of &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;maternal mortality&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. Basically, that means a woman who has died sometime before, during or a period after childbirth. Do you ever hear anyone talking about this in our country? I never did. I always thought that BIRTH was safe here in the US, and that women died "back in the old days" or in other countries were there might be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;inadequate&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;health care&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, Mama May brought to our attention that &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;US women do die&lt;/strong&gt; in childbirth and that &lt;strong&gt;African American women&lt;/strong&gt; die at a rate of &lt;strong&gt;4x&lt;/strong&gt; that of white woman, and &lt;strong&gt;Latina women&lt;/strong&gt; die at the rate of &lt;strong&gt;2x&lt;/strong&gt; that of white women&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt; It's completely tragic when any women dies during this period, equally &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;unbelievable&lt;/span&gt; that there is a huge racial disparity. and of course the question is &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;"&lt;strong&gt;why?"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems that &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;the &lt;strong&gt;UK gives it citizens carefully detailed reports on incidences of maternal mortality numbers and reasons. This is an accountability measure that helps to determine what steps must be taken in order to improve maternal mortality rates&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; The definition of a maternal death &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;related&lt;/span&gt; to childbearing includes deaths that have &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;occurred&lt;/span&gt; up to a year after &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;childbirth&lt;/span&gt;, as some childbirth related &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;morbidity&lt;/span&gt; can exist and cause problems for the rest of a women's life. In contrast the US does not require that hospital or doctors gather statistics on maternal mortality, and regard a maternal death as something that only occurs up to six weeks after pregnancy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To that end, Ina May decided to create a quilt to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;commemorate&lt;/span&gt; any women that she hears about that has suffered from maternal mortality, (&lt;a href="http://www.rememberthemothers.net/"&gt;http://www.rememberthemothers.net/&lt;/a&gt;) to bring awareness to this alarming trend, and so that their lives would not be forgotten. Each square of the quilt is embroidered with the name of the mother who has perished, her birth and death date.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She brought the quilt to show us and talked about the stories of some of the women, the complications that came up that caused each one of them their lives. Many of these deaths, if not all were related to complications &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;occurring&lt;/span&gt; during interventions and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;interferences&lt;/span&gt; in the normal birth process, many of which birth advocates feel are extremely risky. It's no wonder we never hear of these stories, birth is a big business in this country, and the more interventions a doctor uses, the more the hospital profits. Although sometimes interventions are &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;necessary&lt;/span&gt;,&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;many times interventions are used &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;unnecessarily&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fast forward to about &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;a year later&lt;/span&gt;. I receive a call from my Aunt Elaine, and as I hear her voice, I am so &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;surprised&lt;/span&gt; and happy that I am gushing all over the phone. She calms me down in her sweet tone and lets me know that my Aunt Anne, whom I even more rarely speak too, is also on the line. Happy but a bit confused, I ask them "Why am I so blessed today to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;receive&lt;/span&gt; this call from both of you today?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sweet Aunties laugh nervously, and then my Auntie Elaine goes on to explain that Aunt Anne's youngest daughter and my childhood friend or "cousin", Leslie is dead. I'm in shock of course, Leslie was a wonderful women, young, recently married and had just given birth to a beautiful little girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leslie went to have her baby expecting a normal vaginal delivery. She ended up with a c-section. Days after returning home, she began having trouble breathing. Repeated calls to the doctor resulted in an over the phone diagnosis of the flu. More days pass and Leslie finally goes back to the hospital as her condition has worsened. Shortly after being admitted, she dies. Doctors are puzzled at first, but later come up with a diagnosis of &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Peripartum &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;Cardiomyopathy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.nlm.nih.gov/medlineplus/ency/article/000188.htm"&gt;(http://www.nlm.nih.gov/medlineplus/ency/article/000188.htm&lt;/a&gt; for more info) an uncommon and poorly researched complication of the postpartum period. My cousin had just become a statistic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her husband, her mom and her sister take over the care of Leslie's precious newborn even as they go through their own deep grieving process. It was oh so bittersweet to hear that Leslie was a breastfeeding mom. I thought of her baby girl, her family. I lived on, stunned with it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spirit led me to contact Ina May. With the permission of Leslie's family, I related Leslie's story to Ina May, who let me know that she would give her information to one of her quilting volunteers (read: angel) who would make a square commemorating Leslie's life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fast forward to October 2005. I now live in LA, and I attend a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;CAPPA&lt;/span&gt; conference with Ina May as one of the keynote speakers. I greet her after her excellent talk. As usual, the "Safe Motherhood Quilt" is with her, a visual disclosure of the women who've died and whose names, lives and deaths have existed, until the quilt, in secret. She knows who I am, and walks me over to where the quilt is laid, and points out a square. It's purple-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;ish&lt;/span&gt; blue, black and gold, an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;African&lt;/span&gt; print (perfect!) with Leslie's name, birth and death dates, embroidered over an , tear-drop design. It's beautiful. I know Leslie must have helped the artist pick out the fabric and colors because it truly looks like her. Again, I am grateful...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maternal morbidity and mortality are not pretty or fun subjects. Neither is infant mortality. They are heartbreaking, devastating and tragic facts of life. We cannot, however, stick our heads in the sand and think that we are safe from these things because we live in the US, or anywhere else. What angers me the most, is how corporate interests, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;health care&lt;/span&gt; as for-profit business, lack of access to quality &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;health care&lt;/span&gt;, lack of access to safe birth practices, lack of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;accountability&lt;/span&gt; and the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;suppression&lt;/span&gt; of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;women's&lt;/span&gt;' voice in life in general promote infant and maternal mortality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ina May has written an article in the March/April issue of Mothering Magazine on maternal mortality. I urge you to check it out. For more info on where to get Mothering go to &lt;a href="http://www.mothering.com/"&gt;http://www.mothering.com/&lt;/a&gt;. To see Leslie Ann Spencer's quilt square, go to &lt;a href="http://www.inamay.com/"&gt;http://www.inamay.com/&lt;/a&gt;, click on to The Safe Motherhood Quilt Project". After you enter that site, go to "Virtual Quilt" and look for Leslie's name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those of you who in serve in the birth field, or for those of you planning on having a baby, or know someone who is, check out &lt;a href="http://www.motherfriendly.org/"&gt;http://www.motherfriendly.org/&lt;/a&gt; for information on how to know if your doctor, midwife, center or hospital facility practices in way that promotes optimal outcomes for mother and baby. Also, Amnesty International is studying maternal mortality in this country. If you know of someone who died after giving birth or experienced a near-miss, please contact Rosa Cho at &lt;a title="mailto:rcho@aiusa.org" href="mailto:rcho@aiusa.org"&gt;rcho@aiusa.org&lt;/a&gt;, or by phone at 212-633-4161.</description><link>http://thecroneskitchen.blogspot.com/2008/03/is-motherhood-safe.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mama Kim)</author><thr:total>4</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7079766831104373284.post-2459690788626389003</guid><pubDate>Sun, 17 Feb 2008 17:07:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-02-17T09:43:58.501-08:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">divorce</category><title>Excuse me while I reinvent myself.</title><description>This is a special posting. It's kinda like when someone goes on Oprah to reveal a deep, dark secret, only it's in front of millions of people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I'm getting a divorce&lt;/span&gt;. Yeah, for real this time. I'm going to be a single mother of 5!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I was thinking about this &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;life change&lt;/span&gt;, I first thought that this is yet another trailblazing area in my life. Then, looking over my friends and families relationships over the past 22 years, I realize that I am certainly not the first one to go through this, and I won't be the last.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After 18 years of marriage, 22 years total of togetherness and all that history, pulling away has felt like ripping apart vines that have become entangled as they grew together. I admit that all the times in the past when I desired divorce, just the thought of the pain of the entangled vines ripping apart was enough to turn me around to try and "make it work".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'm stronger now, maybe it's my age. Maybe I'm in a better place with myself. All I know is that my life is worth living in joy, in happiness, in honesty, in fullfulment. Living my life in these principles honors my children more than staying in an unhappy marriage ever could.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am grateful for my friends and family who are already supporting me through this, without judgement. They remind me to continue to love deeply, and that I am deeply loved, to know that I waited to separate until I had a "safe" space to do it in. When I feel guilt, they remind me that it serves no purpose. When I tell them I'm scared because I don't have a roadmap, they gently tell me that there is no roadmap, but I will still &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;find my way&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for listening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mama Kim</description><link>http://thecroneskitchen.blogspot.com/2008/02/excuse-me-while-i-reinvent-myself.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mama Kim)</author><thr:total>8</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7079766831104373284.post-2830940239742733929</guid><pubDate>Fri, 18 Jan 2008 16:30:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-01-18T09:13:56.401-08:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">grateful</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">love</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">thankful</category><title>The Love Never Dies</title><description>Y'all who love me might have been wondering where I've been.  I haven't posted in a bit of a time, but nevertheless, I'm HERE!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is so exciting, so wonderful, and that still stands no matter what is going on around us, Yes?  I encourage all of you who read this to wake up each morning Knowing that, and go to bed each night, Knowing that.  Live your life each minute Knowing that and you will have found the secret to everlasting happiness and joy.  Better still, you'll be contagious and spread love around everyone you touch like warm massage oil on a tired, aching body.  Be that warm oil, massaged into the aching spirit bodies of others.  Be that comfort for every child, man and woman that you encounter...But first start by massaging yourself, your on spirit, everyday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which leads back to being thankful, grateful, for every, every moment and everything seemingly good or seemingly "bad".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feeling sad or blue?  Can't catch your rhythm?  It happens to me too, don't get me wrong, but I learned the secret!  Begin with gratitude and you will be healed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I turned on some great music today, Have you all ever heard of Pandora?  Its a great site where you can create your own radio station (&lt;a href="http://www.pandora.com/"&gt;www.pandora.com&lt;/a&gt;)  On my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Erykah&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Badu&lt;/span&gt; station, the played "Strength, Courage and Wisdom" by India.Arie.  I always cry when I hear that song, its so beautiful.  It's an anthem that we all could play everyday to "wake us up!"  I also cry because it was the song that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Rennea&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Goines&lt;/span&gt; played several years ago when her family and our family did an informal Kwanzaa celebration at her home.  It was just us and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Rennea&lt;/span&gt;, Doug (her husband) and her daughter &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Adamaa&lt;/span&gt;.  Hearing the song brings me right back to that moment in eternity where our families held hands together and including this song, which we all listened to together in our prayer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Rennea&lt;/span&gt; was a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;phenomenal&lt;/span&gt; teacher at our children's school in Virgina.  She was an high healer through the realm of education.  She turned many, many children on to education, children who were struggling, unsupported, lost, ignored or forgotten.  She demanded the best from these kids as well as the best from the "trust fund" kids she also taught.  She was the teacher that would go knock on the door of a child's home to find a child who hadn't been coming to class.  She walked in the valley in the shadow of death and feared no evil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Rennea&lt;/span&gt; taught my daughter in 6&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; grade and in 7&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; grade.  She loved Y. as here own.  I believe she saw a smaller version of herself in my child and they became very close. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometime during the middle of that year, health concerns that had been plaguing her brought her to a place where she could no longer ignore.  Cancer was found.  In one of the last conversations that she had with me, she said, "Kim , this is my test."  Several months later, she was gone.  Just like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be grateful for your life.  We will not be in this body for long.  I do believe, as I am taught at my spiritual home, Agape, and through my spiritual teachers that we are eternal, our spirits are forever...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Rennea&lt;/span&gt;, I feel you, I see you, I love you and I thank you, you touch me, I touch you....forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For all of you reading this, I send the same message to you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go with God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mama Kim</description><link>http://thecroneskitchen.blogspot.com/2008/01/love-never-dies.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mama Kim)</author><thr:total>5</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7079766831104373284.post-4703099407831198460</guid><pubDate>Wed, 05 Dec 2007 03:22:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-12-04T21:30:14.678-08:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Biscuit Baby</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">homebirth</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">midwife</category><title>Biscuit Boy</title><description>As most of you readers know, hubby and I have 5 beautiful kids, three girls and two boys. It lays out like this, 16 year old girl, 13 year old boy, 10 year old girl, 7 year old girl and 3 ½ year old boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My eldest son, (the 13 year old one), is the subject of my post today. S. has always been a wonderful child, not withstanding all of his “boy energy” that can sometimes be annoying and other times incredibly hilarious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember being pregnant with him. I knew he was a boy, by an intuitive mama sense, as well as by the powerful kicks he gave me while still in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;utero&lt;/span&gt;. I would tell his Granddaddy (hubby’s dad) that he has got to be a football player or something, because those kicks would literally take the breath out of me, they were that strong!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His birth was a powerful experience. I was blessed to have had him at home with a wonderful midwife, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Tioma&lt;/span&gt;. This was a big thing because #1; Most folks did not have their kids at home and #2; I had a c-section with my first child. So preparing for this &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;homebirth&lt;/span&gt; was a kind of back and forth of “should I or &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;shouldn&lt;/span&gt;’t I?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was about 7 months pregnant, my hubby’s college friends came to visit. The both happened to be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Drs&lt;/span&gt;, the husband a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Opthamologist&lt;/span&gt; and wife an OB/&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;GYN&lt;/span&gt;. When they asked me where I was giving birth, I happily exclaimed, Home! To this, our OB/&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;GYN&lt;/span&gt; friend reacted in horror! "That", she said, "is the most horrible thing that I have ever heard of!" Naive me, I thought she would be happy for me, and be encouraging. That's the time when I began to understand that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;OB's&lt;/span&gt; and Midwives practiced from two entirely different paradigms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, from that point on I was really scared s**&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;tless&lt;/span&gt; and called my midwife a few days later to call off the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;homebirth&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;"Why?", she asked. "I really want to work with you." I mumbled something until in her skillful ways, she drew out of me my &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;FEARS&lt;/span&gt;, one by one and laid them to rest. Of course, I am very thankful for that exercise, because if I had let the fear run me, I would have missed out on one of the most empowering, and amazing experiences of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not to say that I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;didn&lt;/span&gt;’t still worry a bit, about, what if this or that goes wrong, but at least I knew that I was in very capable hands and that there was a back-up plan in case of emergency.&lt;br /&gt;Fast forward to the first weekend in March, 1994. I had begun laboring on that Saturday and continued on and off for days. My mom had already driven to Brooklyn from Jersey for support. But as my early, on and off again contractions dragged on, I felt I would be pregnant forever, and I felt silly that I had asked my mom to come (like I was never going to have that baby! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Isn&lt;/span&gt;’t it funny how your mind plays tricks on you?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Every time&lt;/span&gt; I felt the slightest twinge, contraction or discomfort, my mom or hubby would ask, “Are you alright?" Or “Was that a contraction?" I loved their support but was sick of their questions. On the 9&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;, (that was a Wednesday) I decided to attend a La &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Leche&lt;/span&gt; League meeting to get my mind off of the coming and going sensations I was having. Silly me, since I had never had labor the natural way, I had no ides that I was actually doing great, and that my body was slowly opening and my cervix gently &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;softening&lt;/span&gt; with each wave. Although all the fun stuff had started on the Saturday prior, it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;wasn&lt;/span&gt;’t so bad that I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;couldn&lt;/span&gt;’t walk, talk or just relax and ride the rushes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the meeting, I stilled myself to listen to my inner voice. I could clearly hear that I should finish up any loose ends and the baby would come. So, I looked back over my to-do lists and got to work on completing every item. After coming home from the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;LLL&lt;/span&gt; meeting, my mom and I took the bus to McDonald’s, where I proceeded to eat like a damn pig. Then we walked back up Fulton St (about 8 blocks) with she and I taking turns on holding a then two ½ year old eldest child. It had started to snow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once home I was determined to finish those loose ends. I had done a styling job for Arrested Development and still had clothes to pack up and send back to their designers. After completing that, I got a phone call from a friend from college. As we talked, this buddy of mine proceeded to put in a state of goofiness with his jokes, causing me to get a severe case of the giggles when POP! My water broke with a vengeance and began to rush down my legs. I was still giggling and also feeling a lot a pressure as I rushed my bud off the phone, saying something classic like “I think my water just broke!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hubby called the midwife and here's where it gets sketchy-time began to have no meaning. At some point our midwife came and at some point I was climbing the walls and at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;some point&lt;/span&gt; I threw up ever morsel of my McDonald's meal, and at some point I was in the shower, and at some point the whole room we set up to have baby boy was changed by me 'cause the room I wanted to be in was much warmer, and at some point &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;Tioma&lt;/span&gt; was tell me to breathe the baby down and at some point I could feel the &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;ring of fire&lt;/span&gt; and then out came a head (relief) and then out slid a wet baby body (super relief)! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;Tioma&lt;/span&gt; dried off baby boy and then up to the breast, he latches. Happiness, Joy, counting fingers, counting toes, more joy, tears, thank you God!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Placenta out shortly after, look at that thing! Midwife examines it. Shows us the tree of life etched in it. We put it in the freezer to save for planting with a tree later. WOW! A little boy by my side. I’&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;ve&lt;/span&gt; had that little boy by my side ever since.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m amazed by my boy. When he was a baby, my girlfriend Micheala gave him the nickname "Biscuit", cause he was so juicy, you just wanted to dip him in some gravy and sop him up!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My little sweetheart, who nursed for three years, is already several inches taller then I. (He never fails to remind me.)  He’s a great student, and he is in love with animals. He has several snakes, turtles, lizards and other sundry creatures in the desert habitats that he created in his room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He prefers hanging out with our adult friends, his grandparents and his uncles more then he hangs out with kids his age. He loves Richard Pryor, Dave &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;Chapelle,&lt;/span&gt; Chris Rock and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;Katt&lt;/span&gt; Williams (he told me to add that). He’s got a wickedly dry sense of humor.  He loves teasing his sisters.  He loves dogs, (but I won’t get him one! Too much work!)  He’s a music lover and digs the stuff of now and old &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;skool&lt;/span&gt; equally. He is learning to play guitar and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;ain&lt;/span&gt;’t bad. He’s sensitive, shy at times and very handsome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look forward to the man he’ll become, the husband and father he will be. The profession he’ll choose, what will it be? He’d be a great vet or a great pediatrician, but of course, it’s his choice. One of the things I really love about him is that he really loves to hang out with his Grandmother and Grandfather.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love my boy, now, my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"&gt;manchild&lt;/span&gt;. I’&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"&gt;ve&lt;/span&gt; had this little boy by my side ever since and I pray to God that he will forever be as close to me, if not physically, in his heart, as he was when he was a baby, carried constantly in his sling. It’s so cool that when we go to church together, he scrunches down in his seat really far so that he can lay his head on my shoulder. I love it-I love him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you, S, for choosing me to be your mama. Let me always know how to be a good mama to you forever:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mama Kim</description><link>http://thecroneskitchen.blogspot.com/2007/12/biscuit.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mama Kim)</author><thr:total>12</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7079766831104373284.post-7780240947732173034</guid><pubDate>Mon, 19 Nov 2007 02:46:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-11-18T19:31:20.902-08:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">birth</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">breastfeeding</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">doula</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">keb mo'</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">kim durdin-james</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">lactation consultant</category><title>A Doula in the Kitchen</title><description>&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;Today, I had a chance to be interviewed by &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Keb’ Mo'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, a very awesome blues musician, for his web site &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.kebmo.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;www.kebmo.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;.&lt;/strong&gt; And guess what? The name of his show is &lt;strong&gt;“The Kitchen”-(&lt;/strong&gt;do we have a theme going on here or what?!!?) So it was like &lt;strong&gt;“The Crone’s Kitchen in Keb' Mo’s Kitchen”&lt;/strong&gt; FIERCE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, I am not in the music biz, (yet!) He wanted to interview me to learn more about what I do as a &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Doula&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;and&lt;strong&gt; Lactation Consultant&lt;/strong&gt;. He and his wife have a beautiful 6 month old son, and Keb' has an older son (almost 20!) as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Robbie experienced a natural birth in the hospital surrounded by her husband, her friend, (the OB) and her other friend (a midwife). They also had a great Postpartum doula whom they said they could not have lived without. Talk about support! Robbie and Keb' went through about 12 hours of labor and overall found their experience to be life changing, powerful and transformative.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keb' is doing this video/web blog thing as a way to raise social consciousness and give back to the community. Disappointed with what he sees on TV he has decided to make a difference by creating his own positive, progressive programming. Check out the interview upcoming on his site. I’ll try and upload it on this site at some point, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;ANYWAY,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;That got me to thinking, about being a &lt;strong&gt;so-called &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;“Doula”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; and what that means to me, and what I think it means to others...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did not become a &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Doula&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; because I wanted to be around birth. I mean, I learned a lot from my own birth experiences which were a c-section first and then a homebirth with my second. But, I never had the desire to be at someone else’s birth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Helping women with breastfeeding, though, was something that came natural to me, I don’t know why. People saw that I breastfed my kids, then they wanted to do it to, so I would help them out. I held breastfeeding support group meetings at my house in Brooklyn, and was surrounded by pregnant and nursing mothers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Doula&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; thing happened when folks started asking me to come to their births. I really didn’t want to go, but my friends just kept asking me. I was not interested in seeing all the bodily fluids and “stuff” that happens in birth. I was thinking, “No Way!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet after attending a few births, I noticed that I was completely relaxed with the birth process and really enjoyed the type of &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;vibrational field&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; that birth energy created. It’s so powerful and healing, and if you open yourself to it, everyone that witnesses it can float on that gorgeous energy for sometime. Best of all, the mom gets the highest of all, especially when the birth process goes well; she begins to feel her power as a woman to its fullest extent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That’s really how I got started in this business. I’ve had training and lots of experience now, but I have never found the need to become certified under one organization or another, as I try and blend all things and really just listen to what the woman who is going to be doing the birthing feels she needs, and &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I try and make that happen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lot of being a &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Doula&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;is “holding the space” for the birthing woman, father, and (let’s not forget) &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;the baby&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; that’s on its way! This act of witnessing and compassion creates a pure field of love for these new souls to enter peacefully, where Mom and Dad feel relaxed and supported.&lt;br /&gt;I am honored by each and every one of the families that have invited me into their lives, their hearts, and their most &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;sanctified moments&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, the birth of their children. And through my spiritual work, I am beginning to understand this work as a calling and a ministry.&lt;br /&gt;Going forward, I see more women in society being trained to be Doulas for each other. This is a way to build trust between women and help strengthen the bonds of love and community in ALL.&lt;br /&gt;A big &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;“Thank you”&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Mama Josie for thinking of me and hooking me up with your sweet friend, Keb and his beautiful wife and baby boy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</description><link>http://thecroneskitchen.blogspot.com/2007/11/doula-in-kitchen.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mama Kim)</author><thr:total>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7079766831104373284.post-4189363325585597931</guid><pubDate>Mon, 19 Nov 2007 01:05:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-11-18T17:15:38.244-08:00</atom:updated><title>I Have the Faith!</title><description>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Faith!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;FAITH!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;I have the FAITH!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shout those words in honor of Mama Mijan Owens, my sistah friend in the spirit who rocked it out at Agape today!!!&lt;br /&gt;God Bless you Mama Mijan, you were fierce! I have the&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt; Faith!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</description><link>http://thecroneskitchen.blogspot.com/2007/11/i-have-faith.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mama Kim)</author><thr:total>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7079766831104373284.post-2699809819550492814</guid><pubDate>Mon, 12 Nov 2007 17:19:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-11-12T18:59:11.671-08:00</atom:updated><title>The Essence of Pure Love</title><description>&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;On the last Sunday of October, 2007, Spirit gifted my family with a life-altering, spiritual experience unlike no other. (Get your cup of tea or coffee and stop whatever you are doing this instant to listen to this story!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me set this story up first. My spiritual home, Agape, had announced that they would be hosting &lt;strong&gt;Dr. A.T. Ariyaratne&lt;/strong&gt; as their guest speaker at the end of October. He would be speaking at all three services and doing an afternoon workshop as well. Honestly, I had never heard of this man before, but when I would open my church program, and look at the little flyer of his upcoming program, I felt drawn. There was a picture of this man’s face, and when I looked into his big, brown eyes, I could hear his spirit telling mine to “Come”. I heard it as loud as you can hear a silent call. It was very clear and it happened every time I gazed at his beautiful photo. I knew that I had to hear this man speak, and planned that nothing would prevent me from attending his talks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the last weekend of October approached, I became more and more excited. To add icing on the cake, my sweet, healing sister Anika, called to tell me that she was flying in for the weekend to see her Love (with a capital “L”) She vowed she would have time to come to the afternoon workshop and see Dr. Ariyaratne.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Sunday came, I was high on God and grateful to go to service anyway, with the added bonus of hearing Dr. Ari speak. I just knew he would be something special. Remember, I still don’t really know who this man is or what he has done. It was only his picture and his energy that drew me in so strongly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After all the wonderful singing, prayers and affirmations, Rev Michael begins to introduce his friend, Dr Ari. Dressed very simply in white pants and white shirt, this tiny little cherub of a man comes to the stage. His eyes are luminous, his demeanor, one of pure, yet fierce peace. He begins to speak about his work in Sri Lanka, where he is from.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is know way that I could describe all that Dr Ari is or all that he is doing and has done in this life. This story is not just about that but about my experience meeting him, so I urge you strongly to go to his website &lt;strong&gt;http://www.sarvodaya.org/&lt;/strong&gt; and learn and be healed by this incredible man and the spirit of his work. In a nutshell, in the span of 50 years, Dr Ari and his followers have developed over 15,000 sustainable eco peace villages in Sri Lanka, and other parts of the world. If you don’t know, Sri Lanka is a small country, racked by civil war, religious and ethnic violence, inept and corrupt government, not to mention being further devastated by the 2004 Tsunami. Dr Ari stated that his country makes the MAJORITY of its income from child sex slaves/workers that are used in Sri Lanka and exported to India and other countries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you get that? Their gross national product is top heavy with income from little 9, 10, 11 years old girls and boys being forced to sell their bodies. Dr Ari explained some of the reasons for this,including the number one reason, poverty and few viable opportunities to make income for your family. No money, sell your daughter, so that the rest of the family can live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do not judge my brothers and sisters in Sri Lanka and neither does Dr Ari. He has devoted his life to his people and done whatever he could to help them, for over 50 years!&lt;br /&gt;Dr Ari is called “the living Gandhi” and that almost says it all, however, let me tell you a little bit about his power.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When going from village to village to provide support, he never comes into a village announcing what he was going to do to help the people. Cloaked in the power of humbleness, he goes village to village asking them what they need, what are their concerns. After much discussion and council, he acts as a feisty grandfather, gathering resources and bringing disparate entities to the table to work together. He believes that THE GOVERNMENT WILL NEVER BE ABLE TO HELP THE PEOPLE,That we can only be saved by ourselves, by PEOPLE POWER.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the first stories that he shared had to do with one of their programs for pregnant couples. He said “Can you imagine a little girl of 10 or 11 pregnant, unsure of what is even going on in her body? How can she raise a child? I believe the roots of all violence come from parents who are unable to raise their children in the right way, because they just don’t know.” He works with pregnant couples. He describes the “young mother and the drunken fathers” that he encounters. He then talked of how he will teach anywhere from 60 to 600 pregnant couples how to meditate together and talk to the unborn spirit of their child. This small step helps to bring peace to mother and father, which in turn brings parents who can raise children in consciousness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Think about this, family.&lt;br /&gt;This is not hard.&lt;br /&gt;This is not rocket science.&lt;br /&gt;This is something we can all learn to do, and teach others how to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You don’t even need a degree. You just need LOVE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He recognizes what people need to have is peaceful, sustainable communities and he knows that it doesn’t come in the form of a handout from a government agency.&lt;br /&gt;Peace comes from knowing how to connect with pure Spirit and how to let that wonderful Spirit shine through you, first to heal yourself, and then, from the overflow, heal your children, and all those who you touch, working together for healing of the community.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, this is just but one small morsel of a story about this man and his movement. I urge you to go to his website, and hey, if you can afford it, sponsor a child for $25 dollars a year, or support another one of his fine works.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is so much more to tell. Honestly, I could write a book on the this one day that I was in this man’s presence. I am keeping this story very short for the interest of this forum, however, read on, there is more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After his talks during service, my hubby and I gathered up the kids, and brought them back to the afternoon workshop. There we met my mom and Anika. We felt so blessed to be in this room with man. Now there were maybe 100 people instead of the hundreds that had been there for the church service, so it was very intimate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rev Michael had mentioned earlier that when you go to Sri Lanka to visit him, that you can barely walk around with him, because as soon as people see him 1000’s swarm around him, just to kiss his feet. When you go in peoples homes, he said, Dr Ari’s picture is on there wall. I couldn’t help but to THANK GOD for inviting me in to this close gathering. I still couldn’t help but wonder, however, why so few people came out to hear his message?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course the workshop was awesome, his words answering so many questions I had in my own life. In fact, it was if every question I ever had about my life and my purpose was answered, EVEN THOUGH I NEVER ASKED HIM A QUESTION. Thank you GOD!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet it gets better. After his talk, I felt as if I was floating and I knew for sure I was glowing. As a matter of fact, everyone who was there was now walking around in the light. The glow was so bright, without hurting your eyes. It was around, Anika, my mom, my children, my husband. As we milled around the sanctuary, being in this feeling of pure love and joy, a wonderful thing happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rev Michael, while talking to hubby, invited our family to come and join him and his posse for dinner with Dr Ari and his entourage. Imagine, my friends, if you where invited to have dinner with Dr. King or Bob Marley, or Gandhi? WOW! We of course accepted and immediately cancelled any other plans we had for the evening.&lt;br /&gt;Driving to our hosts home, where we would meet for dinner, I couldn’t help but notice that the hosts home was on “Noble Ave”. &lt;strong&gt;Hmmm, God, you are something.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We arrived ahead of Rev Michael and were greeted by Dr Ari and his staff with hugs, kisses and love. Although Rev Michael had not arrived, we were encouraged to begin eating. A gorgeous spread of home-cooked Sri Lankan food was waiting for us on the table (check out pictures on my daughter’s blog, &lt;strong&gt;peacegangsta.blogspot.com&lt;/strong&gt;). Shortly after we began eating, Rev Michael, Dr Ricki, and their crew came in. Needless to say, we had a wonderful time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were all in this glow, my feet did not feel as if they were on the ground. And in this space I felt nothing but pure love, joy and gratitude. I felt as if I had been healed from the inside out. I also noted that we felt as at home as if we were on our own house. Nothing was different except the setting and the food. Here we sat with other brown people from across the globe whom we had barely met, yet felt completely at ease and in joy with. Dr Ari, his assistant Krishna (I love you Krishna!) and everyone there, engaged our children, loved our children and made us feel completely at home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When it was time for us to leave, these folks grabbed their cameras and took pictures of us with them as if we were the famous ones! Even trying to describe this to you beloved ones, brings fresh tears to my eyes. We left floating on a cloud. Driving home it felt as if GOD had our car in the palm of his hand. We got home swiftly, and although we had been in another part of the city, it felt as if we had left someplace just around the corner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could barely sleep that night. After the house was quiet, I spent an hour or so in meditation just thanking GOD. Eventually I went to bed. I could feel my feet tingling for over a half an hour, It wouldn’t stop and I wasn’t sure if I wanted it to stop! Close to dawn, I awoke from a wonderful dream. Sorry to keep you in suspense, but I will write about that in another post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That Monday morning, I was supposed to go on a management retreat for my job. I cancelled. I was too high on Spirit and knew that that was not where GOD wanted me to be (part of the answers to my questions) I was floating so that I forgot to drink my morning cup of coffee. I didn’t have any desire to do so for that whole day. (Those of you who know me know that I do nothing before my morning cup of coffee!) I didn’t need it! I felt more awake, alive and inspired then I had felt in a very, very long time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This feeling lasted for days. I have remnants of it now. But I know that that joy is embedded in my spirit and I am so very grateful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear GOD,&lt;br /&gt;I give thanks and praises to you always and forever. When I have question for You, You always answer. When I have a need You always fill it. My cup of healing, prosperity, understanding and love overflows. From this overflow I give to my husband, my children, my family the community and the world. I thank you GOD. Thank you for Rev Michael, Dr Ricki and their staff, and to Dr Ari and their staff and hosts. I live in gratitude everyday.&lt;br /&gt;Thank You, Thank You, Thank You&lt;br /&gt;A-men&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</description><link>http://thecroneskitchen.blogspot.com/2007/11/essence-of-pure-love.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mama Kim)</author><thr:total>4</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7079766831104373284.post-8170935921808168856</guid><pubDate>Sun, 11 Nov 2007 00:11:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-11-10T21:50:30.866-08:00</atom:updated><title>What the heck is a Crone and what's up with her kitchen?</title><description>&lt;span style="color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The American Heritage Dictionary describes a CRONE as an ugly, cantankerous, witchlike old woman. Elizabeth Davis, (midwife) and other empowered women who "GET IT" break through this narrow, male-dominated viewpoint and turn the description of the Crone on its head! (Thank you my sisters!)&lt;br /&gt;These wise women define a Crone this way;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;"&lt;em&gt;Both Mother and Crone engage in caretaking. The Mother nurtures her young, or some brainchild or creative endeavor, while the Crone, in her wisdom, nurtures society. These are the basic natural roles for women, yet neither comes easy in this culture. For instead of being sought out and honored for her seasoned perspective, the Crone is relegated to obscurity, guilty of the crime of aging. And the Mother has the overwhelming task of caring for children, partner, career and self in relative isolation. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Crones of the early matrilineal cultures of the Middle East and Egypt dominated the healing arts, working as physicians, surgeons and midwives. As scribes they recorded for both temple and court, maintaining vital records and histories, setting up calendars and official tables of weights and measures, transcribing and editing scriptures, running libraries. In many indigenous cultures, Crones have been revered for their Blood Mystery of menopause. By virtue of retaining their "wise blood" with all its magical and visionary properties, they are considered ready to lead society." from the book, "The Circle of Life" by Elizabeth Davis and Carol Leonard.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#330000;"&gt;My wonderful husband came up with the name "The Crones' Kitchen" after we spent several weeks coming up with name ideas for various business endeveours. (So cool that this idea was birthed by my man:) You go, baby!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Crones' Kitchen symbolizes the place where the Wise Women gather, to cook up nourishing and deeply satisfying food and ideas. The ideas they share come from their deepest meditations, visions, dreams, revelations and talks &amp;amp; walks with Spirit. They come together in a powerful and unified way. They come from different corners of the earth, from wide and varied experiences and circumstances. Having had children is not a prerequisite to being a Crone, however, she must have given birth to &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;something&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; greater and larger than herself. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330000;"&gt;She is fully awake in her power, and her beauty is not just in the subtle or deep lines in her face, but most importantly deep within her heart &amp;amp; spirit. This beauty radiates from her being as healing energy for all who are open to accept it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330000;"&gt;The Crones' Kitchen is like coming into your favorite grandmamas or aunties house, where you find solace and advice, comfort and welcoming energy. Where wonderful aromas pervade the environment, instantly bringing you a deep peace. It's where you go when you think you might need to leave your husband, and/or your children have hit on your last nerve, and/or you are ready to smack your boss. When you feel so overwhelmed by it all, by your role as a woman that you don't know where else to turn and you are not quite sure if you can make it another day, another minute! To be clear, they are not just there for women, they are there for society; man, woman or child. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330000;"&gt;When you call on them, they are there. All you have to do is ask for their help. When you do, they take you in, they feed you, provide you rest and their listening ear. With their wise and wonderful magick they effortlessly entertain and soothe your children. When you are ready, they give counsel, instructions and creative solutions for you to take on your journey. The time comes, you leave feeling reborn, empowered, strengthened and validated. You have been fortified with energy that enables you to face whatever challenges that come your way. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330000;"&gt;This is "The Crones' Kitchen". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330000;"&gt;When we examine the true meaning of the Crone and her incredibly positive energy and her ability to co-create with Spirit, I can't help to wonder how we managed to relegate and define her simply as (and with negative connotations) an "old, withered, witchlike women". The cantakerous part, I get!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How, my friends, do you think this happened? Your thoughts are encouraged and appreciated:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mama Kim&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</description><link>http://thecroneskitchen.blogspot.com/2007/11/what-heck-is-crone-and-whats-up-with.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mama Kim)</author><thr:total>4</thr:total></item></channel></rss>