Friday, December 31, 2010
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Here is one of my stories about how Shakma touched me and made a huge difference for me personally. In the spring of 2003, I had just joined Guardians of the Windsword when it had dedicated on Samhain 2002. I was excited to be attending a special event that the Assembly was hosting, having Shakma as a guest speaker for a weekend intensive. I had no idea what to expect. The air was still, and yet the excitement of the growing spring and our anticipation zinged through the great room like static electricity. Then Shakma was wheeled through the room to the front, I felt as if we should be standing in her honor. The sheer power of her presence was that of royalty.
She spoke of many things that day. Some I understood, like the value of truly having faith and listening without the need to immediately question or to react. She spoke to each of us who were in attendance, sometimes with difficult words of judgement, a call to action to each. She looked at me, a unsure, young woman of 21 and smiled in joy. The forceful pillars of firey power behind her eased, and I relaxed. She told me, "You are a priestess! Have you told your teachers your intentions?!" I said I had not, that I didn't know I was a priestess. "Well you better let them know! Cause you are a priestess! Mmm hmm. " She looked to the back of the room, shaking her finger at me, and gave Ivo a look. He nodded. After hearing what she had said, challenging some of my friends, I was petrified, glued to my chair in both respect and trepidation that I would set her off and break this spell of encouragement.
The next day we had a ritual in which everyone was to come to the center, the sweet spot of the domed great room, for an experience directly with Shakma and the Assembly's ancor, a huge brass cauldron. Shakma broke shells and barriers within me and I heard this ringing bell echo and spill forth from the cauldron, filling the room, and shaking through my being. That bell, was my own voice singing in joy and connection, heralding the priestess I would grow in be in the years to come.
That ritual was my first experience with cross tradition magick, Shakma, and the ASW's cauldron, open in all its splendor. The memory of the sound of that bell, that moment, the invocation of self, rings out to me often, awakening my magickal self and calling me to action in all of my parts. I would say that moment, is one of the most important tools I have as a magickal practicioner and I use it often.
The following is a glimmer of the hope and inspiration she called forth for us all. Thank you, and hail, Shakma Winddrum for the vital lesson and challenges you gave us all. The world is changed for the better for you having been here.
Thursday, November 25, 2010
I was sardonically thinking earlier today as I contemplated a blog entry that I during the darker months I should change the name of my blog from "Letting go is Flying" to "Slogging through SADD". Fortunately, even when I'm in the dumps, I'm really not THAT negative, so I won't indulge in that idea.
Last night Craig and I had a conversation about the research he'd been doing at the medical library of the hospital where he works. He wants us to invest in several things to make our tiny urban apartment more of a sanctuary for me. This includes a white sound machine that has birdsong and rain sounds, switching out our lightbulbs for full-spectrum bulbs, and lots of plants. Everyone that knows me, is aware of my huge penchant for plants of all sorts. I have not had the spare income in the past few years to really devote the resources into indoor gardening though. Now, its become a priority and I have to say, I am tickled pink! I'm looking into hanging plants, forcing bulbs, and creating an indoor green sanctuary this winter.
We'll see where it goes, but I'm looking forward to not having everything bear after I take down my holiday decorating.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Spark of spirit,
joining sky to ground.
Timeless and forever
Split second, fleeting.
lost in eternity
formless and no me
No-thing hung in stasis
Is that how all of the universe was created?
How is it that life hangs on a pinpoint?
No thoughts, no words,
Connection in all, otherness, nothingness.
Memory is nothing too.
No time, just one circular Now.
I've taken a little bit of a break for the past few weeks not blogging, not writing articles. I've been very busy living. Priestessing, teaching classes, leading my study group... All those things are par for the course. I've also found myself stretching who I am, how I define myself, and how I have been living. I've been daring to have experiences I wouldn't have dreamed of in the past. I stripped on stage in a gay bar in New Orleans and danced myself silly in my underwear and a latex neck tie. I've been flirty and outgoing, chatty--I've been having fun and letting go. I'm living as the quirky, queer person I am without excuses, shame, or guilt. There just isn't time nor space for shame or guilt in my life.
My dreamworld has changed lately too. Dreams of passing through worlds, meeting new people, and shape-shifting into animals, speaking with animals, and flying. Both in dreams and in waking I find myself falling into the abyss within the eyes of another. This is not oblivion, but pure connection--Oneness.
Yet, in contrast to the incredible experience life is, I struggle. I struggle with the challenging boundaries and hard-knock lessons of Saturn. I struggle with the long nights of the dark time. I struggle with the separation that is existence in Malkuth. Because I call my yearly struggle SADD (Seasonal Affective Depression Disorder) it is as if giving the struggle a name should explain it out of reality. This is not a failing on my part to be spiritual, connected, or positive enough. This is part of my challenges in this lifetime. I'm okay and others understand and are gentle with me. Saturn is forcing me to gain new perspectives and look for different types of solutions. SADD too, has a solution and I'm going to find it.
I share because our human-ness, our struggles, and fears need voice. We are not alone in this human experience. We are in it together, all a part of this great spinning sphere we call Earth.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Monday, October 25, 2010
In general I haven't found myself to be a political person. I'm interested in people on a one on one level, psychology of the mind and the connection we find in each of our personal relationships and encounters. On the other hand, I have found lately, that after much debate, worry, self-hate, doubt and years of loneliness, I'm getting to where I can talk about one thing that I feel so passionately about, that I'm willing to take a political stance over.
Gender--or possibly the lack thereof.
I hated myself so many years over my inability to confirm with societal expectations of how I was supposed to express myself as a female. I found comfort and resolution through the Goddess community and the Goddess of Wicca. I had other options of how to express myself.
Last year, I took it further by studying Hod of the Qabala for several months in preparation for getting reading for a major ritual. I kept going back to the cloying and undeniable magickal image that corresponds with Hod: The Hermaphrodite. The Hermaphrodite seems strange, and in congruent with other symbols or even the qabalistic system itself, and yet, I liked it! Not androgynous or without gender, but possessing the sexual powers and attributes and synthesized into one being! No wonder occultists of the 30's, even the 60's aren't talking about it. There is a major lesson in the discomfort and power of that symbol.
I'm sure I'll have lots more to say, but for now, I leave you with a couple of other bits of musing to ponder:
1. Kate Bornstein's latest blog post, as encouraged by Dan Savage's response to the suicides in the LGBT community: http://katebornstein.typepad.com/kate_bornsteins_blog/2010/10/it-gets-better.html
2. A bit of journaling I found inside my copy of Kate's book Gender Outlaw, nestled next to some outrageous Revlon lipstick ads on the back of a boarding pass from March 2007:
Are women in porn the aggressors?
If I am third, can I have heterosexual sex?
Does that mean I can only have gay sex?
Do my attitudes toward sex and gender force men to treat me as an equal, not lesser, but HUMAN?
They are uncomfortable.
Where is the blending of polarity. How does magick change if everything is shades of gray? How does my God and Goddess look when they become queer? Become third. ..
I will never be comfortable with being a woman because I do not want to be owned within that group as my identity.
I am queer.
I am learning to trust myself and not be owned by fear.
3. I also recommend highly Ursula LeGuin's The Left Hand of Darkness.
Self identity is magickally unique. The boredom, the lack of choices, the lack of language and experience we have as young adults is fleeting. I promise. It will get better.
We need your truth.
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Monday, October 4, 2010
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Here's a link to my latest article on witchvox. http://www.witchvox.com/va/dt_va.html?a=usnj&c=holidays&id=14181
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Before that I had been thinking about making my solar plexus both brighter and stiller. I had been talking in class about invoking Litha into SADD induced dark places of winter. I figured I could also invoke the still of the sun in all its power and glory into my center. Normally I connect to the Sun as movement, power, Will, and empowered movement. Today, though, in the peace of this autumn morning, there is no movement, no noise... I am holding onto my dreamscapes today. May the universe orbit around the bright stillness at my burning core.
Last night I had a moment in a dream so real that I wonder if it will be the most real thing I experience today. It was so real, I startled myself awake. So, I leave you with my favorite band ( Think I was actually at this performance), performing "I live on what's Left". This song is a bit of a personal anthem and it tends to change its meaning based on where you are when you come to it---both sides of the staircase of the underworld.
Monday, September 13, 2010
And into Hecate's arms.
Monday, August 16, 2010
As many of you know, now is the time where I start accounting for my year: looking at what I harvested, and making sure the rest of my harvest is well underway. Now is the time of the first harvest, where we can look at what is ripening and decide if it was enough. I started looking at what I'd accomplished this year so far (or from the last Samhain, which I would have considered the end of my last year. I've been so in the thick of immediate stressors that I hadn't noticed the fruit about to fall off the vine. In every avenue of my life I've gained great things this year.
Last night I dreamt that I was taking magickal inventory; cataloging, double-checking, and searching for this or that. I've been doing a lot of that at work, but it is time for me to do the same thing at home, internally. In fact, Gwaeron gave me the first reading he's every given me Saturday night. I found myself looking at the upcoming months with a bit more clarity and from a different perspective. I had visions during the middle of it from what was to come and what was really going on. The kind of rapport is always helpful magickally.
And yet, all signs point to down. The cards, my visions, my sight during my coven's ritual on Sunday, all tell me I have to return to the underworld for another descent. It is immanent, so I am getting my head around that as well. After the descent, rebirth, and a new life awaits me. It will never be the same.
There is only onward. I look toward the future and see Ansuz. Lots of them. Within that descent is a forest, a dense, vast thicket of a call to Divine speech, right language, and the Mystic connect to Divine Will. I will make my accounting, and choose my words wisely. There is much to be gained, and it is so easily lost.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
I have been quite happy to have spent the last 8 days doing mundane work. A new commute, a new job, fixing up my house for sale... I found that, unexpectedly I didn't miss that I wasn't doing ritual, pushing myself magickally, or plumbing the depths of my psyche. In fact, a lot of the spiritual discontent I have grown accustomed to, just wasn't there. I was happily doing normal, mundane things.
Yesterday I had the great opportunity to attend a Hecate attunement offered by Jason Miller at the local Pagan shop, Mystic Spirit. As I went through the grounding, centering, and connecting exercises in the ritual, I felt layers of my energetic bodies unfurling like fiery wings. The floor pulsed beneath me and like a hook into the back of the head of a fish, the descent took hold.
No, I do not sleep. Middle work is valid too. I am very awake, and satisfied in my Malkuthian journey for now. The gears of the wheel turns, ever spinning, ever faster. The march of the current carries me down the path of this year. As the harvests have begun, I feel that I too have crested a great summit. May the momentum of the year carry me into the rest of completion and to a joyous Yuletide in its due time. Blessed be.
Friday, July 23, 2010
The thunder rolled and crashed
it light up the sky
humid summer air and a pack of dogs
Athena, Zeus, and Apollo.
Unassuming virility and passion
lite up your eyes in a citrine glow
the electrical spark across the sweat of your skin
and the fluctuating caress of teasing
A satyrs lust and joy of life.
lupine fantasies, dragon's gaze.
A new doorway opening
to the gateway of night.
Monday, July 19, 2010
I asked for something more.
I knew it was here,
I'd been here before,
somewhere near the rabbit hole.
through time and the layers of memory I fell.
Here again in this place
lit by moonflowers and lightning bugs.
The scales have fallen
there's no turning back.
following the unicorns tracks.
The clock strikes it toll.
Each cycle of blood
Upon the barrow's, knoll.
The moon's mirror is dark
time's made its mark.
If I had only but knew
I'd bittten more than I could chew.
Tethered now upon God's yoke
I pray for fate, don't let me choke.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
The mist always told me of the treasure it had in store for me. In the muffled silence I could see through the white wall. There was a whole new world waiting on the other side. Through the rushes and under the water. Peace and cool, webs hung with dew. Her voice carried me down, through the water to the opening at the bottom of the lake.
Slingshot through the gateway of the moon, the Lady waited for me. Shifting and changing, bright into dark and back into the moonlit glow, her image flickered. She smiled. I had come home.
The hounds take me onward. Into the blooded night. I bleed into the dark earth, silent. The aching is a connection as well. She witnesses me, and I connect to her. The throbbing continues, a mystery of blood. Although I am silent, she hears me. My silent voice is heard, and recorded. The crone's words still echo in my ears, "Magick is everything. Wicca is your life" And it is so.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Freedom of belief and freedom to choose the specifics of one’s path are some of the most highly valued ideas in Pagan religion and practice. It is something that I have come to almost take for granted. Recently I was exposed in a visceral way to the alternate viewpoints that other religions proscribe to. This exposure triggered some memories from my teenage years, when my quest for spiritual fulfillment became an important facet of those formative years.
I was a very religious and devout kid. I desperately wanted to be good and do God's will and perform my purpose in life. I wanted to live right and be a good person. I was obsessed with Sunday morning service and had memorized all of the rituals of the ministers, acolytes, and cross bearers by the time I was 5. I had all the liturgy for communion memorized and even knew all the sung choral responses throughout the service. I dreamt about being able to carry the light into the church and tend the altar. (I think it is fitting that after so many years, praying with a lit candle by my bed, that I wound up working very closely with Brigid when I became Pagan). In that way, I still tend the flame and pray and meditate in a very similar way as I did all those years ago.
When I was 14, I attended a Christian camp for a week with my best friend. I felt so close and cared about. I listened to sermons and bible study, made new friends, and watched as young people got in trouble for foolish acting out. There was hazing, and a bit of brainwashing, in the name of God. I found it confusing. And at the same time, I wished so bad to be pure, to be God's chosen, that I desperately wanted to be Baptized. At the time, I was very upset to find out that there had to be parental permission. I petitioned my parents to let me be baptized and join my friends church. My mom told me confusing words, "Wait until you're 18. If you still want to be Baptized then, go ahead." I felt like she had abandoned me. I wanted something holy, sacred, and pure, and I was not allowed. I wasn't allowed to go to the YMCA church lock in, or the 24 famine fund raiser. I thought she was being cruel. She was worried about me being taken advantage of. She did let me continue being a part of the church's youth group and I made great friends. I threw out all my vampire and new age books I had collected all through childhood. I quit celebrating Halloween, threw out a massive vampire novel collection, and wanted to be a good Christian girl in every way. In fact, I suppressed a lot of my natural predilections and desires in order to try to fit into a very strict, judgmental group of people.
It just occurred to me tonight, that the scare tactics I was subjected to as an impressionable 14 year old were cruel and unfair. How could adults trained in this sort of psychological conditioning, brainwashing, and bullying use such tactics on children? They are brainwashed themselves out of thinking. They think they are justified and holy. Even then at that camp, I thought the hazing was unfair and completely outside of what Jesus would have done. Jesus always seemed like an accepting, loving, tolerant, pacifist to me.
Shortly after turning 18, I told my mother that I wanted to tell her about the new spirituality I had discovered and chosen for myself, called Wicca. I explained a bit about it and she immediately responded, "I am so glad you've found your spirituality so young!" It was so easy and I've always had so much support from my family. They knew I'd found what I'd been looking for. Ever since then I've flourished and grown stronger, happier, and healthier.
I'm going to have to thank my mom for making me wait. That must have been a hard decision for her to stick by. Too bad I felt so alone and hurt because she was doing what she thought was in my best interest. I couldn’t understand her reasoning, but I do now.
My family had always valued critical thinking, independence, and education. My father even read to me every night Greek mythology and bible stories. I understood at a young age that the parables in the bible were metaphors to teach us lessons and were not to be taken literally. I do not feel that this idea hindered my ability to believe or have faith, but gave me more ways to find meaning in literature and later, belief in the world’s mythologies.
I left that church at 15 after a youth group meeting when they preached against gays. I had a major problem with the hate and prejudice they all exhibited on fellow humans. How could external judgment be valid. I felt that judgment was for God alone. In fact, in the questions of the 42 assessors in the Egyptian rites of the dead, you are questions and assessed before Ma’at, not a human, earthly court.
Later, when I was 17, I had the opportunity to give the sermon for the youth run service at my family’s church. I delivered a talk about the acceptance of our fellows, that judgment was for God alone, and Jesus taught us to love one another. Love is giving, forgiving, accepting, and graceful. It can't be wrong or sinful. Love is love. We all know that, deep down inside.
Ten years later, I'm still preparing talks and classes. I'm teaching Love in the world as I see it to be true. I can think for myself and encourage people to question things and create their own beliefs to stand by. I still tend the flame, and keep rituals in my home. I am closer than ever to the Gods and to my Faith. I hope that as a Priestess I can make a major difference in this world. Even if it’s one moon, one month at a time.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
I sit upon the stairs of the Temple of Saturn,
looking out unto the gray vista.
Heat waves off of the still pool.
I pray for rain, but there are no clouds with which to carry.
Now, after I have known Aphrodite, I dream of Pan.
Moist skin, my hair hanging limply wet against my face and neck.
Damp sheets curl around the musk of the night.
No cloying jasmine perfumes the zephers tonight.
Encased in shadows, in stillness, in dark, I move.
Down through the layers of dreaming and sleep,
to the place in between, where cords of tension pull.
Not a priestess of Aphrodite, no, but Warrior kith.
Persephone drops the seeds of her red tears,
one by one into the pool.
And here in the Temple of Saturn I wait,
for the train of Time will come for me.
I shoulder my sword, glistening in the moonlight,
A sharpened edge, keen and watching, on point.
Sushumna, and then, sleep.
Sunday, July 4, 2010
Some things I am contemplating:
My, and society's, relationship with money.
My responsibilities as a debt owing, consumer, and wage earner.
The role of vocation, career, and wage earning.
The definition of abundance, prosperity, and wealth.
Realities or lack there of, of cash flow, scarcity, and employment.
I don't do lethargic or lazy. This process should be an interesting lesson in time management, accomplishments, and a redefining of my priorities. I am enjoying the missing labels for myself right now. I have been reading about magick, creative visualization and manifestation, entrepreneurialism, psychology, economics, marketing, and inspiration and art. I am keeping my body fit. I'm about to get married (yay). I am welcoming change and this opportunity to redefine who I am and how I fit into the world. I'm glad to have you along for the exciting ride.
Here's to the opportunities awaiting us all! Cheers!
Monday, June 7, 2010
Mediocrity. I can't stand it. I cannot settle.
Does the outside world even matter? It seems like an illusion. The state of affairs not even real, all depending on the state of my mind at the point of interface.
I'm building a grand masterpiece. Tragedy or heroic effort, one doesn't know. Does it even matter as long as its grand? John Steinbeck would understand.
All I need is a hammer to break through this glass enclosure. Yet, I have a hammer, tetsui, right here, at my beck and call at any time. I am not afraid of the pain, but to be cut, to be damaged, am I willing to risk it? Life is dangerous and to achieve great things I must also take the risks. So many things, dreams, phantom houses of cards seemed so unreal, are now waiting for me to take them. This, ah, the mai ai, is waiting for me.
And yet, I want to bury it, kick it, turn everything inside out. I want to scream my rage at the destruction, the dead ocean, the pain.
Within me is the nexus of a new beginning. I can break the cycle, and I can be the progenitor of new life. She calls me, and I am afraid.
The hag is wrong, my dream will not be stillborn. She and I have great things to do. Just as I sing my mother's lullabies to my Love, then shall I sing those songs and new ones, in my mother's inherited voice. I am strong, carrying the legacy, the promise, the magick, the charm of my family, to a new generation to carry it into the future, to a new day.
The noble, the few, the pure, this can be held sacred and protected.
What have you to protect? To speak up for? What is worth saving? I am my mother's daughter and my father's son. I am lover, teacher, priestess, witch, friend. The Goddess held me and let me be reborn in the ringing tone of my own voice of the cauldron so many years ago. That tone rings true even now. That tone is my spark, my spirit, my Truth. That tone will be the accompaniment to my voice, singing the matrilinear songs, to my Daughter, she who is not, but some day will be.
sculpture by Laura Larson
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Friday, May 21, 2010
Poor child. No, I think she did acclimate to the ho hum drum world an annihilated it for its sheer perversity. Alice became an amazon of her world, a Lady Knight an Mistress of her realm. For don’t you see? Anything she came across was her realm, for wherever she was, she was there. A riot of stripes in red and black, hearts, clubs and spades, her wear was natty, dapper, and prim. Ribbon, and gathers, and buttons done up, but a feral wildness of Wonderland was unfettered within. Unruly curls would obscure her face for the Jabberwocky’s grasp kept her mind in a haze. Be mindful of Alice that queer, delirious dame, for what she has seen could sweep you away.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
I have always agreed that the really hard, personal work, no matter how close you are to people or how many loved ones you have, is done alone. Daily practice, meditation, shadow work, whether you are solitary or in a magickal working group, must be practiced alone. Those dark nights of the soul where we battles with our shadows, demons, fears, and challenges, take us to a place where no one can follow. We must face the Goblin king at the center of the dark labyrinth alone, for as Sarah in the Labyrinth says, “that is how it is done”. There is a truth here, and yet, the sentiment can also lead one astray into dead ends and false mirrors of unnecessary loneliness and despair.
Solitude is necesary for seeking within. The silence and wisdom of stillness, of waiting, of listening, is one of holding the strength of a strong dark space within. This dark space, the dan tien, is much like the center of a galaxy or universe, the black whole of perfect stillness and awesome power. Deep within that darkness, within and beyond the center is the source of your power as well.
It is necessary to sometimes turn away from the outward, the constant go, go, go of society. If we are only doing, there is no space for being. If we are only speaking and making and creating, there is no space for listening. The act of metaphorphisis happens in the binding confines of a cacoon. It takes time, stillness, and the courage to reduce oneself to a primordial goop that something new can be created from those base parts.
Being a contemplative and fiercely independent person, however, I find that I can sometimes go too far. I run out of torch light and then find myself bumping about in the dark, lost underground in the underworld of my own mind. It is these times where I have to wait and reach out for help. As I turn outward and have the audacity to cry out, to ask for help, help is always there. It is only when we don’t reach out due to fear, insecurity, or doubt that we condem ourselves to solitary prisons. In fact, there is more help that we could ever imagine.
My greatest lesson has been to learn to be crysalis goo. I have to be willing to let go, to break down, to cry. When we let go, and surrender to the process of becoming, of life, of transformation, then we are able to truly feel connection. It’s everywhere! The Unity of all things, the splendor of relationships, and the pervasive love of creation is waiting for you to reach out to it. This is a great Love, understanding, and compassion just waiting to reach us half way.
For as Doreen Valiente says in the Charge of the Goddess:
“I am the Gracious Goddess, who gives the gift of joy unto the heart of man.
Upon earth, I give the knowledge of the spirit eternal; and beyond death, I give
peace and freedom and reunion with those who have gone before. Nor do I demand aught in sacrifice; for behold, I am the Mother of all living, and my love is
poured out upon the earth.”
Falling into the Void is an illusion. There is only flight. There is only change. Reaching out requires us to be vunerable, yes! It’s scary to be a teary eyed pool of goo. Changing means that the old you, the comfortable, worn out, status quo has to die in the process.
Yet, it’s even scarier to be completely alone. Put down your armor, your defense mechanisms, and connect. Through reaching out to the pervasive emmanent divinity in everything you will find an exponential stream of blessings pouring out before you. There you will find a pathway to magick, to the Divine, to the Eternal. And in this way, there is divine in both everything around you and in you, but also above and beyond you.
“And thou who thinkest to seek for me, know thy seeking and yearning shall avail thee not unless thou knowest the mystery; that if that which thou seekest thee findest not within thee, thou wilt never find it without thee. For behold, I have been with thee from the beginning; and I am that which is attained at the end of desire.” ---ValienteBy turning within, we create the possibility of becoming more. The truth is we are never completely alone, never completely in darkness. By turning within we learn who we are that we can share that unique pulse of live outward with the world.
I feel I have no right to keep that pulse of life within or to hide it. This is our greatest challenge and greatest joy. This is our Work for a lifetime of one who walks the path between the worlds and lives the enchanted life of the witch.
Earlier this week I found myself singing "This little light of mine", a bible song I learned as a child. Honestly, it was the only one I liked. I thought about Thelema a lot this past weekend and find that song still, completely illustrates my feelings of shining your truth that it is shared with the world.
Echo the sun, be sun-like. Share in love and truth. Let your power be seen and celebrate it for all to see.
“for behold, all acts of love and pleasure are my rituals. And therefore let there be beauty and strength, power and compassion, honour and humility, mirth and reverence within you.” ---Valiente
That's right, I'm gonna let it shine! Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine! Hail to the growing power of the sun, that you will share, and love and shine your truth as well.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Who is this flower above me?
and what is the work of this God?
I will know myself, in all of my parts.
I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and I don't know the woman staring back at me. So much has changed that there is a different light coming through. From my perception, I look very different than I did a couple of years ago. Can we call this aging? That no longer do I have the plumpness of childhood babyfat or naievity of the innocent? Is that a smile line now permanently marking my mouth? Yes and no. I have reached a point physically where I don't have to negotiate and plead the person at the counter of a liquor store to let me buy a bottle of wine to complete my evening meal. I have desperately tried to gain the respect of an adult and finally have succeeded. Now I can let my hair down and just live.
At the same time I am suddenly feel more in control of my facilities, that my mind works in ways I ask it to and that my magick is suddenly, finally in the right gear. It was as if until this time, the gears clicked and never really made smooth transitions. I've spent the greater part of 30 years trying to be old enough. (Capricorns are born as little adults, don't you know). Now I feel like I am at an age where I can just live and not have to worry about what age, stature, or status I may or may not have.
Oh to let go of worry, of fear, of doubt! Trado ut Fuga indeed (my new moto if you didn't notice the update of my blog title. It means surrender to flight [I think Buzz Lightyear would approve]). The further I surrender to the process the easier it all is and the more life is showering upon me unending blessings. Maybe it is a matter of perspective, but its a perspective that I am digging into as much as possible. It is so freeing to be able to relax as if floating; floating on air in flight, floating in the water as if I were a lotus, floating beneath the earth in the embrace of dream-soaked sleep. ....gently down the stream, merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, life is but a dream.
And I marvel, like a child fascinated with her reflection in a pool of water. Who is this shining dove? What is this amazing process of unending transformation? I don't know. It's beautiful. I fly, I coast, I soar. Day and night, stars and sun, circling over the sea. The white day star shines over me, never leaving me, guiding me at the center of my universe.
Everything was true. Everything I hoped for, feared, and doubted. It was all true. This is faith. And my belief and faith in the world(s) grows ever larger. Something is becoming. Each step brings it closer. I can feel it electrically dancing around me. I am the creator of something new, something Spring, something Now.
Monday, May 3, 2010
Friday, April 30, 2010
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Float, be still. Stop your thrashing and be supported, weightless and timeless. Allow yourself to change, meld, become—becoming something new, something more. Leave your tears to the Bitter Sea. She will take them as your just sacrifice. The Silent Mother awaits you. Turn not away dear warrior child.
Need you not the bonds of iron for strong are the cords of promises, spoken and unspoken of your own tongue. Obligation binds you and Duty is your witness. Such thin, invisible threads you dare not break. The web is woven, Ariadne the foreman.
Give in, give in, the siren calls. Trust to faith in the strength of this net. Knotted together, one unto the next, the strength of many is at your call. Beneath the water is not the end, but beyond nine waves is the realm of the All.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
In laziness, in turning away from divine will, there is turmoil, confusion and slavery. In service to truth and freedom and Will, there is fluidity, satisfaction, and fulfillment. There is growth and abundance in these actions.
Today I stepped out of my office, by which I mean desk-slave cell, and into a wondrous environment of a sultry spring day. We are in April, that fabulous time where the air is thick with flowers and birdsong and laughter. The sun was shining and the breeze was pleasant. I sat by the river and read of shoes and ships and sealing wax, and cabbages and kings. Actually I’m reading a book that right now is about the politics of kings and priests. The book is the Seedbearers by Peter Valentine Timlett. One character has to follow with faith his understanding of what spirit wants from him and publicly defy what had been politically decided for him. A priestess meditates on the necessity of the priesthood after a blood lusting general scoffs at the priesthood as weak and useless.
She mentions how if the priesthood and connection to inner planes and ascended masters were not needed, that priests would no longer exist. But they do exist. Priests rise to serve the people and to help connect the people with the divine, and in this, the people evolve.
You might argue that as pagans we are all priests and priestesses directly with our Gods and no clergy is needed. I would say that those drawn to pagan ways do so because they are interested in divine connection and the otherworld and understanding of our spiritual nature. Occult knowledge is complex and by its very name, hidden. I for one may have been able to always connect with something transcendent and eternal, but like the mystic, had trouble holding on to that connection. The training of known pathways and gateways to stronger connection and the training of psychic and energetic skills has been of immeasurable use to me. My life is enchanted, my faith stronger, my energy healthier, and my future more sure than when I started on this path alone. I find both freedom and surety of purpose and the drive to go confidently onward into a future and not cower in fear and indecision.
I serve the Queen of the Witches.
I serve the God of Lords.
I serve the fulfillment of my work in this lifetime, to the best that I am able.
I look toward the future and see a golden bull holding the rising sun between his horns. The rays carry me forward into the diffusion of eternal brilliance and in this may I seek unity and gnosis.
Monday, March 29, 2010
my skin gilded, lips part.
Held not within a cage, but a cauldron,
Opal egg of a future unfold.
Cords of tension hold us together,
Vibratory, pulling, chaving, singing,
We pull each other up, climbing upward.
And the mountain sings a droning hum.
Mage wind stirs, pulling the sails
Out onto the endless sea
Crystals tinkling faery song
Dance through my hair
And dance across my ears like gentle fingertips.
Stars above and stars below
An endless twlight glow.
And upon my feet silver sandles
Skim the surface of the water below.
Glory show me the path of clarity
Desire burn true, the seven eternal flames
Power be balanced in love and restrain
I seek the pinnacle of the power of belief, of change of movement.
I seek the humility of service and sacrifice.
May that sacrifice be in service to Love and not to martyrdom.
May wisdom be guided in truth, in experience, in harmony.
May Beauty be the product of the life pulse of love.
I kneel on the dais below the oculus of the Sun.
I will not bow my head, but search skyward.
I reach the stars above me but grasp not.
There is nothing there to own, but to marvel
In an eternal dance of light and Time
I am a sparkle of mist, in a pinpoint of infinity.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
http://http://www.tarotoftheboroughs.com/ A great new tarot deck that has sharp images and a poignant, modern message too.
http://headforred.blogspot.com/2010/03/waking-up-from-goetic-sleep.html I really like his attitudes toward magickal practice. Its been giving me a lot to chew on, and Rufus references Jason Miller, whose blog can be found:
And Detura Press. http://www.daturapress.com/www.daturapress.com/Welcome.html
Debbie Chapnick, owner of detura press has some great thoughts on her blog that introduce topics that can be found in the new Anthology of Occult Wisdom series of the achieves of the Servants of the Light, Delores Ashcroft Norwicki and more to follow. http://daturapress.wordpress.com/2010/03/15/the-origins-of-power/
Monday, March 8, 2010
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
This past month I’ve found myself teaching, leading a study group, and in a college course. I am weaning myself back into the model of college student and find myself picking up old study habits. I have a lot of trouble concentrating at night to read and retain dry textbooks. When I was in school, I would wake at 5 in the morning, when it was quiet to study with the dawn chorus and my cats. Slowly I’m setting the clock earlier and earlier to use the quiet hours in study rather than feeling guilty at night that I don’t have the energy. I plan on using those hours even when my study for the week is complete, in meditation, journaling, and going to the gym. My contemplative, practice hours have returned. The funny thing is the impetus for this change has been out of necessity, but at the same time, the lethargy of wanting to stay in bed is fading. I want to get up, I want to start the day, and I am less tired now that I am more busy.
Hail to the dawn!
I have come to a point where a lot of my work will be patient practice. My lessons that I need to work on are mostly not in books right now. Meditation, disciplined sitting, just coming to the altar daily, and personal development in an internal alchemical way are my current tasks. I remember when I first joined my coven, my HPS was adamant about the importance of daily practice. She mentioned that those who know, can tell when a person has the discipline and strength of daily practice. I have on occasion help such a practice for a while and always needed to rededicate myself to the practice. . I admired her unyielding steadfastness.
I am also learning the value of resiliency and flexibility. Having a strong core implies that there is also not the brittleness that comes with being immobile.
Great, strong trees bend wildly in storms. In 2003, I witnessed a mild hurricane. I sat in my house, dry and quiet in the lack of electricity. The wind and rain whipped around the house and the trees danced and thrashed. The storm itself smelled of the ocean gone ashore and the energy was wild. Within the safety of my house I did not feel fear, but awe. The trees were what got me. Even the ones that fell or broke did so like a jump of faith off a cliff into the future or into death. No fear, just grace and acceptance. It was a great wisdom the trees gave me then, and I have tried ever since then to adopt that faith and fearlessness into my own life.
I have also been working lately with fear. Fear as illusion, fear as cleanser, fear as guardian at the gate of the threshold of newness and of the unknown. From where does fear and panic originate? What shadow memory does it herald? When we choose what causes us pain and fear and instead trust and have faith in the process our the paths of our lives, fear becomes our teacher and guide.
I found myself in a vision last night, transported unexpectedly to a place I had once visited before. For this illustration, I will call it the Temple of Saturn. Instead of the grey fallen angel prostrate in front of the pool of granite, There were several of these priestesses, silent, gray and cold. There is stillness and silence. In fact, I too felt still and silent as if breath, pulse and thought had all slowed down to a pause. I was one of these grey, still priestesses. Watching, alert, silent. Keeping observance. Timelessness.
The center, the place within known as the don tien, is often described as a place of stillness. I have always felt that place as a heavy, active spot, center of gravity and density, and pressure. In the Temple, all was still. Inside that tight point of density is a vast emptiness---space and peace. Blessed be.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Often people have left Christian upbringing and come to Paganism as a way to get away from opressive Mother Church. I left the church I grew up in because I had had enough of the hypocracy of church leaders and the politics. I had tried to keep in mind that my behavior should honor God in his house. I was very devout and dedicated to my religion and devotion to God. From there, I decided to learn as much as I could about early Christianity and what Jesus was actually trying to teach. I read about Gnosticism, Esceticism, and Judaism. I even got my first taste of Kabbalah. I really liked the ideas of the overlooked Female figures is the texts other than the Torah; the Shekinah, Lilith, and Sophia. I decided that my practice would have to be of my own making as the Christian church didn't resemble at all the early teachings. I read the Gospel of Thomas.
I took a step further when I discovered sex and decided that God created something that was a beautiful gift to humanity. I could no longer focus soley on a transcendent reality when earthly existance could be harmonious and beautiful. I was angry at how I was raised as a subverted female and broke away from my foremother's history and became a raging feminist. The Goddess helped me become a healthy woman rather than a ashamed one. I started forming a sense of self with the support of the other women in circle together with me.
Some of what I had loved about the church was the ritual. Formalized robes, altars, incense, candles, song, prayer, and traditions repeated over the years. I also looked up to the crone who had taken me under her wing in service to the Goddess. A solitary path with me, the God, and the Goddess was fine for my since of peace, but much of the splendor of miracles and magick were found sharing with other people. I wanted formal training and I wanted to share with other women who needed the healing and transformation I had received.
Therefore, I sought out the Assembly of the Sacred Wheel which became my coven, friends, and spirtual family. I met them in 2001 and joined in 2002. I initiated in 2005 and consider my life's work to be within this organization. What makes coven work worth it is the smiles you see every time you meet, the heartfelt connection, and the support that we all progress together. The longer I am within the ASW, the more I can see the growth over the long term. This Wheel is the hub, the moving, spirally, yet steady point that I build my life around. The very organization is stable and strong, and I know that it will always be there for me. The people, the magick, the work give me strength for everything else that life throws at me. The harmony between people in accord lends faith when I am doubting and light when I am confused or in darkened places.
This past weekend I had the opportunity to celebrate Yule and participate in sweatlodge. By Sunday, I felt an overshadowing aura of love and care that continues to deepen through the years. I am so blessed to have such a caring community and such strong friendships.
Furthermore, I find myself a part of an evolving and growing community of similar friendships in NJ. I have hope and faith for the future. The coming year will be busy with lots of challenges but with as much laughter, tears, joys, and tribulations. I hope that I will learn, deepen friendships, and strengthen my family and communities.