Regeneration

Originally posted to the Pagan Blog Project 2013 as Week R
**Technical difficulties posting.Sorry!**

The longer nights give me more time to read and ponder; to examine my life and consider how I will make the changes that need to be made. The Irish call this time of contemplation the Place of Deep Indwelling. Like seeds placed in the rich, dark soil of Autumn which incubate, sending their roots deep into the earth and their leaves sun ward, I work at regeneration and revival of my spiritual life.

Building a personal spiritual practice takes time: time to read and digest. Time to study and put into practice. To see how well things work- and what doesn't work.

I only keep what resonates within me. There are many things which I find interesting, but I know are not for me. Some things which were beneficial early in my spiritual formation are discarded when they no longer make sense or no longer work. When I first came to Paganism, I had no teacher other than the natural order. I developed rituals and spells on my own based on what I felt. Later, when I was introduced to a formal occult tradition, there were many rules and guidelines to learn and follow as a member of a coven. I did so for a year and a day, and several years more as I achieved the tradition's degrees. I studied esoteric traditions along side the courses that lead to my ordination into a mainstream Christian denomination. I saw nothing that contradicted one or the other, until I took a sabbatical and began discernment...and then I began 'cleaning house', sweeping away those things that no longer served the greater good or grew who I was becoming.

Rules are needed to keep chaos in check,but too many rules create their own disorder and confusion. I kept the basics that made sense: the belief in the Divine and the Source of the Universe; maintaining a daily devotional practice; practicing the tried and true methods of spellworking and magick. The rest I allowed to gradually fall away: rigid belief in specific orders of worship; preconceived notions of Divine expectations; rules I was told needed to be followed to the letter, lest dire consequences result. The less I participated in groups, the less my practice was influenced by others.

I love pomp and liturgy, but they have their place. I began this path listening to the voice of the Divine through Nature, without labels, degrees, or roles to execute. In the past year I have returned to the simple practice of allowing the gods to guide my worship and magick. The result has been a relationship with the Divine that is more conversational than just me kneeling in the temple in supplication. I can cast my solitary circle whenever it feels right to do so-with or without the tools and assorted accouterments. For me, this has resulted in a less pretentious, more genuine-feeling form of the Craft.

I know in my heart and with my head that I will never return to the formal mainstream religion I left. Not that it was wrong-just that I doesn't fit in the plan for my own spiritual integration and growth. The same can be said for the esoteric traditions I have studied: I am keeping what feels right and applies to where I am currently in my understanding of the Craft. I may never celebrate in those circles again, but I will give credence to their contribution to my solitary practice.

Like the salamander or the Phoenix that continuously regenerates, I rise again, content that my spirit is reborn anew.

Regeneration

I've written before that the time between Samhain and Yule is a period of hunkering down and nesting for me. The darkness and longer nights lend themselves to reflection. I have an extensive library because I love books: all kinds of books. I was a bookseller a decade ago,and  handling books everyday gave me a new respect for the artistry of the medium. Books have a life force to them which I don't feel when I use e readers; although there is nothing wrong with a e reader- I think they're great- they're just a different form of media. Books are  handled by many people before they end up on your shelf at home, so possibly what I'm picking up is the energy left not only by the author, but everyone who has been involved in the process. I also find that books which come from the little hole in the wall store have a definite vibration- but that's a whole other blog.

Not everyone has the luxury of kicking back every evening to read. I realize that. It was always a chore for me when I was working long hours: all I wanted to do was fix a little dinner and relax with a book. I owned the house my grandparents left me, and it was, frankly, a fixer-upper. It took a lot of fixing and maintenance. There was a big yard with a huge lawn that always seemed to need mowing, the garden needed weeding, the flowers needed watering and pretty soon I found I was a slave to the house.

I was overwhelmed by working and then coming home to do something for the house-not something to improve the quality of my life, mind you, but something the house demanded. While I was grateful to own my own home, I was growing resentful that it took away so much of my time.

It was an Epiphany when I discovered that it was more important to take care of me than the house.
I became run down and was sick more often. I'd take a daily shower but only wash my hair every other day because it took 30 minutes to condition and dry it, so I'd pin it up to be presentable so I could use the 30 minutes to garden. Or do laundry, mow the grass, prune bushes, dead head flowers, repair whatever needed it. I realized I was just doing these things to keep up with the neighbors expectations. So I stopped. The vegetables got a little too big and the weeds got a little taller, and the dishes piled up in the sink some nights, but I was tired of waging of doing battle.

Learning to prioritize wasn't easy. The house and job still made demands and deserved their respective attention...but I carved out my time because I deserved a little attention, too.

I began to schedule a couple of hours every night to just relax, read and study. I made it into a ritual: after dinner I did what absolutely had to be done in the line of 'house work', then I got out the books I wanted to read, a writing tablet, a cup of Earl Grey tea, and went to the living room and lit a candle-a cast a circle. This was now sacred space and time, and nothing was permitted to intrude. I read, I took notes and reflected on what I was reading, drank a  couple cups of tea and snuggled with my cat. It became a magickal time out of time and I looked forward to it every night. I became calmer and more sane because I was feeding my soul.

Now this is what deep Autumn is for me: a time of regeneration. What always felt like a fallow time of the year is now rich and productive. Over the last few days I've thought about what I wanted to do to improve myself, my life and my world, I've thought about how I can be of better service to others- and then I went to my bookshelves and made a list of books. Some I need to re-read in more depth so I can see them with new eyes; others I will read for the first time. My evenings to delve into this world of discovery are delineated by sacred space. I have found candles that burn for approximately two hours, and I have a lovely incense to help set the mood.

Within in that time I will become lost in the pages of a book or two...but I will find myself in the dark and quiet of deep Autumn's dying down. Life begins with a spark in the darkness, a desire to become, to form, to change...to be.