A New Day

 

As I've said before, the first few days of  any new year have always felt a little fuzzy. Maybe it's the " time out of time " aspect, or the uncertainty of a new beginning.( Yes, I know it's Beltane Eve. Still trying to navigate 2022.)

Maybe it's that these days are drenched with seasonal superstition and ritual. I love all of it and wish it would last just a wee bit longer...but then again, the fact that it's fleeting and impermanent makes it all the more special. I try to pack as much meaning into these few precious days as I can, and I'm not always successful.

Ah, well...we humans often fail with the things we want to hold close. To paraphrase some ancient philosopher whose name escapes me at the moment,  "At first you must be willing to let go of that which you wish to hold onto tightly."

Pandemic not withstanding, the last couple of years have been a miasma of hellishness, especially in the US where I live.I think it's been a much needed eye-opener for all of us here that the image of America we've presented to the world is little more than a mask. We've been deceiving ourselves as to who we really are, and I for one as a citizen am ashamed to admit that we've foisted that image and perpetuated it onto the rest of the world. We can and must do better in the coming year and moving forward. May we spend time exploring our roots in order for the true story of our history to emerge and replace the inventions wrought by colonization at the whim of our ancestors, no matter how painful that may be.

So too, we need to take a hard look at who we are in our Occult/ Pagan/ Witch ?/Whatever-you-prefer-to-call-it community. It's not only about how we identify as individuals, but how we are seen in the wider world. ( And yes, this is an old saw, and yes, I am personally a bit nonplussed by the whole subject because we have beaten this dead horse into dust...and yet...yet...we still have to keep coming back to it because we still have lessons to learn.) In fact, Pathos Pagan just posted an article about this very thing today. It's a timely coincidence and worth reading.

I will be the first to confess that I have a tart tongue and an armory full of snark at the ready and am not afraid to use them when I feel the situation requires that response. Because sometimes the fuckery is such it demands a heaping helping of bitchiness. Like all things, however, experience has taught me when it's necessary and maturity on what and whom to unleash it. At least I'd like to think so, and believe me, I know I've been mistaken.

How we approach one another does matter. It matters individually, it matters in relation to how we're seen by others, and it matters as to the vibration it sets off in the Universe. It affects our energy and  magickal ability- " like begets like" is a very real thing and not just another pap saying. Before being cheapened by New Age clap-trap, the Law of Attraction was and is still a very necessary  element of magick because characteristics of particular types of spellwork are symbiotic. Those who think highly of themselves, who think their snarkiness (online in particular) is proof of  being a superior or clever, gifted being are in for a very hard fall eventually...because it is a universal truth that you reap what you sow. Constantly being a smart ass may favorably impress a few in a particular fish pond on Facebook, but in the larger scheme of things, does that really matter? It's all ego, smoke and mirrors...so let's all try to mind our manners and be a little kinder to each other in our social media discourse.

That's not what I actually wanted this post to be about, but I feel better for getting it out of the way because it's been bothering me.

It's a new day, in a new year. It's a clean slate, a blank journal waiting to be written. And guess what? You and I get to write it.

Annual Sun Wheel Ceremony

 

I think this ceremony is so important that I'm giving over this blog post to the post by Beth Owl's Daughter. Please read it carefully and participate in the weekly ceremony.







https://www.owlsdaughter.com/2021-advent-sun-wreath-ceremony/

Cyper Craft and Curious Seekers

 

Let's face it...we were all new once. We were curious, and maybe not so serious in our early days...or we were overly serious because we felt we had something to prove ( mostly to ourselves). We were newbies, dabbling in the unknown, and damn it was exciting as hell.


We had no earthly idea what we were doing and were afraid of doing anything and screwing up. Or, we plunged in head-long into an occult practice we knew nothing about, but were too arrogant and stupid to admit it.

Yeah, me, too. I didn't know everything then, and I sure as hell don't know it all now. I am still a seeker, still curious, but a lot more cautious because I am much more knowledgeable . We're all students in the Craft. Even the teachers.

At least the majority of us were civil. Sort of. Yeah, I'm old. I think we were much kinder to one another 'back in the day'. Common courtesy seems to be in short supply now. Scoring Brownie points for snark rudeness is in high demand.

I'm not saying the Good Old Days were better because they weren't. We were occult in the truest definition of the word. We kept silent about our practice because in some instances it was actually dangerous to be out of the broom closet. We didn't parade around in our ritual clothing and only a few dared to wear a pentagram or other symbol of the Craft in public. Our spirituality was hidden, and in some places it's prudent to keep our sacred symbols tucked inside the collar now. No, that's not fair, but it's certainly safer.

In America, Raymond Buckland brought Wicca to the edge of the light , but the Craft was still marginalized. There were some notable others, of course. We had individual camps called traditions, and from those practices covens were formed. Scott Cunningham-love him or hate him- can be credited with placing magickal practice into the blinding light of day. His version of Wicca was simple in it's presentation but complex in results. It was unabashedly nature based and very do-it-yourself, and an abhorrence to Euro-centric and Ceremonial Magick traditions. Self-initiation simply wasn't done then and was an affront to the old guard who followed the degree system that took years to achieve. I learned from Cunningham's books, but later joined a traditional coven. Today, as a solitary who occasionally yearns for the fellowship of group worship, I land somewhere in the middle of the road.

Enter the Internet. In the early days there were a few groups on Juno or AOL which were private difficult to find online. As the Internet grew and social media became the standard, enter the Cyber Witch. We were all over My Space and customized sites like Coven Space. Traditions tightened their organizational models  and created individual websites. In a few key strokes you could find a spell for anything. I'm not saying that's a bad thing. Not at all. Especially where no in person teaching available, it's indispensable...but with discernment, because frankly, there are a lot of "teachers" out there who simply don't have the experience, or the  principles concerning the distinction between right and wrong or good and bad behavior. In the same vein, there are some simply marvelous unknown teachers out there.

My biggest beef with the Internet Craft is the level of nastiness I'm seeing. Personal attacks are openly and flippantly vitriolic. I don't know when smart mouth became a desired characteristic, but it seems to be the basics of certain popular Witches and Big Name Pagans' fan clubs, and it's growing. My opinion, for what its worth, is that it childish and immature, and unworthy of the image of someone publicly representing the Craft. We have enough public relations difficulties without the ego stroking of assholes. You shouldn't be dismissed because you're new to the Craft, or because you're older than dirt. There is something to be said for both. And we need all for the diversity of our chosen spiritual traditions.

And while I'm in crabby mode, I absolutely despise the term Fluffy Bunny. It's demeaning and pejorative because we were all in that spot once. It's unnecessary. Be better. Be more tolerant and helpful in cyberspace to curiosity seekers. Chances are those individuals left a mainstream religious tradition ( e.g., Christianity) because of similar treatment.How sad they came to the Craft and received the same thing.

I don't have a finger on the pulse of the future of the Craft. I just know what isn't working- for me or anyone else. We are capable of being better.

When Did You First Fall In Love With Halloween?

 

When did you first fall in love with Halloween? For me, it was when I was quite young. My grandmother spent $2 on a paper fold-out centerpiece of a haunted house( an exorbitant amount in those days) when I was in second grade. 58 years later, I still have it. It's missing the little picket fence that attached to the front, but over the years I have carefully preserved it and packed it away.



Halloween is my childhood. It's also the holiest day in my personal calendar. I was seven years old when I hung my first Halloween decorations, and since that time I've had a special affinity for the holiday.

Autumn is my favorite time of the year : the colors of changing leaves, cool, crisp mornings, darker nights and the silence that reflects the echo of train whistles and nocturnal animals vocalizations and movements. And the Beloved Dead...

I have always known there was another dimension other than the one I've currently inhabiting. I didn't know what to call it or how to describe it, but I instinctively knew it existed. And I have never been afraid of the Dead. Even as a child I knew that Death was a transition, like stepping through Alice's looking glass. I knew there were spirits that were mischievous- some were down right evil- but the majority of those who have made the transition through the veil mean the living no harm. I still hold with that belief.

I love the folklore, the stories, the myths and the legends that come out of Halloween's past. The history of the holiday, though often not apparent, has formulated our current celebration. I like the idea of giving out treats because in it's own transformed way preserves the tradition of ' souling' ( children going house to house asking for a specially baked cake in exchange for prayers for the departed of the household). I like seeing the costumes, reminiscent of the living dressing up to fool the malevolent dead so no harm came to them). I give to everyone because it's a small way to spread joy and community...and yes, I even give to the kids traditionally too old to be out trick or treating, because whether or not they know it, they've chosen to retain a bit of their childhood when they could be out doing other more destructive things. It's not really about the candy. Maybe they don't know it, but it's something more, something intangible they don't yet understand.

So, a few friends and  I stand on the corner of the main street in our little town and hand out treats as the Trick or Treaters run by, barely containing their excitement of dressing up and shapeshifting into the persona of imaginary beings ( we don't want the possibility of a liability issue with the apartment complex, so we move off the property.) Their excitement is contagious, and at the same time, a bit of child-like wonder rubs off on us. I dress up, too! As dour, serious adults, we need this recharging  of our psyches at least once a year. Later we normally retire for our own gathering to partake of coffee and cake in someone's apartment, for reminiscing about past Halloweens, and those who are no longer with us. It's a bittersweet moment among the evening's gaiety.

Afterward, I retire to my own sacred space to spent time with my own beloved dead. The ritual begins formally, but becomes a time of joyful remembrance and tears, and I am at once grateful that my spiritual tradition allows me to spend time with those who have gone before. I spend time honoring my ancestors, even those I didn't gravitate to when they were alive, even those who abused and traumatized me, because I believe they deserve recognition for their contribution to who I am, and they deserve their due. There are photos of ancestors I never met, who died long before I was born. I don't even know their names. They were relatives of my grandparents and great grandparents, but they are my ancestors just the same. I confess that I spend more time with my own friends and acquaintances who have crossed The Veil. The list grows longer each year as more people pass on. The first few years I'm a bit sad, actually. This year, Sabrina Underwood Hodges-Sabrina the Ink Witch- is among the gathering. Her sudden death is something I never fathomed happening so soon. I wasn't ready to say goodbye, and neither was she. But the human body is fragile, and we're all subject to failure of it's mortality. But ... my heart and head undeniably know we never truly leave this plain, even if we only return for one night...this night, the eve before All Hallows.

My human companions aren't the only spirits invited to visit: I welcome my animal companions, from those of my childhood to the most recent, to spend time with me. I place the ashes of the latest, Kitty Boo, on my ancestor altar, and photos and mementos of others. They were truly my companions ( I no longer refer to animal companions as 'familiars', even those who participated in ritual with me, because  as Uncle Birch pointed out earlier this year, that's the name those who prosecuted witches called them.
( I understand the propensity to want to continue the cultural reference, and if you wish to do so, that is your choice, just as it is my choice to stop doing so.With me it's just a personal fine point, so, no judgement;  I don't have a problem with incorporating changes as our Craft evolves.)

So, as I dust off my pointy hat, I wish you prosperity and peace and a bountiful harvest of whatever you need. Happy Halloween, and a Blessed Samhain!

Whispering Leaves

 

"Autumn is an artist who uses an oak leaf to paint a masterpiece"
                                                 ~ William Allen Ward


We sit at the edge of the Veil, leaves of every color dancing round in circles at our feet, a crisp nip in the air in the morning, the sun rising up later and lower each day.

It is finally my favorite time of year. I don't mind wearing a jacket when I go to town to shop: you can always take it off if you get too warm while doing errands, but you can only remove so much clothing to stay cooler in the heat of Summer.

I have said before that I am not a Summer person. No matter how much or how thickly I slather on sun block, I turn a bright, painful pink within the hour and feel like I'm frying-because I am. No tanning for this redhead! Thankfully I no longer freckle, but subsequent sun burns has left me with  a pesky spot or two of pre-cancerous skin lesions that have amounted to little more than a bother. Still, I am careful.


I love the dusky smell of fallen leaves that have turned crunchy, and damn it all, I do like the combination of ingredients that make up Pumpkin Spice. Not the commercial stuff : the blend of cinnamon, nutmeg, allspice and ginger that you grind into fiery dust with  a mortar and pestal and use to flavor pies and quick bread. Mix a little in with ground coffee and make your own version of what cost $5.00 a cup at Starbucks. It's fresher, and the shot of spice will surprise you.

That same mixture can be sprinkled around your house, or stuffed in a sachet or used to dress a candle, because those spices ( sometimes along with mace and cloves) are protective. The afore mentioned spices all correspond to the element of fire and deities called upon for safeguarding home and hearth.

Mainstream healthcare finally acknowledges the bioactive and healing  properties  herbalists have known since antiquity. Herbs and spices like rosemary, sage, thyme and spices such as cinnamon, cloves, coriander, nutmeg, ginger, tumeric and mace (among others) are now being recognized for their polyphenol content ( Read up on it yourself, it's too complicated to list here. It's a rabbit hole, but you'll learn something if you do.) Ah, Science...

Back to those Autumn leaves that we love...

Did you know that the changing colors are a form of chromatherapy? The therapeutic use of color and light to balance the body's energy and vibration has been used for centuries. The vibrant colors of Autumn are a natural expression of this alternative form of healing... and it's free! Take a walk in the park or the woods among the varieties of colored leaves and see if it doesn't leave you revitalized and ultimately happier! The use of color has long been used to elevate mood and relieve anxiety.

We finally come to the part about the whispering leaves. The clamoring of leaves and branches in a soft breeze create "white noise" : the frequency of sound masks other distractions and leads to relaxation, much as the sound of rain, the ocean, and other sounds of Nature. ( And although I'm using the term "white noise" broadly here, frequencies of sound are actually matched to colors of light; for example, the sound of rain is technically  considered as "pink noise" by auditory experts-which I most certainly am not. You don't need to be an expert to understand the science/theory on a very basic level..)

If you have any thoughts on the Autumnal season, I'd love to hear them in the comments.

Your Path, My Path

Like many of you, I am tired of , for lack of a better term, "witch wars". Likewise the haughty attitude of  "My tradition/magick is better, stronger, more worthy, more authentic, more _______( fill in the blank)."


ARGGGH!!!! That was me screaming in frustration because I thought we'd been over this a few thousand times at least.

Just stop it. Stop it now. We have better things to do than to spew hatred and negativity at each other.

Don't we get enough of that from those outside the Craft and NeoPaganism who don't understand what we do? Isn't it enough we aren't taken seriously by the majority of society? Leave.Other. People Alone. The continual bickering and backbiting looks bad and makes all of us appear ridiculous. Stop the damn in-fighting on Facebook, Tik Tok, and Twitter. It makes us no better that the Christians some of us love to mock. No one tradition, occult/magickal or otherwise is right for everyone; each contain a grain of Truth. 

Social Media is filled with Witches, Pagans and other occult/magickal practitioners lecturing, degrading and 'correcting' each other of perceived and imagined gaffs in methods, techniques, beliefs and other faux pas regarding particular traditions or practices.  I was formally initiated into a Gardnerian coven, so yes, I am well aware of magickal groups having "rules" and a belief system to follow. I also am aware that for the serious and experienced, those rules and beliefs are , unbreakable and static. What it is is what it is, and unyielding to change.This is what you do, and how you do it; there are steps to follow because that's how it's done because it works. I'm not disagreeing with that if that is your tradition, and that is how you practice, then that is right and correct for you.

Others have a more eclectic approach, picking from a variety of sources and traditions which meets their needs and suits their intentions because they get results - and that is right and correct for them..


You may not agree with their practice and think it's scatter-shot or appropriation, or whatever popular term is currently in vogue to express your level of personal outrage. That's fine, too. You get to be upset about what you perceive as bastardization of your sacred rites and tradition, and you get to express that outrage as much or as little as you see fit. But what you don't get to do is condemn anyone else for doing what works for them because however you feel about it, you are only a self-appointed expert. You may think that as a follower of a particular spiritual practice or tradition that you  know the character or nature of a deity, but you are not that deity, and I suspect the majority of those deities can and will speak up for themselves without any of us mere mortals putting in our puny two cents worth to someone causing them offense. Bellyaching is a waste of precious energy and time unless you like hearing yourself talk, talking down to the next person doesn't make you superior, it makes you sound like an ass. While it's perfectly acceptable to say, " I disagree and I believe in doing it this way", it's not okay to tell the other guy he's going to be damned by the gods ...because YOU might just end up reaping the result of your vitriol. I'm of the mind to let the gods handle it. We learn from our mistakes.

Everyone of us have a different understanding of worship. Everyone of us has an individual concept of how things are or should be.That is what is right and true for the individual. Each of us have developed a personal practice, whether a seasoned devotee or newbie. For what it's worth ( and because it's my blog), my opinion is that an individual's pure intention is more pleasing to the Divine than a few gaffs or false starts, or faltering on the fine points. You may disagree, and you may say so...but you don't get to bitch about my way of doing things because the ultimate truth is that everything we do, in all of our traditions and practices, originates from Mystery. I've heard the simple statement that we all draw from the same well, and for the most part, I believe that to be true because my experience is that all  occult practices stem from The Unknown. Poisoning that well with hatred and negativity negates the work of the Greater Good, and it's a fact they you often die from poisoned water.

My way of the Craft, how I form it, how I practice my spirituality, is between me and the Divine. What I do to get the results I need to have my needs met, are strictly up to me. If I screw up, well...that's on me. I do what I believe is right because it feels right for me. You do the same. I may not agree with your methods or beliefs, but if it benefits you, then that's all there is to it. To be frank, your opinion of what others do doesn't matter. And neither does mine.

Last year Witchdoctor Utu published a book about Harriett "Moma Moses" Tubman and the role conjure played in the Underground Railroad. Utu, who is the founder of the Niagara Voodoo Shrine, was vilified by of armchair voodoo and hoodoo experts for 'appropriation' of African spiritual traditions. These haters forgot one very important point in their criticism - that few direct lines to the traditions of years gone by exist and that what we now do is reconstruction from history, oral tradition, and myths. Our spiritual practices consist of an amalgamation, a blending, of beliefs.

Seriously, folks...let's go easy one each other. Yes, I do think there's a lot of silliness and grandstanding and bullshit, but there always has been and that's not going to change anytime soon. Go on about your business, do what you do, and give one another space to be who they are.

May the Path you're on be blessed.

Confused?

 There's a bit of a situation going on with the name of this blog and a new Facebook community calling itself Broom With A View.

To be clear, this blog, has been in place as Broom With A View for 10+ years with 10,000 monthly hits globally. To say I am humbled to have readership in places around the world as far reaching as Australia, China, New Zealand, England, Ireland and the Ukraine. That is beyond my wildest imagination, and I am grateful for each of you.

This blog is not affiliated in any way with the Broom With A View community on Facebook created by Witchemy.com.


I have contacted the owner/creator of that page/community and we are currently working things out.


There is no harm intended by the other page; no one is stealing content, etc., as some readers have assumed.Thank you for contacting me. This is not like the situation last year where 140 posts were maliciously stolen and claimed as original by another site when I took legal action to have them taken down. I believe this new situation is an innocent mistake that does not require reporting to Facebook or Google. Like I said, we're working things out. Sometimes FB and Google analytics don't work for name approvals when searching and there is a geographical error.. Things slip through the cracks.


Thank You for your concern and loyalty, and may you Be Blessed.

Standing On The Edge

Usually at this time of year I write a post about hearing and feeling the Veil opening...well, not this year. The Veil has been open since Spring, and there was no gentle thrumming or humming. The sound was more like the renting of fabric as thousands crossed in a long line, their faces worn, bodies exhausted by the long battle with COVID-19. Mothers, fathers, grandparents, children...and so many healthcare workers. Every loved one reduced to a haggard shade of humanity.

How could this have happened? Human nature made us desperately search for something or someone to blame.  Thousands dying of a modern Plague, alone, unable to say goodbye through their drug-induced coma, many before their time, their loved one terrified to touch or kiss them in their final moments, a nurse or doctor providing solace.

Through the earlier part of this year we've been weighed down not only by helplessness and grief, but anger. A pall of negativity spread over communities thrown into week after week of mourning. Those of us fearful of the possibility of bring this Plague into our home follow the guideline of common sense: wash your hands, wear a face covering, only go out when necessary, otherwise stay at home. Every little cough or sneeze being suspect, we panic and brace for the worst.

Our world has been thrown off kilter to tilt toward a dark unknown. We gnash our teeth when our favorite coffee spot is closed, when we have to keep six feet or more apart, when our routine is interrupted by uncertain governmental warnings, by ridiculous, irrational  political theater, by armchair Facebook experts and the loss of normalcy.

In the blink of an eye and less time it takes to catch our breath, our comfortable routine, our normalcy, is gone. Gone. If anything like normal ever returns, it will be a new "normal". And it will take some getting used to.

Meanwhile, our metaphysical communities, occult practitioners, seers, sages, psychics, healers, light workers are all thrown into a type of vertigo. The Unknown, the Mysterious, whatever and from wherever we draw our power, is fuzzy and scattered. It takes every ounce of strength and focus we have to work our craft. But we persevere.

We're learning new ways to virtually gather online because it's important to keep in touch. We hunger for a word of encouragement and kindness from those familiar to us...even if it is on Zoom.

The single constant we have is the natural world. Despite our planet having it's own share of affliction heaped upon it by selfish mortals, we are still welcomed to walk or meditate in the outdoors, to fill our lungs and ourselves with sun and air. The Earth, our Mother, no matter how we abuse her, still loves us.
Bare feet on naked soil still grounds us, and we are invigorated. Watching deer and birds in the wild during these autumnal days reminds us that we are not alone. We share this world with others who keep the spark of life inside. Even more, we are, as the futuristic thinker Buckminister Fuller said,                 " Passengers  of  Spaceship Earth". All of us are on a journey. That's hard to remember when surrounded by so much gloom and doom. It's hard to be an enthusiastic traveler in these times.

Those of us engaged in Earth-centered spirituality see Death and dying differently. Our worldview is that of Death as transition, a natural part of the cycle of Life. Death is not in and of itself an ending, but linked to regeneration and rebirth. If Life is truly a loop ( and we have seen proof it is) then it is much easier to accept Death, painful as the separation may be, as temporary.

The Wheel of Life and the Wheel of the Year turn in a parallel unity. As we loose friends, family and loved ones to this modern Plague, it is wise to remember that they pass from this life into the Realm of the Ancestors. Our Ancestors are always with us, but especially at this time of year. A practice I've adopted is a ritual to let those who die suddenly go with love, with their memory keep in my heart. Letting go is a gift...yes, I said gift. Their existence in my life, sharing our humanity together, even if that relationship is difficult, gives me a new understanding and expression of who I am. But enough waxing poetic for now.

We welcome the Ancestors, new and old, everyday, but especially as we approach Samhain, the Final Harvest. We stand on the edge of the place of passage, where the Veil opens, and welcome those who have crossed with love and compassion. Each of us have our own personal rituals and ceremonies. I'd like to hear about them if you're willing to share.
 

Interrupted

There is nothing I hate more than being interrupted. But...such are the ways of life...

I am a creature of discipline. I like routine, and I'm set in my ways. I don't like change. Having said all that...I'm ready for some change.

Like many of you, I've been staying safely at home trying to avoid our modern version of the Plague ( Novel Covid-19, like I have to tell you). And to be honest...I'm not going stir crazy. I'm an introvert. I like my privacy and work well being alone. There are plenty of things to do at home and I am perfectly content doing them.

And...I rescued a cat. His name is Charlie, and he's a handful. He's a tomcat, and since he's been out on his own, he thinks he's a badass. More on him later.

I am committed to moving to a new area a little south of where I currently live by Autumn. I'll still be in the mountains in a small town, but not as isolated and remote. It's larger than the tiny town I currently reside in, but there is a lot more opportunity and I think the charge will be positive. The place I'm currently living answered to my needs at the time, and it's been an experience I don't regret, but it's time for a change. It used to be home; now it's just a place to live. I still love my little apartment which has been home for nearly eight years, but...things are different here.

I'm different, too. The combination has made me dissatisfied and uncomfortable, and it affects my mood and my ability to concentrate, which in turn affects my ability to connect with the Divine...all of this has brought back bouts of depression I've been dealing with all of my life, to the extent that it has even affected writing this blog. It's not that I have writer's block; there are plenty of ideas swirling around in my head. The problem is that I haven't felt like writing... or anything else, to be honest. I've been told by friends who deal with a similar form of depression that it gets better if you give it time. I think they're right, but waiting to reach that place has been hard.

But...here I am. I'm grateful for those of you who have stuck with me, who have been asking about the blog, and who have been patiently waiting for me to sit down at the keyboard again. ( I do post at the blog's Facebook page regularly, and I keep in touch with a number of people on my personal page.)

Meanwhile...a few loose ends:

I've gotten a moderate amount of email asking what to do with our problematic President here in the US. My answer is simple: VOTE him and his associates out of office. I'm not going on a political rant about him right now because I frankly don't have the energy. Just VOTE  on November 3rd. Four more years of the Orange Shitgibbon will absolutely guarantee you and I will not only not have the freedom to practice our personal spirituality, we could very well be imprisoned for it if the Dominionist Christian Cult gets it's way. I'm not advocating for any candidate, but please, please, VOTE your conscience for the good of humanity. Until then, I personally am focusing on sending Trump's negativity and ugliness back to him. Since he will never own it himself, I am sending it back to own HIM. I refuse to put energy into cursing this idiot, as he's doing an excellent job of doing that tom himself.

Covid-19: Response has been confusing as how to respond and what to do, but the basics are still hand washing, staying in as much as you can, and wearing a mask when you go out. Save the excuses, be a decent human being and just wear the damn mask. Believe me, it beats the alternative.

Even though it's been moved off the stove to the back burner, Climate Change is still very real. Our fragile Earth is suffering at the hands of ignorance and greed. Do what you can in your own little part of the world to help in sustainable ways. A little goes a long way. 

If you're interested in Southern Hoodoo, my friend Carolina Dean has begun a video series on YouTube. Look him up! His engaging personality will charm you.

Like many during the lockdown, Sabrina the Ink Witch and her partner, Tina,are struggling to keep their store afloat. Enchantations has become a community gathering place for Witches and Pagans in the South Bay area in California. If you have a few dollars to spare, consider helping them out at their Go Fund Me.

The always provocative Christian Day and his husband, Alexandria High Priest Brian Cain are offering a variety of online classes through their shops, Hex and Omen. Classes feature presenters such as Utu Witchdoctor and Michael Correll ( Uncle Birch from Widdershins). Sign up at Hex websites or on Facebook.

Finally, if you need a positive way to relax and learn about history and culture, I highly recommend the Pro Walks series on YouTube. My personal favorites are the Roman Forum, and the Path of the Gods. If you've never seen any ProWalks videos, they are first person hikes around popular historical and cultural areas throughout the world at ground level, just like you are doing the hike yourself, but from the comfort of your own home. They're wonderful for meditation and relaxing.

And so...here we are at the end of this post. I'm going to be working on the layout of the blog in the next week and putting up new posts ( which I hope to make weekly). Bright Blessings of the MidSummer to you.

Snakes, Oh My !

There's a theory that totem animals come from deep in the individual's subconscious, that something filters up through a repressed part of our mind to represent us. I'm not going to pretend I know the answer because I'm still working on understanding my spirit allies and where they fit in who I am becoming.

A few years back I began resonating with Hare. What came to me from this association was a deeper connection with the Earth and my own instincts. A popular association with the hare or rabbit is sexual, but this has never been the message I've gotten from Hare. It has always been about connecting to the Earth and my own inner wisdom; I'm still exploring that connection.

Most recently Snake has come to me. Snake strikes fear in many individuals, but I've never felt one way or the other about the creature. I think they're fascinating and beautiful, but I've never had any real connection to Snake until Rick Springfield came out with a CD titled The Snake King. I'm a lifelong fan, but I'm not obsessed with the guy, and I've never been a camp follower. (I got over the fan girl thing years ago, even though I was featured in a documentary about his relationship to his fan base.) I think he still makes some great music and I can relate to the meaning in his more personal songs. The Snake King has a bluesy vibe and a link to the dark side expressed by a character called The Snake King who's an amalgamation of voodoo's Baron Samedi ( Springfield does, in fact, own a suit coat with an image of the Baron on the back that predates the album, so I suspect he's versed in his meaning) Satan, and other taboo characters including a depression riddled part of Springfield himself. All these characters tell a story throughout the album, and there are actually some upbeat tunes that are ear worm worthy...but this is not an album review, so I'll move on. Back to the Snake King and how he introduced Snake to me as a spirit ally...

Snake often travels undercover in places the sunlight doesn't reach: in rocky outcrops, under the leafy forest floor, high among the canopy of trees, underground in holes....places of deep indwelling. The Place of Deep Indwelling is a reoccurring theme with me, especially during the dark Winter months when I settle in to study my Craft and explore my inner being. It would not be an odd occurrence for Snake to come to me under these circumstances, for snakes have an aversion to the cold. Snake appearing in the Place of Deep InDwelling is actually quite natural because he is a figure of renewal and the nature of rebirth. Snake hatches from an egg, sheds his skin in order to grow, and sleeps in a coil - birth, growth and the Divine Spiral. He's a creature of Earth, and among my totems, a natural to spiritually connect to the Earth.

Snake also connects to my Celtic heritage that incorporates spirals and coils, and serpents. The opposite side of Snake's character is that he is a healer of body and soul: shedding one's skin  (transformation) represents freedom from the burden we must let go of in order to move forward and grow. Snake is symbolic of the cycle of life and death.

There was a period of painful transformation in my life that lasted several years that I would have never foreseen as happening the way it did, a shedding of who I thought I was, of my comfortably self-perceived position in society. I lost my job and my wonderfully delightful apartment and moved from the place I grew up in and had lived for the first 40+ years of my life and was briefly homeless and adrift. Thankfully I was never out on the street, but I had no money and no permanent place to live. Friends kept the material possessions most important to me while I explored this phase of life and shed layers upon layers of parental and societal conditioning until I finally became someone I felt comfortable with being. Then I came out of the darkness, realizing that I had been forced to leave the place I was so afraid of leaving. I am by no means fearless now, but I am a lot less fearful of loss in a way understood through deep personal examination and a Buddhist-like understanding of attachment.

Then Snake appeared, as they often do, coming out from the dark place to bask in the warm and light.This is my relationship with Snake currently. I respectfully acknowledge it could change again, but right now, things are comfortable and stable. Life is not so bad, and Snake and Hare hang around just make sure I stay connected and awake. The Snake King ( the album and the archetype) keep me thinking about life, society and culture : our currently crappy political situation and what has brought us here, knowing what my personal appetites are and how they help and harm me, and my relationship to the gods. It's not a bad relationship, and I an kinda grateful for the bad stuff because it makes me appreciate the good things when they come around.

Meanwhile....I need to get back to a settled spiritual practice. I have allowed mine to fall away while I sit comfortably with my cup of hot tea and the distraction of reading. It's past Imbolc and the light is beckoning me from the Place of Deep InDwelling to the Place of Joyful Being. I am shedding the skin of last Winter and my new one, though still tender and a little raw from the old one being torn away, holds the possibility for something beautiful.

*******************************************************************************
A bit of lavender added to my sage stick, and the apartment gets a good smudging, followed by a wash down with the citrus and orange, cinnamon and spice of Florida water, to clear out the old and make way for a higher, more positive vibration. How do you get unstuck after the long nights of Winter?

Everyday Pagan

January always feels a little light and wispy; it's early days confused and lacking substance. Perhaps it's because it's the beginning of a new calendar year. Perhaps it's the hangover from December's many festivals. Christmas, in particular, means less to me as the years go by and any loyalty to a Christian tradition fades. The rampant commercialism has all but killed any spiritual feeling I once had; meanwhile, Yule and Winter Solstice means more, perhaps this year in particular because my ritual partner Lois transitioned across the Veil unexpectedly in early September. We introduced several successful Winter Solstice rituals to the Raleigh, NC area while she was attending seminary and the early years of her interfaith ministry. This year felt a bit hollow and lonesome. I over decorated in my grief and over-compensated with holiday merriment that left me feeling numb and lost.

Somewhere in all of this January slid quietly into place. Everything feels a bit off. At the first Full Moon of the year, one which many Pagans revere as the strongest and most magical, I begged off with a quiet prayer to the Goddess as I drifted off to sleep. Soon it will be Imbolc and the Feast of Brigid, my main patron. I made my dedication and was initiated at Imbolc to Pagan spirituality after studying a year and a day. In reality I had been Pagan much longer, but I needed this formality to feel legitimate in my own mind.

I  know in the deepest parts of my soul that I cannot, will not ever go back to being a Christian. I have no argument with Christ's teachings: it's the overbearing arrogance of the majority of his devotees who to profess to follow him, those who create him in their own image to justify greed and animosity toward those who do not meet their standard of religious expression whom I roundly reject. I attended an education for ministry program for nearly a decade, earning several post graduate degrees in the process, and much to my chagrin am sorrily disappointed in those who claim to follow the Nazarene. I have a new understanding of the quote attributed to Gandhi: " I very much like your Christ, but not so much his followers". I still wonder how these folks can claim the love and beauty of Jesus' message and claim to worship him while disparaging the rest of humanity. This was not Jesus' way, in fact the most negative thing he had to say was to tell his Apostles to shake the dust off their feet and leave nonbelievers in peace.

That's folks like you and I. We have our own Beloved Community, no matter how loosely we are organized or how much we pick at scabs. We are a part of the vast Other that includes Buddhists, Hindi, many Asian religions, Humanists, Atheists and even in some cases a few fringe pseudo Christian sects like Jehovah's Witnesses and Mormons. I'm sure I've forgotten to include more, but these are the ones that presently come to mind. The point is there are more of us than them, and according to polls from the Pew Foundation, even more who profess no affiliation with any religious tradition at all. I'm sure this is the driving force behind the pissy attitude of the Dominionist Christian Cult which is attempting to turn the United States into a theocracy.( But more about them in another post.)

Still, I am searching for a definitive to the question of what makes me, and maybe you, an Everyday Pagan. Perhaps the answer escapes me because I have been Pagan for so long that it is second nature and I am so attuned to looking to Nature for answers that it is my norm. I use oracles everyday to explain what is taking place in my world; I research the stories of the Goddesses and Gods of old for applications relevant to modern day life. I see occasions for creating little rituals everywhere, and live a life of gratitude ( even if I do have to remind myself what to be grateful for on some occasions!) None of this makes me feel particularly blessed or special in the scheme of things, and none, to my mind, at least, make me particularly Pagan.

I do not go about in ritual robes with pentagrams or other occult symbols hanging from my body, I do not dress in witchy black clothing a la Stevie Nicks. Nothing makes me standout physically as a Pagan. Yes, I do have a few crystals scattered around my apartment, and a bit of esoteric artwork, which has more to do with my personal taste than my spiritual leanings.

But I am still an Everyday Pagan. I hear the voices of my ancestors; I see signs in Nature; I feel the presence of the spirits of the land and spirits of place, and I follow the wisdom of the stories of the multitudes of Gods of Old; I am in awe of the Feminine Divine that exists within me, and I resonate with others who share my convictions. I connect with the Earth and am overwhelmed by the beauty of the Universe. History, Mystery and Jung's Collective Unconscious are my most important teachers. I practice my spirituality without man made dogmas or taboos, I bow to no other human, although there are a few I deeply respect. Life is simply what it is, and the beauty of it appears in the strangest of places. Magick is everywhere.

Perhaps that's the answer: being free of religious restraints and listening to the wisdom around me, and that that comes from within. I firmly believe that we create our own salvation when we need it, otherwise we are pretty okay just as we are. No one needs to forgive us unless we ask for a boon or a blessing from a particular Deity of our choosing ( or whom we feel has chosen us). Our dealings and relationship with the Divine is individual and unique and not subject to review by others. It is our responsibility to create and build upon that relationship with the Sacred.

I will still look for those things that define being an Everyday Pagan and I suspect that search will be never ending. I love this journey, even it's occasional hiccups and bumps. If you have any other feelings you'd like to share about what makes you an Everyday Pagan, I'd love to hear from you and appreciate the courage it takes to share. Leave a few words in the comments at the end of this post.

Be well and be blessed,
AmethJera

At The Border Of Summer's End

Summer has been a season of loss. Friends have lost husbands, wives, fathers and mothers, companion animals, and time has marched on.

Despite this, the Veil has been slow to open this year. Friends have noticed the same. What is amiss? Usually I am sensitive to the subtle thrumming as the space between this world and the next thins; this year there has been nothing. Not a single sign of the impending opening that the changing seasons herald. It's hard to miss, and I don't think I have.

Which means...it's waiting, suspended in the corner of the room like a spider, quietly waiting for the right moment. And I shudder a little.

What can be the cause? Are the crazed apocalyptic prophets finally right? I very much doubt it, although I do wonder if there is something of cataclysmic proportions about to take place. I have an inkling, and I hope I am wrong.

Divining the future by a variety of tools and methods have brought no solid answer.And so I return to watching the seasons change.

As I write this it is still Autumn,in fact, it's the day after Thanksgiving. We've had high winds the last couple of days, so the most stubborned of dried leaves have come down, and the ground is covered with a crunchy carpet of detritus.My favorite place to walk under these conditions (any conditions,really) is the local grave yard.

We have a huge graveyard ( 11.5 acres) just on the edge of town; it is a gift from the coal company that mined this area in a bygone era, primarily to bury the unfortunate victims of several mine disasters. It is a unique place due to burial arrangement; most 19th century burying ground were laid out in sections exclusive to ethnicity and social status, but not here. The Irish silently spend eternity next to those of Russian ancestry; Greek Orthodox share space with Southern Baptist, Roman Catholics and those holding no religious belief. The sole mausoleum, presumably belonging to a wealthy family, sits squarely in an area of Hungarian and Polish immigrants. There are more townspeople occupying the cemetery than registered voters. It's a humbling thing to ponder: do we the living rule this quiet little town, or do the beloved dead? So far the cemetery population outnumbers townspeople three to one.

Although it has now fallen to steady decay, this graveyard was built with the intention of many 19th century cemeteries, that is, as a place to while away the hours in a planned park-like place. Most of the winding paths are paved, there are marble steps leading up and down the hills, a boat pond, and a small outdoor chapel. There used to be picnic tables and benches, and all that's left of the chapel are foundation markers; the grass is rather tall in spots, and the woods have encroached upon some sections. Intentional plantings of yucca have spread beyond their beds, and quite a few of the older headstones have broken, some crumbling to dust.

It is the perfect place to walk on a cloudy day in late Autumn: it feels right and not morbid. It feels right to shuffle along the paths covered with dead leaves, crows and songbirds vocalizing along with the whistling wind. It is good and old and comforting. It is a place between the worlds, mysterious and wild and yet serene.

I love walking in these sacred places so much that I always include a local cemetery in my travel plans. You learn a lot about a place by how they keep their burying grounds and honor their dead. And I'm please to know that my weird little hobby has gained in popularity in the last few years. so there is now an international  tribe of us plodding through the resting places of the ancestors [https://www.yahoo.com/lifestyle/why-always-visit-cemeteries-while-143101095.html] .

Yule and Christmas loom large before us as these few solemn days of Autumn dwindle down to a treasured few. I entered the Place of Deep In-Dwelling several weeks ago; hunkering down with a cup of hot tea and good book, surrounded by candles and quiet music. It's a respite from the norm, and a chance to recharge before the Winter festivities burst forth clothed in glitz and glitter.  As much as I do love the gaiety of the seasonal celebrations. I am thankful for these few quiet days spent remembering those who have left this earthly plane for a new home across the Veil, to recall the sound of voices stilled until we meet again.

Autumn Musing / Thoughts of Samhaim

***“Delicious Autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the Earth seeking successive Autumns.”~ George Elliott

Ah,yes…the period that you and I love, the time we love as witches and Pagans,
those few weeks and days just before Samhain and the beginning of the Celtic New Year.
That time when the leaves gain their brightest colors, then fade and fall to the ground.
What a stunning metaphor for living and dying.

***“Autumn is the season to find contentment at home by paying attention to what we already have.”
~unknown

Several years ago I took to calling this time of year the Time of Deep Indwelling,
because indeed, this is what it is: crisp evenings to settle in with a hot cup of tea or chocolate,
light the candles, and gather yourself close. It is a time to warm both body and soul, and to turn inward.
A tiny black and white plaque hangs in my kitchen that states: Gratitude turns what we have into enough. It is my current personal mantra,
and I try to live it out everyday, especially as I get older.

***“ And the sun took a step back, the leaves lulled themselves to sleep and Autumn was awakened”~ Raquel Franco

I had to think this one through because there is a lot going on in those few simple words.
I have come to the conclusion that this quote is quite brilliant in its description of Samhain.
The sun is lower in the sky, the trees begin their cycle of rest before regeneration,
but there is a last burst of glory and celebration of Life before preparing for the new life to come.
I framed this quote in terms of the end of life just before transitioning across the veil, and it fits perfectly.

***“ Wild is the music of the autumnal winds among the faded woods:~ William Wordsworth

If you have ever spent time in the woods after the branches have been laid bare
and listened to their clacking in the wind, they sound a bit like the clattering of old bones.
After they have shed their leaves they are quite naked, stripped down, as it were, to their skeletons.
Autumn is full of metaphors for death, and this one is a favorite of mine because it so beautifully illustrates
the Dance Macabre.

***“ I hope I can be the autumn leaf, who looked at the sky and lived. And when it was time to leave, gracefully it knew life was a gift”~ Dodinsky

I don’t think I am owed an easy pass when it’s my time to transition to the next life,
but like all of my fellow humans, I would prefer to go easy and without suffering.
That has already happened once, a few years ago, when I simply faded to black after an embolism.
I remember peacefully going to sleep. I hope for that same experience when it is
my actual time to go after a life well lived.

***“ The father we’ve gotten from the magic and mystery of our past, the more we’ve come to need Halloween.”~ Paula Curan

To me, this beautifully explains that feeling many of us have had since childhood,
when we knew our very soul resonated with something wonderful and old,
something tucked far back in our personal history that we couldn’t name or quite grasp,
yet we knew came to light within us during the autumn harvest.
It is why we thrilled to see the shocks of corn in the field, the faces of spirits carved in Jack O’Lanterns
that we welcomed as friends, the knowledge that something or someone from the past swept over us.
Weird little kids like us needed Halloween – not the candy or parties,
but the very act of dressing up as something Other and going about in the forbidden night with
the kindred spirits we knew walked the Earth that night.
I still take a few minutes every Halloween night to go outside alone in the darkness and
just stand there while the spirit ancestors walk around me.
It’s usually the time I take a small plate of food out for the Dead or wild animals or
whomever comes to refresh
themselves from its essence, or nourish their bodies from my offering.
That moment brings me back into myself and reminds me who I am and my place in the grandness of Living.

I hope you have a wonderful, magickal Halloween, and a Samhain
that connects you not only with your ancestors, but your soul.
Be well and blessed with an abundance of joy and gratitude this night and
every night as the Wheel of the Year once again turns and leads you home.

All Is Well, And All Is Well

Summer officially ended here last week, as it did in the rest of the Northern Hemisphere, but more importantly- to me, at least- Autumn began.  Autumn is MY season, when  the night air turns chilly and there is a whisp of wood smoke in the air, and the leaves stripe the mountains with bands of color. Dusk comes sooner as the sun dips down behind those same mountains, and the night creatures cautiously come out : a cloud of little brown bats swoop and dance, squeeking in delight as they chase insects; the locusts ( foks in this part of Applachia call them 'cadydids') vocalize a catch and call tune; and deer quietly forrage for fallen acorns.

Life goes on in its own way. To those of us who are a little closer to the Earth and mind the signs of the seasons, it is nearing the final harvest before Winter sets store. We await the opening of the Veil, which for me always begins with a subtle hum and shiver. Death pulls back the curtain many times during the year, but never as wide as when the Beloved Dead cross back into the land of the living for that short yearly period of time at Samhain.

But until then...Life goes on in its own way. Nights are quiet, yet alive with the creatures who thrive under the shadow of darkness. I spend them mosty reading and sipping hot tea, lilting jazz music playing in th background, buried in the stories of others' lives, or learning new things about this spiritual path you and I have chosen.

Or is it more accurate to say we have been chosen by the Mysteries? I sometimes wonder which it is, and always come to the conclusion that it's both. My exploration of the Craft often flows along like a river, and with much the same turbulance, and often obstacles to overcome. But all is well, even in the rough patches. I have been a witch long enough to know how to ride the river-when to hold tight to my raft, and when to just let it wash over me.  Which ever happens...all is well....and there are no coincidences.

There is a reason and meaning for everything, as the song goes. Take for example the lovely rosemary plant I found at the grocery store a couple months ago: I watered it with care, and enjoyed its spunky, piney fragrance for weeks until one morning I was trimming up my window garden and realized it had died seemingly overnight. It sat there brown and shriveled, it's little branches still full and intact. I nearly threw it away in my disappointment, until I realized it would go well in some incense. So I carefully preserved it and put it away for use later. 'Later' came sooner than expected with the death of one of my favorite people. The rosemary I had carefully preseved went into a batch of incense I made up to burn in  her memory. Normally I would have only had a few spoons of rosemary to cook with and would have had to purchased enough for spellwork.

As I ground the herbs, it occurred to me that the little rosemary plant knew its purpose long before I did...and thus the Mystery did provide for a need. In the last few days I have made that same protective funeral incense two more times, in memory of a friend taken by cancer, and for another friend's father who passed away just this afternoon. Usualy I made this particular blend no more than once a year, usually at Samhain. But now...I have made it three times in the space of less than a month, and I will curate another batch to celebrate the crossing of the Veil by the Beloved Dead at the end of October.

It is a simple recipe: 1 part lavendar,1 part rose petals, and two parts rosemary. Grind the ingredients fine by hand, while speaking your intention over the bowl. Add by pinches to a burning charcoal. The incense has a floral, woodsy aroma. You can adjust the ingredients as you like. You can also make an offering oil version with fresh ingredients added to a light carrier oil such as sunflower oil. Let it sit at least a week and strain and shake befoe using.

And so it is...all is well, and all is well.

When A Wizard Comes To Call

Oberon Zell stopped over on his walkabout in March.( Okay, I am still a little stunned to hear myself say that.)  Earlier in the year I was reading his Facebook page, and he mentioned that he was making a walkabout to various festivals and appearances and would be needing lodging to make his way more affordable . It would also give him the opportunity to meet people and make new friends.

I have been an admirer of Oberon and Morning Glory's writing for nearly all of my journey through Paganism. They were there in the beginning with the first legally registered Neo-Pagan Church (Church of All Worlds, or CAW). 

Church of All Worlds is a remarkable concept in spirituality which allows for individual spiritual exploration while providing a like-minded community from all over the United States and the World.
I have used texts from CAW and HOME ( Holy Order of Mother Earth) for many years in my own and public rituals and because of their wonderful diversity and viewpoints that have always worked beautifully. Oberon writes in the congenial voice of a beloved elder...which he most certainly is.

Long story short...I PMed him and offered a place to rest and share a few meals on his journey, and much to my surprise, one day he called. During the conversation, and considering that people have all sorts of dietary preferences these days, I asked what he ate. "Oh, food." he replied mischievously. I swear I could see the twinkle in his eye over the phone.

I am not usually star struck because I have worked as a production assistant in the entertainment business for many years. Celebrities are a unique breed of individuals, and their needs ( and demands!) are equally unique. I have become quite unflappable and immune to the wonderful weirdness that spills over from celebrity....but I was totally tongue tied ( and embarrassed to be so) with the Wizard OZ on the phone. I was gobsmacked that he actually called because my little corner of Southwestern Virginia is rather remote. But call he did and we made arrangements for his visit in late March.

As we don't have too many universally accepted elders in our Pagan community, I am quite honored to have shared my home with a man I consider to be the Father of the Neo-Pagan movement. Hopefully I don't sound too gushy, but it was an absolute thrill to have the unique opportunity to share  the evening with such a charming and knowledgeable man. He is truly a scholar, a treasure trove of history and science...a humble and a wonderful conversationalist, a bawdy trickster, with not a pretentious bone in his body. He is kind and appreciative, and throughout dinner ( at which I served some truly awful wine-sorry!) we plumbed the depths of one another's respective intellect through lively, serious and sometimes silly conversation. What did we talk about? Everything! Mermaids and Paganism, people who are mutual acquaintances, his art work, love, aliens, the Grey School,religion, CAW...and Morning Glory.  Out brief conversation about her was especially poignant for me, as I have always held her as the embodiment of the Goddess. How I wish she could have been at the table with us, but actually, in hindsight, she was. I wish I'd set a place for her.

It was a night to remember, at least for me. Not the last, I hope. The Wizard OZ is a rather enchanting fellow. I am pleased to have been able to have given back just a little to one who has contributed so much to the person and spiritual practitioner I have become.

Bright Blessings, my Friend! There is a light in the window for you, and the door is always open.

Good Journey Home: Rosmary Ellen Guiley Dies

So sad to hear of the sudden passing of beloved author Rosemary Ellen Guiley, a pioneer of paranormal exploration and occult subjects. If you aren't familiar with her work (who isn't?) look her up. The author of too many books to mention her, she also wrote several encyclopedias. I cannot fathom what a huge undertaking that must have been for a single encyclopedia, much less several.

Visit her Facebook page for remembrances from around the world. As we grieve her passing there unfolds a certain beauty in knowing that she's finally found the answers to many of the questions she had about the realms of existence in our universe and beyond. Rosemary now knows the Great Unknown Mysteries.

Hail the Traveler and Good Journey to her as she transitions to the next wonderful life in the Summerland.

A Few Words On Sacred Waters

As a Pisces, I am naturally drawn to the element of water. Running water is among my favorite sounds. I have sat mesmerized by a stream watching the water rush over rocks and carrying leaves downstream. I love all manner of water: the a fore mentioned rushing streams, rivers, ponds, lakes, oceans, and rain. The place I'm most drawn to are spots where the water bubbles up through the aquifer to form what many call a "sacred well".

All water originating from a natural source is sacred. There is no need for it to be blessed by anyone- it has been blessed by the Goddess at the moment of Creation. The act of ritual blessing is a reaffirmation of that original sanctification.

We are born from the depths of our mother's womb in water, and before that at our primordial emergence. I won't argue theology or dogma about the subject, because I believe all the creation stories - most featuring the element of water- are true. I believe they come together, as many of our stories do, each contributing an essential part in our history.

There are few places we can drink the water unfiltered and unprocessed. I mourn for the state of our natural waters, particularly the oceans where so many creatures I consider relatives dwell. Humans have done more unintentionally and through outright denial and ignorance to pollute and defile our precious oceans. We continue to do this, through sheer greed and want of financial gain.To be perfectly honest, I don't have an answer about how to really reverse the damage we've done other than to encourage each of us to do what we can to restore this shared habitat.  You do whatever you can, and I will do what I can by actively and  individually working to  hold these places as unique, special and holy. If that means going down to the local stream once a week and picking up trash and debris, or participating in an organization that focuses on environmental issues through protest or monetary donation...do the work. Then bring it to your altar so the gods can see you are doing the work.

Meanwhile, remember that your purification bath is much more than washing away negativity before ritual...it is a blessing, because water is a sacred thing.

Under Attack

For the last several months I've been battling a form of malware called "Widget Server", which redirects my blog when I sign in. Sometimes...like now...I can beat it to open the page and post, other times I'm blocked accessing my own blog.

It's getting rather old. There are ways to remove it, but I haven't been successful, so I'm currently leaving the page up so I can write and post. Blogger seems to offer no solutions, but frankly, I like the format and don't care for the others I've seen, including Word press. I don't want adds on my blog unless I put them there myself ( occasionally I will post in support of a friend's business).

Malwarebites says the fix ix simple, but so far I haven't been able to fix the problem.

Hang in there, gang. I'm not easily beaten.

The Hare In The Moon

Manitou,the Great Spirit to the Algonquin tribe manifested himself as a hare. Great Hare, also known as White Hare, was thought to live on the Moon ( another version says he lived with his Grandmother, and that she was the moon). Great Hare was visible to his people from earth on the face of the moon and as he looked down over all, he was considered to be the Provider of All Life - water,wind,fire and soil and all that came from them.

Yet in other traditions, Hare was a Trickster figure,wiley,quick and mystical. He is credited with the creation of the Midewiwin, or Grand Medicine Society of the Northeastern native tribes, a secret magical lodge. Their gathering places are in open spaces beneath the moon, or in domed structures which mimic the shape of the moon [ https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Midewiwin].
The hare is associated by most tribal peoples with birth and rebirth (partly due to its relatively short gestational period of 30 days), an auspicious creature sacred to their culture because of its fertility and abundance.
However, not every ancient culture thought so highly of them: the Biblical book of Leviticus called the hare or rabbit "unclean". Others thought the creature so taboo that it was  unlucky to even speak its name. The Greeks of antiquity protected the hare " ...for the sake of Artemis" because it was one of her symbols and therefore refused to hunt it. Superstitions were frequently associated with the hare or rabbit because they were believed to be a common disguise for witches and commonly witches' familiars ( a close second to the black cat). It was purported that the only way to kill a witch who had shape shifted into a hare or rabbit was with a bullet made of silver-the moon's metal. ( Much like the werewolf myth.)
The hare was lucky or unlucky at various times in history, as folk lore associated with them morphed and changed in  public opinion.  During World War I, it became the fashion for loved ones to give a soldier going off to war "a lucky rabbit's foot" ( But not so lucky for the rabbit, eh?) Mothers hung the amulet above their children's beds for protection throughout the night. With this new positive association came the habit of saying " White Rabbits, White Rabbits, a pinch and a punch for the first of the month" ( or variations such as " Rabbit, Rabbit") to wish others good fortune throughout the month.

The Spiritual Meaning of the Blue Porch Ceiling

Haints are the malevolent spirits of the dead trapped between this world and the next.The word haint is a variation of another word-haunt- and comes from the Geechee Gullah language/culture of the South Carolina-Georgia coasts and barrier islands. It's primarily used throughout the old South, although I have heard it occasionally used in New England also. Despite it's muddied origins, it's still understood that a haint is defined as meaning a ghost - but  a type of ghost unlike any other... haints are vengeful, violent... the undisputed mischief makers of the Shadowlands.

Haints are right up there at the top of ghostly entities in the Southern US, and like all apparitions and superstitions, they have an Achilles Heel: they cannot cross water. Short of building a moat around the old homestead, citizens of the Old South  have a much more practical and stylish solution...they paint their doors, window sashes and porch ceilings blue. Not just any blue, but a particular shade that reflects the hue of the sky and water that has become known specifically as Haint Blue. The original paint was made with lime and milk and whatever blue pigment was available, adjusting it until it was a shade they thought matched the sky and water in their area. The idea was to trick the haints into thinking they had come upon water, which they could not cross. A blue porch ceiling served a similar purpose, where the haints would be confused into believing they were flying into the open sky. Therefore, on either account, they did not enter the dwelling and vex the residents with their mischief.

Using the color blue  is a universal  method of deflecting spirits. It's not only used by the Gullah descendants of freed African slaves in the coastal South, but by some Scot Irish in the Appalachians as well. For the mountain dwellers, woad, used in their homelands as a blue dye, was mixed into milk paint and applied to porch ceilings to not only keep out ghosts and malevolent spirits, but the lye added to the paint had an added bonus of keeping out insects as well. Sometimes the ingredients would ferment, which also acted as a natural insecticide.

Nowadays any variation of sky blue, aqua, baby blue, light teal blue or green, or a color representative of  water/sky can be used. The major paint manufacturers all have their own version of haint or porch ceiling blue. It's now up to the tastes of the individual which shade to use to complement the color scheme of their home. It's interesting to note that the shade will darken in the light during the day, following the path of the sun. Sometimes it looks like the sky, and other times a body of water.

Notably, the belief that the color blue repels evil is not limited to the Southern US: in the Western US, turquoise painted doors serves the same purpose, while across the ocean, a stripe of  azure blue was often seen painted across the top of doorways in ancient civilizations. Evidence of this can be seen in Greece and Italy today.