Almost a Comment to Anonymous

I had read the post: To Anonymous-The Culture of Gods on Doing Magic ( http://doingmagick.blogspot.com/ ) and had thought to comment. Happily, though, Jow made many of my points for me. (who knew, prior to the internet that New Jersey could lay claim to the number of thinking magicians that we have?) So, if you haven't read Jows post, here is the link: http://jow-amagesblog.blogspot.com/

Gods are more that we, on this earth, on this plane can ever see, in their totality. That may be why the images of Gods and Goddesses undergo change over the millenia-they don't change, but maybe what humans can see or need to see, or are convinced to see, change.

I happen to disagree with the view of Tammuz/Damuzi as a God. Returning from the Underworld does not mean that you have achieved Godhood. In the case of Damuzi, he would not have left the land of Erishkigal without the help of his sister and the acquiescence of his wife. (of course, if he hadn't pissed off his wife in the first place, he wouldn't have needed help leaving the underworld...) But it may very well be that the victory over death and the ability to return from the underworld is a prerequisite of attaining Godhood.

But Jow is right about the hymns outlining the Courtship of Inanna and Damuzi-definitely material to work on with your loved one. Besides, I've yet to come across anything in the Homeric Hymns that come close to the lines where Inanna admires her own wondrous vulva.
(now why didn't I post some of that for Valentines Day?)

Equinox and Spring

Interesting to think about-the Equinox is about balance, the even amount of light and dark. But it is also the entrance to a new season, in this case Spring. That isn't balance, that's forward motion. I have spent the last month trying to find my balance, to internalize the changes in my life. Now, I am ready for forward motion and action. The need for spring cleaning is strong. Not just housecleaning (although there is plenty of need for that!), but spring cleaning of me.

This past weekend, I had lunch with one of my blogging/Internet friends. I took a long drive on unfamiliar New Jersey highways (am I the only person in New Jersey who does not like to drive?) to have lunch with someone I had never met before. Potentially, the day could have been horrible. But it wasn't. Yes, I was on the road as long as I sat and chatted. Yes, prior to the drive, the idea of doing it scared the crap out of me, but that was one of the reasons that I did it. Lunch was lovely, we will do it again. And, I will make plans to meet and make real friendships out of my Internet relationships. Forward motion.

Its time to take my ritual outside and shake it like a rug to freshen it. Less time to sit and stare at a screen and more time for doing. Forward motion.

Once balance is dynamic and once achieved, if you don't do something with it, you have stasis.

Happy Spring (forward!) Anyone up for lunch?

Why I will never be financially wealthy.

...because of all the "things" in my grandmothers house, the crystal, the silver, the art...all I really want is her rocking chair.

After Winter, Comes Spring

And, after thoughts on death and loss, come thoughts of life, sex and cookies. (and every single time I've used that phrase, DH has added, "but not the Crowley recipe!")

I had planned to write (again? more?) about Purim, which like so many holidays has recent explanations for observances that seem to have existed forever. Even though I did get to the baking, the planning for the writing didn't happen. So for those of you who did not read last years post, I leave you with the link:

http://hearthwitchery.blogspot.com/2008/03/purim-and-hamentashen.html

Oh yeah, one thing I did leave out of last years essay-I make apricot filled hamentashen for my blonde daughter. :-)

May all your noises be joyful ones!

Grief

Grief is a funny thing. If I had been asked whether I would grieve over my Grandmothers death, I would probably have answered "no." I would miss her, of course, but to bemoan the death of someone who reached her late 90's? That would be selfish.

But here I sit, feeling...discombobulated.

I've had a week where concentration has been difficult. Chores and projects lay about the house, in various modes of incompleteness. Writing more than 2 or 3 sentences at a time has only become possible today.

Except for a few stray moments, none of the feelings I've experienced come under the heading of classic grief (and those moments have been overwhelming). Instead, I feel displaced. As if nothing has really changed, but all of creation has taken a teeny step sideways. And, (please excuse the mixing of metaphors) all of the teeth in my gears are not meshing easily with the gears of the rest of creation. They sort of are, but not neatly.

I absolutely can't stand the sensation of not being able to concentrate.