Thursday, August 26, 2010

A Pair of Mysteries


Tuesday night, during my Full Moon work, I asked that I be told where I should place my "Thank You" offerings at the next (Harvest) Full Moon. That night I had a very clear and vivid dream, and I am pretty sure that the answer is here, if I could only tease it out.

I was sitting in a restaurant, at a long table. Crowded together at
the head of the table were my two daughters, my (deceased)Grandmother and myself. I remember feeling quite impatient and hungry in the dream. Finally, the waitress (who, in "real" life owns the restaurant) brought to the table a single, hard boiled egg. My Grandmother took it and placed it in front of herself, halved it, but didn't eat it. My younger daughter, knowing I was hungry picked it up to pass it to me, but my Grandmother took it from her and said, "It isn't for you" and put it down again at her place.

Eggs, and hard boiled eggs have many symbolic meanings. To most, the clearest meaning of the egg (at least the non-hard boiled variety) is that of fertility. To Jews, and those of Jewish background and learning, it is also a symbol of the sacrifice given at the Temple in Jerusalem. By extension, the hard boiled egg is generalized to be a symbol of sacrifice and also of mourning, because the Temple is no more.

So what is my Grandmother trying to tell me?


How is it that this blog gains readers when I don't post? I'm not complaining, mind you, but it does surprise.

Monday, August 16, 2010

Shielding-An Experiment

It is Renaissance Faire season, and my "home" faire has opened. This means that there is a more or less public place that I shall be at, where I am not habitually shielded. I pretty much go "shields up" every time I leave my home, dropping them only when I have arrived at what feels to me is a safe place. Public spots rarely qualify. My home faire is one of those places, and I've been known to say that my faire day doesn't really start until I've been served my first hard cider and a small child has seen me and said "Look, a witch!"

This past spring, I attended two other faires and had a chance to run a small experiment. At the first one, I dressed identically to the way I've dressed at my home faire. But this one, held on an open college campus, did not say "safe" to me, and so protections stayed in place. I spoke with people, including children. Not one looked at me twice, I was a tourist faire attendee, just as they were, watching the chess match and debating the wisdom of eating a turkey leg.

The second non-home faire was held in a park, although in a somewhat enclosed area. Many of the attendees were familiar to me. I was not wearing my usual attire. I wore bright blue, with a circlet of gold flowers in my hair. But the place felt safe, so the layers of protection came down. And a little girl pointed at me and said "Mommy, a witch!"

I am glad that I do not scare these children when they really see me. But except for those rare and special places, the shields will stay in place.