Initiations; Break-throughs; Change States...

A major, long term magical/psychological experiment has reached it's end.  I've come out the other side and conclusions are being drawn.  And I am shedding like a damned snake.  I've had this happen before, upon going through a doorway at the conclusion of a long term magical project.  I know of other magical workers who have dealt with far worse physical manifestations as they move from one state to another.  I just wish I wasn't so itchy.



Editors note:  I am not using metaphor, this is a very physical reaction I am describing, and it is somewhat disconcerting (and itchy!). 

Yes, I am alive!

I know this blog is practically moribund, blogging just doesn't seem to be part of my life path at the moment.  I did want to mention though, that I will be "doing" the ritual at The Witches Moonlight Masquerade  Ball this Saturday (October 27th).  If anyone reading this in the general area of New Jersey and is on Facebook and is interested in attending, information can be found here:  https://www.facebook.com/events/226430980818301/  (please note, I am not running or administering this event).  Having attended this Ball several times, I can say it is a lot of fun, and the money raised goes toward two worthy charities (one for humans, one for animals).

As for this years ritual; all I can say is, if performing it is anywhere near as interesting as writing it was, it should be a very interesting evening, indeed!

A framed art nouveau depiction of gotterdammerung just fell off my wall, sending shards of glass (more shards of glass than the picture frame had glass originally, I swear) everywhere. What do you think this is a portent of?

What I am reading now

This isn't a review because I am only 1/3 of the way through the book.  I am reading it with a growing sense of glee that such a book exists (and that I didn't have to attempt to write it!) and that Ms. Williams is the author.  (Before they became generally moribund, I had the pleasure of "conversing" with her, courtesy of Yahoo Groups.  I've also found one of her previous books "Ecstatic Ritual, Practical Sex Magic," to be well-written and useful.)

And now, back to happy reading...

Seemed like a good idea at the time...

I am a contrary human being.  All over the world, people are sharing via their computers and the internet.  Political movements are given umph via Twitter and Facebook.  Blogs are being written and posted and auto-published on multiple platforms.  Personal "brands" are being burnished in the ether that is modern communication.  And I have less and less desire to participate.

For those of you might notice these sorts of things, I've removed the Pagan Blog Project widget.  I am just not keeping up with the project.  I thought it would give me the inspiration and the push to write more often, but it has not.  All it has done for me is given me something to do that doesn't get done and a deadline to be surprised by.  And I've been surprised by it every week.  So I've taken the widget off and will not berate myself for not participating.

I am spending more time interacting with actual humans, no keyboard interface needed.  I find that highly satisfying, both for the interaction and because I did do a bit of magic to help bring that about.  And I am always up for meeting new people, especially those of you who would only be new to me in the fleshly sense.  If you want to stop by, I'll put up a pot of tea.

Spring Cleaning

(so, "C" is for "cleaning?"  I have been highly remiss in the blogging, almost as remiss as I've been with the cleaning.)

Dropped a deck of tarot cards.  All the cards landed face down, except for the High Priestess, 2 of Wands and 3 of Cups.  This bodes well for the coming season.  I can live with that.  (maybe, "C" is for "Cards?")

In other spring cleaning news, I dusted 4 stuffed crows, 1 owl, 1 large Bast figure, 2 smaller black dog figures, 4 chicken footed candlesticks and found a new and better home for my silver kalyx. 

What?

Aren't those items on everyone's cleaning lists?

Not really a blog post

Noted this evening; an offering of red wine, poured onto a snow covered offering stone, looks really gruesome.

Belief

"The teenage girl was visiting her grandfather; a revered orthodox rabbi and a leader of his community.
'I don't believe in God' she said, defiantly.
'That's alright, He believes in you' was the rabbi's response."
(I do not remember where I first read this, it may have been on the Aish website.)


“Most witches don’t believe in gods. They know that the gods exist, of course. They even deal with them occasionally. But they don’t believe in them. They know them too well. It would be like believing in the postman.”
― Terry Pratchett, Witches Abroad

Belief is a funny thing.  Especially in American society, we appear to give it high value and want to see it in others, as if a persons ability to believe (and here, we are talking about belief in a Deity of some sort) is a function and proof of a higher morality.  But belief is much like gnosis.  You can have it, you can experience it, but there is no form of proof of such possession.  Any outward behavior that might be taken as manifestation of belief can be faked, at least for a period of time.

And then there is the idea (belief?) that the Gods NEED our belief in them.  Excuse me?  Is it even possible that a more self-centered philosophy could be created?  We may need to believe in order to propitiate a Deity properly, so that we might receive assistance, but that is far different from from the idea that an unbelieved in God dies, or no longer exists.

What do I believe in?  Here is where I am tempted to quote the long passage in American Gods, by Neil Gaiman, where Sam Black Crow tells Shadow all that she is capable of believing in, but it is a long passage (and best heard read by Mr. Gaiman himself) and enumerates only what it is possible for her to believe in, not what she actually believes.  So instead,

I believe I will go make myself a cup of tea.

January 18, 2012

There was a death in the family last week.  My Great-Aunt, my Grandmother's youngest sister.  She had only recently received her diagnosis, with the expectation of her living for another 6 to 9 months.  She wasn't willing to live with the lifestyle changes that would have allowed her that time, though.  So, she waited for her children and her grandchildren to arrive, that she might see them once more.  And then, She Just Stopped.  No assistance, no additional painkillers.  She refused food, but hadn't stopped eating long enough for that to be the cause of death.  Just like her older sister,  life was to be on her terms or not at all.  Have I ever mentioned that I have some scary strong-willed women in my background?

("A" is for Ancestor)

A is for Anat and Altars that Alter Attitude

I have several altars in my home.  Some are permanent, such as my altar to my family and my beloved dead.  They don't change all that often, when I dust and clean them, all the items pretty much always go back into the same exact places.  Caring for them, sitting in front of them, and even just walking past them, these altars remind me of who I am, where I've come from, what grounds me and strengthens me for whatever else I do.

There are the long term, semi permanent altars, such as the one set up for Columbia, Goddess of Freedom and Matron of the capitol city of this nation.  Hers is front and center in my living room, impossible to walk past without seeing, and perhaps thinking "now would be a good time to light some incense to her."  She is not a "personal" goddess for me, but certainly through this political season I will propitiate her and implore her to look after her people and her nation.  Her space is as spare and clear as the family altar is colorful and filled with "stuff."

I have my circle.  Which is a holy place, but not permanently set up for any one specific ritual.

And then, there is the Anat tile.  I posted this picture once before, and I will admit, I was completely surprised by the reaction to it.  I think she is beautiful, not gruesome, as one commentor said.   I am not a Canaanite reconstructionist, I do not worship Her, but She bears an important message to me, and when I need to be reminded of that message, the tile comes out and is set on my desk, where I cannot help but see Her.

(image and tile by the very talented Thalia Took )

The message?  IT DOESN'T ALWAYS HAVE TO BE YOUR BLOOD.

As a wife and a mother, and a healer, this is a lesson I've had to learn over and over again.  My personality inclines me to giving my "all" to those I love, to those I work to heal, to help.  But, you can't give your "all" if you expect to have anything left.  If you have ever taken a CPR certification class, or a Red Cross first aid class, you know that the first rule is protecting yourself; the most important person is the healer, not the injured.  The rule is the same if you are talking emotional or spiritual or psychic support-if you damage yourself, how can you help anyone else?  A hard lesson.  One that I learned the hard way.  And relearned again.  And again.

The tile comes out far less often these days.  Sometimes, all I need to do is think of it, and her.  I am learning.  And, when I need Her, She is there for me.