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.

Poised for reset, in three, two, one...

Chanukah is for family.  Christmas is for my husband, DH.  Yule is for friends and community.  But the Solstice, that is for ME.

This year, all of the holidays/occasions seem to happen very closely upon one another, like the Fortuny pleats on a vintage gown.  Two weeks ago, we attended a Jolfest/Blot/Wedding.  Last weekend was my family Chanukah party/family reunion.  This weekend will be Christmas.  Each event requires planning, cleaning, cooking, gift collecting and wrapping (with the exception of the Jolfest/Blot/Wedding, which only required cooking and some planning).  There is also the collecting of daughters from various cities and schools, and the accompanying readjustment to having more people in the house.

And then, tonight there is the Solstice.  In inspiration, Solstice celebrations are close kin to the celebrations of the other holidays, but for me, the observation is very very different.  Today, I will clean the fireplace hearth and lay the wood for a fire.  At the base of the wood will be the chunk of charcoal saved from last Winters fire; after all, last years fire was successful in seeing us through to the return of the sun.  I will also make sure that there is plentiful firewood on the porch to make it easier to keep the fire going all night.  (This year, there is no snow on the ground, but things are awfully soggy.)  At sunset, the fire will be lit. There will be a light dinner (already prepped!).  DH will come home from work and have dinner.  There will be Chanukah candles.  And a quiet evening.  And DH and daughter will go to bed.

I will stay up.

Solstice is the night that I tend the fire; I tend the hearth and the home and wait, in vigil for the return of the sun.  It is a quiet night, just me and sometimes, the cat.  I will read.  I will meditate.  I will scry in the fire and with my drop spindle. (I am not very good as spinning yarn, but I find it a remarkable aid to scrying.)  I will, most likely, trance.  I will eat and drink lightly, and in honor of those Deities Whom I honor.  The night is long, and the house will get cold.  Come dawn, I will go outside and raise a toast to the return of the light and the Spirits of this place.  Then, I will come back inside, bank the fire, and get into bed, to get what sleep I can before the activities of the day begin.

In some Germanic traditions, the night of the Solstice is Mothers Night, sacred most specifically to Frigga.  She, and her handmaidens will check each household to make sure that all household work for the year is finished, and to reward those industrious souls, and perhaps penalize those who have not finished.  It is a very good thing that mothers are forgiving, because there is no way that I could ever be "finished," not when there are so many varied traditions to be honored.  The Solstice is both my "pause" button and my "reset" button in a busy season, at the end of a cycle of time.  The dark and the quiet and the fire feed me and my spirit, so that I can go back into the bright holiday observations with a lighter heart and without a sapping sense of martyrdom to the season.  It allows me that time to contemplate the year that is ending, and the one about to begin.


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On a related note, Deb, over at Charmed, I'm Sure, is running a program on transforming oneself over this limnal season.  I am not participating, but that has no reflection on what I see as a quality idea-I simply came upon it late, and I already had my own ideas/plans in the works.  While it has already started, there is still time to join in.  You can find the link here:  New Year, New You

(I will admit to a bit of amusement at the title she chose.  "New Year, New You" was the catchphrase that I used to market personal training programs every December/January, when I ran a gym.  If  there is "egregoric" strength to a phrase, this one should do well for  it's participants.)

Awaiting the Reset Button

I'm pretty sure that there is a new blog post percolating. In the meantime, you may find this new publication of interest:

Incantatio
An International Journal on
Charms, Charmers and Charming

Issue 1, 2011, can be read as a pdf file, found here:

http://www.folklore.ee/incantatio/01.html