HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!

:)

Merry Christmas!

Enjoy the return of the Sun God. :) Eat lots of cheese.

A Tarot Reader Opens a Chase Business Banking Account

(HA!)

"Hi! I'm V. So, you want to open a business account with Chase? You're a sole-proprietor. Okay. What is your business called? Tarot of the....what? Tarot? You mean like Tarot cards? You're MAKING Tarot cards? Wow. That's uh....wow. Well, first time I've had that today! Ha! Since you're not incorporating, we will not need DBA forms. I will need your social security number, Ms. Weber. Just curious, do you READ Tarot cards? Really? How long have you been reading? 13 years??? Wow. That's uh...wow. Now, will you be requiring a Chase credit card? What about a debit card? What do you expect your average balance to be per month? How did you learn to read Tarot cards? Doesn't that require a gift? I mean, some people are SEERERS, you know? Like, they can see things? Read things? Don't you need to be able to do that in order to read Tarot? If you link your Chase credit card with your business banking, there will be no minimum fee. Without, you will need to pay a monthly fee of $25. There is a .25 interest rate for business savings accounts. Girl....I cannot BELIEVE you dropped in here at the end of the year...the things I could ask you right now.....mmmmmhmmm. I will need you to sign here and here and here and here. Wait, I'm going to need to call my manager. EDNA! Can I see you for a minute? This is Courtney, she's opening a business account. She reads Tarot. I know, right? Edna and I are allllll over this kinda stuff. We're going to have to have you come back and give us more information....*wink* if you know what I mean. I'm going to need to see two pieces of ID. So, a New York Tarot deck, huh? Will it work like a real Tarot deck? Like one you READ-read? Oh, and one more thing for you to sign. When you come back next week, we'll have the business books ready for you. You're going to make a lot of money on this thing. I can feel it. Thank you for doing business with Chase.

Cool! Video!!!

My friend Imakhu, creator of television show "ASHE!" has this new episode out! I got a piece on there teaching Tarot at Pagan Pride Day, and also a bit of me running my mouth for awhile. (Damn, my lipstick was bright that day...)

She also interviews Kirk White, Rev. Eli Camarena and Laura Wildman among others--the real reason to watch this video. :)

Yule Musings

I spent Saturday night reading Tarot at a party at the Russian Baths near Coney Island. It was a long subway ride through a furious blizzard, but there are far worse ways to make 90 bucks on a Saturday night. After a few hours of reading, I soaked in a hot tub, watching gorgeous bikini-clad peops rock out to live Balkan sounds, feeling all the more cozy knowing outside was the North Pole. After sufficient time in the hot tub, I retired to the sauna. There, I met a Russian guy named Paul. Paul asked if I'd like a Russian purification. I didn't know what that meant, but who was I to refuse an offer from a lovely Russkie dude two days before the Solstice?

You know what Paul did? He took me into the Cedar Steam room and proceeded to flog me with Oak Leaves...

It really was kind of too perfect.

After burning your toxins out in this gorgeous method, the person performing it on you puts you under a cold shower and even if you scream and try to run away (like I did), he'll make you stay in the freezing water because "You need it." Then, he wrapped me head to toes in white towels and ordered me to relax. (Only Russians make you fear the consequences of NOT relaxing enough.)

While I sat, wrapped in towels and listening to the brassy Balkan music, I thought to myself, "The Oak King rocks."

It took me awhile to get home. The subways are slow now anyway because of budget cuts. Late at night they're even slower. Add in the blizzard and I might as well have walked to Inwood. (Not really.) But there is a purpose for everything and this purpose was yet another gift of my pre-Yule evening.

When I got off the subway, it was nearly four in the morning. Normally, a sketchy time to be riding the trains alone, but not that night. New York City was completely silent. Not a car moved, not a person stumbled, staggered or cursed. The only sounds were the crunch of my boots in the snow. It was a pristine, blue-white covering turning cars into hills and dressing the apartment buildings like a storybook village street. I forgot about the cold, the fatigue, the fear of being out late and alone. I tramped through the snow, welcoming the presence of the Winter Queen. I wondered sadly, if my grandchildren would get to enjoy such a sight. Not knowing if they ever would, I took my time and took in the White Beauty. And this is how I welcomed Yule.

"You, Priestess, cannot be all things to all people"

A few weeks ago I went to Delaware to see my friends and to attend a workshop. At the Trance Prophecy Ritual that evening, a seasoned Priest brought through Odin. I've attended numerous Trance Prophecy Rituals and met a lot of different Gods, but this was the first time I approached a God and was crouched on the floor trembling like Dorothy before Oz. Except, there was no old dude behind the curtain. The old dude was the Old Dude right before my eyes and He had a mess of things to say to me. First of all, "You, Priestess, cannot be all things to all people."

(Funny. My therapist echoed the same sentiment this morning when I was ranting about some twig.)

So funny. Even though I know it's true, it doesn't stop me from trying to be perfect. All. The. Time.

Saturday, I lead the first open ritual at the new Pagan Center of New York. We had a spectacular time! The corners were called, the intention was set. The Holly and Oak Kings were chosen and duked it out. When the Oak King was the (surprise surprise) victor....He declared, "Gods bless Witches everywhere!" and we all went wild and the previously orderly ritual burst into an ecstatic Pagan dance party. It went on for hours. I received a lot of positive feedback. People had a great time and truly seemed to get something out of it. It was a blessed event and I hope we have more of them.

Sunday, I overdid it, I think. I read Tarot for four clients--one of whom purchased a full hour. The first three really liked their readings, even though they weren't all glowing news. The third even gave me a large tip. But the fourth person left me sad and dejected.

She said she was unhappy. I saw in her reading that she works too damn much. She said it was true. I pulled out a few things she could expect to experience in the coming weeks and months and a few other things she could do about her depression.

"Tell me about my personal life," she said. "Tell me what's going to happen."

I flipped some more cards and saw the same thing. Depression. Stagnation. Her job sucks. Find a new one or continue to be unhappy.

She looked cross. "Are all your readings like this?"

"Like what?" I asked.

She waved her hands over the cards. "Like this. You're repeating yourself. This isn't what I want to know. I want to know what things will happen."

"I'm afraid this is the message I have for you," I said.

"This isn't what I wanted," she said. "I want to know things. Not what I already know." She offered to pay me for fifteen minutes, but I waived it all together.

I saged the house after she left. I felt very sad. I had told her what would happen, so I thought. No, it wasn't the 7th Avenue psychic reading: "You will meet a tall man with a flowing mane...." although I do give those periodically. But that wasn't the message for her. Maybe I was tired. Maybe I took on too much psychically in one weekend. I should have thought about that before making that poor woman traipse way uptown to my house and then not give her a good reading. Then again, it wasn't that my reading was inaccurate. It just didn't cover what she wanted to hear. (Sigh.)

The woman came to my house looking for something that I was unable to provide. That's all. But even in the afterglow of having helped a lot of people, the last one I came into contact with left unsatisfied. That, unfortunately, is the one that sticks with me, even though I try to focus on all of the others.

I will reflect on the advice of Odin (and my therapist). I did what I could for the people I met over the weekend. One walked away dejected, but there is only so much responsibility I can take for it. As I told one young man at the PCNY Yule who asked about becoming a telephone psychic, when one is a minister, they must treat the practice like a pharmacist treats their own practice. The pharmacist can only put the correct pills and instructions on the counter for the patient. It's up to the patient to not only take them, but take them correctly. They can't shove the pills in their mouths nor follow them home to ensure they take them correctly. But as a minister, it's really hard to let that go.

Now, to add to the list of shit I've been called in the last week: Tyrannical, judgmental, oppressive, hypocritical. This was from someone outside my Coven, I may add. I wish this person had been a fly on the wall when I was scolded by a mentor a day later for being "too polite, democratic to a fault, too open, and needing to grab a tighter hold on the reigns."

See? Can't please them all.

Tune in next week for, "Still haven't learned that one...."

Bleck! Sorry I'm MIA.....

Writing new workshops and working on stuff for various Yule celebrations. I look forward to catching you all up on my manic thoughts...for those of you nice enough to pay attention to them!!!

Did want to direct you to the Pagan Center of New York's website

I'm teaching Tarot for Lovers at PCNY this Saturday from 2:00-4:00! $20 for everything you ever wanted to know about Love Readings. There will be a Yule ritual that evening. Shall be a good time!!!

SWEET!!!!!!

Read THIS!!!

Oh...The Lady's good to me...and so I thank the Lady!!!

Guess what, guys???

Last year, my Mom and I had a fight on Thanksgiving about me being Wiccan. It "made her sick to her stomach." Which made me sad. Obviously.

Anyway.

I was nervous coming home this year, thinking I'd be in for another fight. I wore my pentacles most of the weekend, except when my mother's new best friend "Dina" came over. I foolishly thought Dina, being Southern, would be freaked out by them and there was no sense in freaking out my mother's new friend at Thanksgiving.

To my delighted surprise, Dina asked me to give her a Tarot reading.

I did.

My mom even helped! She asked if there was anything special I needed or if it would be a problem if she were in the room when I did the reading. Dina loved her reading and said it was helpful. Mom got to see me read Tarot and see that it's not a "creepy, icky thing" I was doing, nor was it a "tongue in cheek, I don't really mean it, right?" thing. Plus, it gave her the chance to go call my grandmother and not feel her guest was being ignored.

Dina, as it turns out, is interested in alternative spirituality. She moved to Oregon to get away from the Bible Thumping she received as a child. My mommy's new BFF is a Goddess Worshiper. This, clearly, is a very good thing for me. AND for my relationship with my mother.

Short entry because I'm off to meet my friend Jenny for lunch. You can read her story here. She's inspiring. She doesn't like it when people say she's inspiring, but tough shit, kid. You inspire me.

IUD is GONE!!!!!!

Janet told me Brid said to her, "Tell Courtney to smash the anvil."

This morning, I did.

"Just didn't work out," I told the doc.

No more painful reminders, several times a month.

It sucks that it didn't work out. It really did seem to be a perfect match. But sometimes, some things just don't work and we have to leave them behind.

So, I did. And then I ate a brownie. I deserved it.

When Ovaries Attack

Last night, I was working on my Powerpoint presentation for my workshop at the Tahuti Lodge when I received a surprise attack from my own uterus.

It was, by far, the most painful experience of my life.

Menstrual cramps make you feel like your body is trying to kill you, anyway. It's the addition of this IUD though...that felt like my own normally sweet and gentle uterus called up my sciatic nerve and invited her over for blow and Twister. I'm pretty sure that's what happened.

I know a lot of Witches struggle with birth control. Hormones give me anxiety attacks. The IUD seemed like a great idea as I wouldn't have an artificially regulated cycle and wouldn't have to remember to take a pill. But this damn thing is trying to kill me I think. Last night was so bad that I couldn't even get off the couch to get more codeine out of my purse. (I finally did, though--as the need for pain pills will surpass all.) Then, I curled up on my couch and cried and googled "Signs of Miscarriage" as things were so bad, I wondered if I'd gotten knocked up and was knocking it out without knowing it. I wasn't. But I did wonder.

I also attribute this attrocity to having a Dark Moon period this month. I release every third lunar cycle, so every few months, I bleed on a Dark Moon. Dark Moon periods are....darker. All menstrual times release whatever bad juju we're carrying from our systems, and coming during a banishing time just after I lead a banishing ritual for N.O.W., I must have had to let something nasty and demonic go.

No bleeding yet, so I await with baited breath and a refill of my prescription of Tylenol 3. I may just have to chuck this thing and go back to condoms alone.

In other news, my deposit in the Magickal Garbage Can at Samhain seemed to have worked! I said I wanted to minimize distractions. Now, I no longer am able to piggyback on my neighbor's internet. Sometimes, Magick sucks.

Seminary Question Number 4 (or is it 3?), something good to read, and something great to announce.

4.) How do you relate your faith, personal history, academic background and vocational goals?

How do I relate? What do you mean how do I “relate”? I’m not sure this is a well-formulated question. How many people come to this question and say, “What the fuck?” You want me to add all of this up and say, “this equals why I want to come to Union?” I truly don’t understand what you’re asking here. Are you asking me how the fuck I ended up here? Sometimes, I’m really not sure.

(That's not my final answer.)

Hey, kids! Want to read something totally friggin' awesome??? Go pick up this little thing! I found it at the Strand, but Amazon is our friend sometimes, too.

I am thrilled to announce the formation of something new and awesome. Today, the Pagan Community Center of New York was formed. I will keep you all posted and a new website is to come.

This is a turning point. Something big happened today.

Better use of pissiness (More thoughts on anger)

When I was 18, I went to a Tarot reader.

This reader was quite good and noticed immediately that I carried quite a bit of anger--even if I was as sweet as can be during my visit. "Anger can be a powerful tool," she said. "Just don't let it destroy you."

I've often repeated that to my own clients who are dealing with anger issues. I myself am a naturally angry person. Jorge says this is because most of my chart is made of Fire and Air. Some might say it's the combination of being both Russian and Irish. My therapist would try to blame it on my childhood. (Why do shrinks blame everything on childhood?) Honestly, it doesn't matter where it comes from. The truth is that there is at least one point in each day when I'd like to punch through a wall.

But most of you would never know what a seething ball of rage I am. My co-workers have often commented that nothing rattles me. This isn't true. I do get rattled. But I've learned to redirect my anger into places where it's useful.

In my last post, I talked about being angry over heartbreak and trying to let that go, and hearing the Goddess say that these things go through phases and can't be forced. However, I can treat my anger like a knife. It can cut someone--which would be mean. It can cut me, if I bottle it up--which would be painful. Or it can be used to get work done--like cutting an apple, cutting through jungle, or carving something pretty about myself on a subway bench.

If you're like me and you live with a 900-pound raging Gorilla in your mind most of the time, put that Gorilla to work. Anger can drive us and stir us to get the job done. Below are six things worth getting angry about. Click on these the next time you're stewing about something your ex-lover said to you during your final convo....

The Great Pacific Garbage Patch

Congo's Witch-Hunt

War Rape

Still Melting

Blogging in Cuba gets you beaten

Wealthy nations forgetting their promises=people die of AIDS

(And to make you feel better.....HERE'S A REALLY CUTE BUNNY!!!)

Anger, healing and competitive sports. Plus television.

Anger is a process and healing comes in layers.

One of the greatest gifts CRR left with his visit is a new perspective on anger. Seven years ago, we were furious with one another. So furious, one would storm out of the room if the other entered. We warned other people about one another. We did the fucktarded things early 20-somethings do when spurned: gossip, bitch, gossip, bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch. (Except...it doesn't end with your early 20's...as it turns out...) But seven years later, CRR flew 3,000 miles just to hang out for the weekend. And during the visit, I knew I'd been very, very angry about something at one time. But those reasons seem so pointless that even if I weren't masking CRR's identity and our story, I wouldn't even know how to explain why I was so pissed.

So, what's the point in getting angry about anything?

Co-workers jerk us around. But it's our job to put up with them. Taking it personally is just going to run up your bar tab at happy hour. The MTA sucks. It just does. And sometimes, we get stuck underground, crammed against a bunch of strangers--some of them smelly. A few of them, rude. All of them just as unhappy to be stuck in there as we. Getting angry at the MTA doesn't make us get anywhere faster, or improve their overall service. What's the use in getting mad at a subway system? It's further proof as to why the Goddess invented the I-Pod. I-Pods save the day in a bad commute.

But sometimes, even our best perspective makes us still want to chuck a stiletto heel into a skull. Or leave a pentacle-ring bruise on a cheekbone. It may have been five months since I had my heart broken and through therapy, friends and sweet, sweet men, I'm doing pretty damn well. Occasionally, however, I'll be going along my merry way; doing my dishes, petting my cats, working on a blog post or something and I'll suddenly look up and scream "DOUCHEBAAAAAAAAAAG!!!"

"Huh," I then say to myself. "I guess I'm still kinda mad."

Tonight, after a few of these angry-Torrets episodes, I went into meditation. "Come on, you Guys," I said as I descended down the spiral staircase to The River. "Why am I still so fucking angry?"

Brid came to me looking like the Alanis Morrisette character in "Weeds." Pan came as the Silas character.

"Why do you look like Alanis Morrisette?" I asked Brid.

"I don't," She said. "I look like a doctor."

It was true. Alanis Morrisette's character in "Weeds" is an OBGYN. Brid was dressed in the white coat and everything. It made sense as one of Brid's traditional roles is that of midwife. And while I may not be having a baby right now, clearly, I'm birthing something that pisses and cries (my anger), and in Her doctor role, She was going to heal me. Pan in Silas-garb made sense: the older brother character who defends those he loves--while being extraordinarily sexy with a mild blip on the Gay-dar. We made out.

Brid pointed at the moon. "Notice how it changes? Its shape cycles in and out. You can't blame it for its nature. It will pass and change and come back."

I guess this means I have to wait it out. Anger will change. Anger will diminish. Anger will indeed grow back, so I guess this means the most dangerous and futile thing to do would be do cling to the anger or force it away. Can't do it for the moon. Can't do it for our hearts. We just have to trust the process and let time do its job. Even when we wish it would hurry up and do its job a little fucking faster.

On that note, I also advise watching basketball. Watching sports is important. When you get into a game, you don't think about anything else. It's the most entertaining form of cathartic meditation out there. Tonight, the Blazers beat the Spurs.

Essay Question #3

Describe your personal interests, including the fields which interest you most:

My personal interests include history, in particular religious history, anthropology, mythology, ecological technology and the esoteric disciplines such as Tarot, as mentioned above, astrology and medium ship. I am particularly interested in contemporary folk worship around the globe—how to people practice their faiths outside of the Church or Synagogue? I have studied mediumship in Ireland, Voodoo in New Orleans and espiritismo in New York. I teach lectures on Pagan Ethics and reading Tarot at spiritual workshops and festivals around the country.

As a performer, I’ve done quite a bit of shit I don’t know that I should mention in this essay…do you people really want to hear about me doing burlesque as a crack-head in rehab?

Tarot Workshop--ATTEND!

Samhain was a heavy one and I still have a mess o' stuff to process. I promise to come and gab about me-me-me later-later-later, but first, want to promote a workshop I'm doing in partnership with the Tahuti Lodge of New York City. I also should go vote, but have a snoozing familiar on my lap and these moments are sooo hard to come by...

I will be teaching "BURN THE F***KING BOOK: READ TAROT LIKE THE PROS" as part of the world-wide commemoration of the 100th Anniversary of the Rider-Waite Tarot deck (also known as the Waite-Smith) publication in partnership with the Tahuti Lodge on 12/5. This is a great class to better know the Tarot--whether you've been reading for years or just picked up a deck last week. The class is designed to get you to take the important step of putting down the instructional book and letting the cards speak for themselves.

Would be readers frequently say, "I want to read Tarot, but I still have to use the little book in the box...." In this class, we will be focusing on connecting the characters of the Tarot to you and your experiences as well as touching on the history of the Tarot and its place in the contemporary world. Through these methods, it will be easier to shrug off the little white book that can inhibit the oracular nature of the cards.

The class will run 4-7 on Saturday, Dec. 5th. The fee is $20. Bring your cards (any deck will do!) and a notebook. Spread the word and bring your friends! This class will be great for the novice or the seasoned Tarot reader! More than that, my classes are fun and definitely don't suck.

Space is limited and reservations strongly encouraged: http://tarot.tahutilodge.org/

Blessed Be, Pretty Babies!!!

xoxo
C

BLESSED SAMHAIN!!!

Friend of mine just sent me this poem:

(to be said at the front door of your home this eve)

Grandmother Wisdom, open the door,
Grandfather counsel, come you in.
Let there be welcome to the ancient lore,
Let there be welcome to the Winter of the Year.
In cold and darkness you are traveling,
Under crystal skies you will arrive.
May the blessed time of Samhain
Clarify the soul of all beings,
Bringing joy and wisdom to revelation.
From the depths to the heights,
From the heights to the depths,
In the cave of every soul.

~ Caitlyn Matthews

Testing.

Let me see how well this works!

CRAFT TREAT!!!

I just discovered that "The Craft" is on View Instantly on Netflix. If I'm a good girl and finish my seminary school application essay questions tonight...I know how I'm spending the rest of my evening......

Seminary Application Essay Question #2

If your academic interest primarily has been in disciplines other than religious studies, how do you expect to integrate your graduate study in theology with this other interest?

I got my degree in Theatre. So, I definitely understand the vow of poverty. I think that pretty much covers it.

Essay Question from Application

State a major theological dilemma that you wish to analyze during your studies at the Seminary. Explain in detail the importance of this intellectual problem for you.

-The Self in the Community.
-The complex nature of Intention.
-Getting Pagans anywhere on time.

After much meditation, research, contemplation and note taking, I have formulated the following thoughts regarding the propect of pursuing a Master's.

Oh. Shit.

Coming back to earth...

Hello loves,

Got back into town from the UK Tarot Conference yesterday. A truly wonderful time. Catching back up on all the work that can only pile up for having left town for four days--so will be more interesting later!!!

Gearing up to take flight

me: I slept through my alarm this morning.
Woke seven minutes after I'm supposed to leave.
Got to work only ten minutes late.

JG: you are a witch, you can bend time

Oh, if only that were true.

I have a friend who swears he can bend time. He says if he's late for work, he focuses on going back in time while he's zipping down the freeway. Sometimes, he says, he's able to get to work a full three minutes before he left the house.

I believe all things are possible. But I don't think it's possible for that friend.

Anyway, I was late this morning as I was out too late last night. I went to see Hope Sandoval in concert. Her voice is still clear and lovely as the xylophone she plays. But her band is lame. She got angry when the mics didn't amplify her enough, and left the stage for half an hour. It was fun to watch the nihilism melt from her crowd. I got home late, read cards for a friend who is going through a rough enough time to wait up until 1:00 to hear from me. I just wish all readings would end with, "No worries! It's all going to be fine!" But, they don't.

Jorge is meeting me here at noon so we can go make color prints of our cards to take to England for the UK Tarot Conference. It's starting to feel like we're actually going to have a deck that people are actually going to consult for answers on their love lives and careers. That excites me as much as it scares me. We're still searching for a publisher, but talking to the friend last night who accompanied me to the concert--we may look a little closer at self-publishing. The market right now, is just very, very lame.

Word has it I've pissed people off.

Really? Something I wrote in here pissed you off?

If you don't like what I have to say....DONT. READ. IT.

I don't recall flooding your inboxes with "Please read my blog! Please hear my thoughts!" I don't recall because I HAVEN'T DONE IT.

Get a life. Get a new job. Find your path. Whatever. It's a blog. A blog that maybe only three other people read besides you. You have a problem with this blog? READ A DIFFERENT ONE.

End of story, you jackass.

REALLY AWESOME PARTY YOU NEED TO ATTEND!!!!!

a performance/ costume party/ fundraising event
presented by APOCRYPHON PRODUCTIONS
Cost of admission: $10 without costume, $7 with
hosted by Rev. Jen (as mighty Isis!)
and featuring:
music by Flaming Fire
and Larkin Grimm
an Aztec "Sacrifice" by the very sexy Duchess Wendi
burlesque by N of Hypergender Burlesque
performance by Master Lee
Modern Dance piece by Choreographer Rob Davidson
and DJ Charles Gaskins from garagepunk.com
tarot readings by Lilith Dorsey
nymph go-go dancers
a "Hot God" contest
probably lots of impromptu nudity

Start Time: Thursday, October 29, 2009 at 9:00pm
End Time: Friday, October 30, 2009 at 4:00am
Location: Mehanata Bulgarian Bar
Street: 113 Ludlow Street

Looking for proof that the Lower East Side hasn't become a dull-as-shit strip-mall full of sports bars and conservatively dressed people making chitchat about the economy and their day jobs? Well, then get gussied up as yer fave God or Goddess and come to Pan-Theon: an ultra-freaky performance party event hosted by Rev. Jen with enough debauchery to make the Great God, Pan proud. Live music by Flaming Fire and Larkin Grimm, Bast-inspired burlesque by Agent N, an Aztec sacrifice (funny till someone gets hurt!) and dance music by dj Charles Gaskins! Why? Because the Gods love it when we dance, sing, drink and bone!

All brought to a city on the verge of losing its mojo by a group of concerned NYC Pagans who want to put the fun back in Paganism! Best of all, it's a fundraiser to bring globally recognized authorities on Witchcraft and Paganism, Janet Farrar and Gavin Bone, from Ireland to NYC to teach. (Recent books include The Pagan Path, The Healing Craft, The Complete Dictionary of European God and Goddesses, and Progressive Witchcraft.)

Thank Goddess Downtown is still weird!

Funny IM with a Scorpio.

(Backstory: Had to go to Chinese consulate to get a visa for my boss. Then, made arrangements to get pain meds to the Ex to whom Pan refuses to give a break. Then, received an email about another negative dream someone has had about me--and had to text my adviser about how to combat further astral crap. Then, IM'd with a Group member who is deeply concerned about running into an ex--if the banishing she did was not effective. Then...CRR the Scorpio got online.)

CRR: just poking my head out to say hi!
I need to take off in a few minutes.

GirlCalledWoo: Hey! Swamped today?

CRR: yeah

GirlCalledWoo: Okay, babe. :)

CRR: how's your morning going?

GirlCalledWoo: A little crazy.
Chinese consulate.
Drama in the Coven ranks.
Work is nutty.

CRR: Great. You got the Chinese involved.
You remember the last time the Chinese got involved with your shenanigans.

GirlCalledWoo: All I remember is the morphine drip.

CRR: I had to have my lower intestine rebored because of that gay bengal tiger.
So next time, please, avoid Red China in your adventures.
:)

CRR: anywho, I'm off.
check in a bit later.
Sent at 12:29 PM on Wednesday

(It was funny at the time.)

Banishing

Someone asked me this morning about doing a banishing spell and "if that would be right," thinking as how we're supposed to "Harm None."

Don't even get me started on the fact that it's impossible to truly harm none. At this moment, anyway, I'm not going to go into it.

Now, as for this banishing business.

There is NOTHING wrong with doing a banishing spell. You are banishing someone from your life, not from the planet. Imagine spell work as being akin to something you'd do in physical life. There is no harm in asking someone to leave your life if they are harming you. It wouldn't be good to kill the person or physically harm them, unless self-protection called for it. Therefore, doing a banishing, "Leave my life" is on the same karmic level as asking a toxic person to leave your house.

My last banishing was for my former Priest and lover. I'd pretty much got all of his shit out of my house, save one ring he gave me. I stuck it on the base of a white candle--after carving his name into it and dipping it in banishing oil. If you can find sage oil, that's a good one to use. If you don't have sage oil or something you can use for banishing, dip the candle stick (not the wick, of course) in salt water; preferable sea salt if you have it. Get rid of anything and everything the person has given you. If you simply can't part with an item, ritually wrap it in a black garbage bag and ritually "throw it away", even if you put it elsewhere for safekeeping for a time. Sweep your house, try to get all of the person's hair and DNA out. You don't need this person in your life anymore. Make them leave.

This Magick Service Message has been brought to you in part by Neksa, Whom I paid a visit to this morning. When I came out of the meditation, I finished crying the chest full of tears I'd been working on since Thursday. I also smashed a pile of c.d.s with a hammer. Did you know c.d.s do not break with a hammer? I believe they require the tires of a car.

The Season of Water

On Thursday, just when I thought I'd gotten through enough of the crying, it was like my chest bottomed out and there was another whole room of tears I still had to cry. They've slowed down since, but haven't stopped, yet. My healing just isn't over, no matter how much I'd like it to be.

But I'm beginning to understand that healing is a choice, not a given. And we can just as easily choose to stay hurt and wounded as we can to choose to forgive, love and be loved again.

I am choosing to love and to be loved again. Time heals everything. I just wish time would hurry up and do its fucking job.

Bad Weather for Astral Travel

Actually it's perfect weather, but I wasn't able to distance myself from my tummy ache long enough to get very far. :( Think a little work got done, though.

Then, I sent my HP off for mofongo and toilet paper while I sit here and drink senna leaf tea. That's the kind of nice guy he is.

We're going to watch "Weeds" tonight and not think about our project or our Group at all.

Facebook Updates from Ex-Lovers

(NAME DELETED) knows that if you keep playing with needles and voodoo dolls...... You'll poke my eye out.

Such assumptions flatter me.

AGAIN with the weird dreams....

Had the baby dream again.

When I get immersed in a creative project, I often dream that I'm pregnant. If I miscarry, it's a bad sign--clearly. It means I'm fucking up, somewhere. Last night, I dreamed I was about to give birth to a baby I conceived in January. As per usual, I couldn't remember who the father was. My labor wasn't progressing. In fact, I wasn't even showing. I spent the hours waiting to deliver the baby by telling different dudes that each were indeed, the father. That seemed to excite them. They weren't guys I know in waking life.

H was there and told me I would need to do more stretches in order to give the baby room to make its way into the world. Basically, there needed to be more room inside of me.

My friend Jen says I have no subconscious. She's right. Clearly, I haven't been making enough room for whatever conceived project I have to come to fruition. Now the question is...what did I "conceive" in January that should be making its worldly appearance, now? I'm still thinking on that. The only other way to connect the January thing is it was the last time (gulp) I got laid.

I'm making an effort to not do so much. Saying no to things is difficult--one of our Group members has a terrible time with that. As a Priestess, I notice that my members' issues tend to emulate those of my own. Is it because they're my issues that I notice them? Do they pick up issues from me? Are they sent to the Group in order for us to see our issues in one another? Dunno.

Anyway.

I read Tarot for a very sweet client whom I had not seen in awhile. I think she was happy, even though due to bus and class schedules, I could not give her her full half an hour. I like reading for nice people, even on cold nights when I have to take the bus.

A Spell

Hi Guys!

While waiting for the window guy to come and see what can be done to fix my living room window (I've had to use a cat-scratcher to hold it open since the day I moved in...) I'll tell you all about the protection spell I did last night.

It's not good practice to talk about the spell you're working on until it's been completed. In fact, I strongly encourage everyone to keep their spell working to themselves, unless they'd like to tell their teacher about it. I have a lot of great teachers. They hear all about my stuff, all the time.

This weekend, I went to see my adviser, Lilith. My concern: several of my Group members had come to me saying they had dreams people were casting nasty spells at me, slandering me, or doing otherwise douchey things in my general direction. Now, my regular life is feeling pretty good. If these things are indeed going on, I'm not really feeling it--yet. But I decided it would be best to have Lilith check in on it, anyway.

The cards said there was some negative hoo-ha going on: a little verbal bitching, nothing to be too concerned about--but it was a gentle warning from the Universe. Now that I'm in the role of High Priestess, I need to keep my spiritual life in tight ship all the time in order to still be the best leadership and support I could be for my crew. Time to go tidy up.

Friday night, I dreamed of a moonstone ring to wear on my index finger. At the Pagan Pride Day, I found exactly the one I was looking for at Don Cross's stand. Silver triple-moon design with a secret pentacle at the stone's support. Moonstone has been known for its protective powers and its one of my favorite stones--being a Cancer and a Moon Child and a Moon worshiper and all. The index finger of the dominate hand points the way to your endeavors. The ring on this finger would be the protection for that.

I sat at my altar last night and consecrated the ring with the Elementals: Dipped it in the incense smoke for Air, whisked it through the candle flame (carefully and quickly, as the flame could crack the stone), dipped it in the altar waters which had been perfumed with essential lavender and basil, and then dipped it in the bowl of earth--which is compiled of earth from Ireland, Manhattan and South Carolina--where my ancestors come from, where I live and where I was born. (It's best to have graveyard soil from your ancestral plots--but that's all I got at the moment.) Then, I dipped the ring, again carefully, in the flames of Brid and Pan. I read an incantation to Brid that I got from a book called, "Brighid's Healing."

Bhride! Solas geal!
Gabh isteach!
Gabh isteach!
Caed mile failte!

Brighid! Bright light!
Come in!
Come in!
One hundred thousand welcomes!

Today is the day of Bride
The serpent shall come from the mound
I will not molest the serpent
Nor will the serpent molest me

Hail until thee, Jewel of the Night!
Beauty of the Heavens, Jewel of the Night!
Mother of the Stars, Jewel of the Night!
Foster Mother of the Sun, Jewel of the Night!
Majesty of the Stars, Jewel of the Night!

I asked Brid to bless the ring with protection, and did the same for the pentacle I wear on my neck, every day. It looks different, now. Can't really say how so. Should have done the same for my other ring.

Then, I made an offering of beer and cheap wine--cheap wine for the ancestors. These things make Them happy.

Musings on the completion of the Wheel

Yes, we're still weeks away from Samhain, but already I'm feeling the end of this year's Wheel. I know what my next project is going to be. I have a book to write. Tonight, while attempting to put pound out a short story, all I wanted to do was jot down a chapter summary of the things I learned over the past year and how it can all be pounded out into a book. It's coming. That's the project for next year--besides getting into Seminary full time--is making sense out of all the shit that happened in 2008-2009 and how to process it into something that might help others. Journeys, journeys, journeys....

Meanwhile, Jorge and I are taking a week off from shooting the Tarot deck. It's amazing we survived last week's nonsense. We're collaborating on Saturday to prepare for the UK Tarot Conference (!!!)

Hmmmm....what else to say.

CRR and I talked last night about the process of writing. Writing for two hours every day, and reading for one of those hours, too. I would like to get an hour's worth of reading in tonight, but I also need to make some phone calls and clean out the refrigerator. Plus, do some kind of protection spell for my house and home. Maybe I can combine that with my reading. Reading some of my spell books. I have some good ones. When I find something good, I'll let you guys know.

CRR, are you reading this and chuckling? Stop. I feel it in NYC. (Just kidding. But not really.)

I'm playing Witchy Carrie Bradshaw because I've got to fill up twenty more minutes of writing. I'm almost there, right? Have I found enough to say? No. Did I draw any conclusions? Hell no. Do I ever? Meh. Of course not. What philosopher does? Which brings up the question....am I a philosopher? What defines a philosopher? Who the fuck cares who is a philosopher? Would a good philosopher use the word, "fuck"?

CRR, this is all your fault. You suggested I write for two hours a night and now I can't stop.

Don't worry. Only a few thousand people read this daily, anyway. And by a few thousand, I mean a few hundred. And by that, I mean a few dozen. And by that I mean, probably just you. And by that I mean, Kwanzaa, a joke in which only my sister will get this--and she only reads this blog when I tell her to.

Fifteen minutes short of the two hour time limit. Does writing an email count?

Signing off.

Baking a pumpkin spice cake.

Don't you wish you were here???

Yesterday, I didn't end up teaching "Ethical Spellcraft." My class took a vote and people wanted to learn about Tarot. So, I taught people Tarot stuff. I think they learned things. They certainly laughed a lot. So even if they didn't learn anything, they certainly had fun.

Got my reading from Lilith yesterday. Gotta do some witchy clean-up work, securing the space. Honestly, I have to do that PHYSICALLY around the house as well, cleaning out stuff, fixing things, etc. The spiritual and the physical often go hand in hand.

On that note, I need to go do dishes.

xxo
C

I'm a lumberjack and I'm okay.

Woke at 5:00 a.m. this morning with an ancestor message for a friend of mine. Now that the dead have discovered our ability to text message, they don't let us go back to sleep until they see us press "Send."

Here's what was said: "In your search for the like-minded, embrace the differences, too. That's how we learn from one another."

It's just as likely to be a message meant for me as well.

Today is the PRIDE AT BATTERY PARK!!!!

Coming out of the Retrograde funk.....

I hope people are still speaking to me after this week. I'm normally very sweet and loving, but was pretty rancid for part of this week. Jorge was gracious. I was a hen-pecking BITCH last night at our King and Queen of Swords shoot--which is probably not a huge surprise. As I was telling a friend, shoots emulate the cards. While our models were great, the lighting was a pain in the ass.

The ride home was long. Our shoot was out in a deep pocket of Brooklyn and didn't finish until almost midnight. Because trains are slow that time of night, I didn't get home until after one. I believe I was cursing my blessings. Having a fabulous project to do and people who are working on it with me. Having finished a shoot I'd been worried about since beginning this Tarot deck journey nearly two years ago. Having a JOB in this bad economy for which I'd have to get up early for. For living in New York, the place I'd dreamed of living since I was a kid--even if it broke my wallet again this month and means that traveling five miles after midnight is a sojourn more aptly titled "Pilgrimage to Apartment."

But last night I dreamed of Marilyn. I don't remember what she said, but I believe she will stay in my dreams as a reminder to count, not curse, my friggin' blessings--even when they masquerade as inconveniences, annoyances, and severe tests of my goddamned patience.

Tomorrow is Pagan Pride Day here in NYC!!! I am so excited!!!

PANties....

It's appropriate to honor the God with due gifts.



(It's a little hard to see--but that's a flaming red lace thong on His ear)

I like how people are blaming Jorge.

;)

A story from last night and many thanks to a hooker named Marilyn

First of all: One story from last night.

At the end of the show, I was tired. Two nights in a row of reading cards plus the days both days--was getting run down, and quickly. A young woman came to the table and asked for a reading. I said, as I've started saying, "How can I help you?" She wanted to know about the future. Then, she revealed that both her parents had been murdered a year before. What was she to do, now? Mother of fucking pearl....I said to myself. I am not trained to deal with this. Please, please God. Don't let me say anything stupid.

First thing's first: I shook the deck and said, "You will not find an answer as to why this happened in this reading. I wish you could, but it's not going to happen. What I can try to do is give you a few tools as to find methods to heal yourself. Will that work for you?"

She said yes. As per usual, I can't remember what I told her, but she walked away smiling--which is a hell of a lot better than when someone gets a reading from me and goes to lock themselves in the bathroom either to cry or eat pills. However, when she did walk away, I put my head in my hands on the table. How the hell do these things happen to people??? And why???

The next guy came to my table and just wanted a general reading. He looked at me blankly the whole time.

"Does this have any poignancy for you?" I asked.

"Not really," he said.

"Okay, then," I reshuffled the deck. "I'll tell you what has happened. I'm out of psychic juice. I am happy to give your money back." He kindly declined the refund, so I tried something else. I fanned the cards, face down, on the table.

"Pick one," I said. "I'll tell you everything I know about it symbolically, and you take from it what you will. Maybe there will be some kind of message for you."

He liked that idea and drew a card. When I told him everything I knew about it, he walked away smiling. So, even if it was probably the lamest reading ever, he didn't go to the bathroom for tears or drugs and I got to keep the five dollars. I did the same thing for the next dude, who again let me keep the five dollars even though I was out of juice, and was happy with the "Here's the symbolism" reading.

See, fellow readers? It's best to be honest with folks. When we're done, we're done. Likely, they'll want to get the cards to tell them something anyway.

***

Saturday night, I had two dreams.

The first was of KM. I still dream of him on a regular basis. Sometimes, we're laughing at the situation we're both going through. Sometimes, we're fighting. Last week, we were on the dream phone and all I could say was "WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY???" The call kept dropping before he could answer. Saturday night, I don't remember the scenario. But I wasn't happy with whatever it was we talked about, and I remember him not being happy, either. I left him there, staring at the ground, and "came back" to whereever I came "from," arriving at an airport with my friend Mike. My ex-lover TM had come to pick us up, for whatever reason.

I must have said this before--but I'll say it again. NEVER name your Coven "Nymphs of Pandemonia." We were disorganized. Everything started three hours late. But our parties were awesome and we got laid a lot, as to be expected. And also as to be expected, we blew apart over a penis. This particular penis happened to belong to TM. He and my now Ex-Coven sister ended up together and thereby ended the "Nymphs of Pandemonia."

Oh, well. If it didn't happen one way, it would have happened another. It feels like a high school complication, looking back on it. People are people. People hook up. People go away. People come back. Covens have short shelf-lives and something named NOP was a miracle for lasting the 18 months that it did. I think we're all in better places now. Novices of the Old Ways was born out of the dregs of the old Coven, and for it I'm incredibly thankful.

But in my dream, the former coven sister, Phoenix, arrived at the airport with TM. I was furious and wouldn't speak to her. She pulled me aside and said, "Have you even noticed that I'm here?" I replied, "What right have you to return? Why would you insert yourself into my thoughts." Then, I said some very, very mean things that made her cry. Before we could to back to our male companions, when they would see she was hurt and know that I'd made that way, I tried to smooth things over, but couldn't pull up an apology when I had none to make. "I'm glad I said these things to you here, and not in waking life," I said. And then woke up.

Then, I was mad.

Why was I still dreaming of KM, TM and Phoenix? I don't want to think about any of them. I avoid talking about all three of them because it only makes me mad. I scribbled in my journal all the way up to Inwood. Cursing and pissing on the pages. "Leave me alone, dumb thoughts!!!"

Then, I was interrupted by a hooker named Marilyn.

She saw me writing in my journal and complimented my cursive handwriting.

"God bless you! You have a gift. I wish I could write like that. I wish so I could write like that...."

I always got reprimanded in school for having shitty-slanty cursive writing. I appreciate the effusion. I wrote her name down on a piece of paper in the cursive, and gave it to her. Her name was Marilyn.

She went on and one about her blessings. Her new shelter. Her shower. Being clean. Having clean clothes. Having eight children, though she doesn't see them anymore. Being HIV positive, but still alive. Having made it on her own in the streets. She was alive. She said she was blessed. Beaming smile radiating from her, I knew it was true.

The woman on my left was all dressed for church. She looked spectacular in a green dress and a hat that looked like a fabric fountain. She looked up from her Bible a few times to acknowledge Marilyn and then went back to her reading. Marilyn liked her outfit and wanted to talk to her about it. But the lady wanted to read her Bible.

I'm not a saint. I honestly wanted to just scribble in my journal and be left alone. I'm giving a lot of justice to Marilyn's speech, because it isn't easy to follow the thought-process of a subway-riding street person. But, really. Wouldn't the Gods prefer I give this poor woman my ear for just a few stops than to scribble about what I think the Gods might want from me in my coffee-stained, ass-printed notebook? Certainly, the Christian lady's God would have preferred she help that woman than sit there and read about what Christ wanted from her. The woman on the other side of me gave Marilyn a little money. I had none. But Marilyn didn't ask for it. Just wanted to show me her poetry. Which I read. It wasn't good, but it had soul. I was happy to have met Marilyn.

When Marilyn left, I was thankful. Wow. My only real problems are me not being able to figure out my stupid emotional baggage. But Marilyn was the blessed one because despite her fatal illness, separation from her children and tenuous living situation, she was indeed blessed. I counted my blessings the rest of the ride home. I was ready to honor the Gods at Mabon.

Last night, to top it all off, I dreamed I was reading a Pagan writer's biography alongside The Goddess. "All these so-called accomplishments," She said, pointing out the number of books the writer had written, c.d.s recorded and Conferences taught. "What this doesn't say is what this person does to better their fellow man. That's what this biography should be full of." I woke thinking of Jacob Marley in A Christmas Carol, "ManKIND should have been my (motherfucking) business."

Okay, Lady. I'z done hearded.

It's possible that a Witch's true powers....

...are merely the rumors that go around about her. (sigh...)

I am tired and grazing on corn chips because I am tired. Worked the nine-to-five and then went to Larkin Grimm's show two nights in a row where I read Tarot. Met some very nice people.

If you haven't heard of Larkin, check her out immediately.

That is all. Off to bed-bye.

Mabon

Work is slow today, and I'm distracting myself from Ovulation pains for a moment. The "blessed" (and by that I mean, SUCK-ed...) IUD makes its presence known not only when I'm flowing, but when I'm laying an egg as well. Gah. Be patient with my bitching about the coil. I do recognize that I could have it removed, but once I get used to it, it will be hormone free-b.c. that will be good until I a.) want to spawn or b.) turn 37. Yay!!! But it takes about six months to stop wrenching.

Now that the cold sweats have vanished and the trembling subsided (YES!!! IF YOU'RE WONDERING!!! IT'S THAT FUCKING BAD!!!!)

Anyway.

Our Group's Mabon celebration is this coming weekend. I've realized recently, as I've mentioned before, how somehow I fell out of touch with my own connection to the Mysteries. Witchcraft felt, in the beginning, like I was standing on the shore of a great mysterious ocean, letting the pearly waves lap at my toes and beckon me to join. Someday, I would swim to its depths. I now know there is never fully a way to swim to those depths and one will always be standing on the shore--but now my shore is littered with noises: Group planning, writing, reading, conferences, travel, navigating relations with other faiths, navigating relations with my family, navigating dumbass Witch politics--these things are the screaming tourists, the lifeguard megaphones and the motorboats of an otherwise peaceful area.

In addition to making time twice a day to connect with my Gods in the simple, innocent way I once did (to the best of my abilities...), but also making sure I place as much personal spiritual experience in our Sabbats as do the Group members. It's too easy to get caught up in the "who goes where," "what happens now..." "no one is getting possessed, are they???" mess of it. I'm also bad to not give full thought to my gifts and offerings at Sabbats--taking the stance of, "I got everyone here--isn't that enough?" No, Weber. It's not enough.

I've asked our members to bring a non-toxic offering to leave at the Cedar tree to thank the Gods for the gifts of the past year. I have decided to bring an apple, a vial of salt water, a gourd, and a handful of Carolina Aromatic Rice. Here's why:

THE APPLE: For what I have learned.
For my 3rd Degree Initiation. For the lessons I've learned through writing and running the rituals. For the classes I took at Union. For the people I've met who've taught me things. For the Spirits I've encountered who gave me messages. For the time with my teachers. For the things I've learned from our members. For the books I've read. For the messages in the music I've listened to. For the revelations in meditation. For the things I've learned from the students in the classes that I've taught.

SALT WATER: For the tears I've cried.
Good GOD. Haven't cried so many goddamned tears since the seventh grade. Tears of stress, tears of fear. Tears of being in love and having that beautiful love returned. The tears in the trials I faced with this love. The tears in being let down by this love. The tears in saying goodbye. The tears in anger. The tears in guilt. The tears in being loved by friends and members of the community. The tears in hearing kind words. The tears of joy in giving my Goddaughters their first spiritual exercise. The tears of being forgiven for something I long felt guilty for (as in...nearly 20 years of feeling bad....). The tears of hope. The shared tears with those who also lost. But tears teach us the depth of our heart. They teach us compassion and understanding for others. Only when one knows true sadness can one appreciate true joy. My heart is bigger now, stretched by the tears it created and shed in the past year. I thank those who helped create them, and I thank those who washed them away. Tears are cleansing. I'm pretty damned clean, as a result. And it's not just the juice fast.

THE GOURD: For my health.
It's seasonal, it's healthy, it comes from the earth itself in a variety of gorgeous colors and textures. I weathered through the year on very little sleep and high stress, for most of it, and am thankful for the minimal number of colds or otherwise ailments. The IUD was the most painful thing I experienced this year. It may be the MOST painful thing I ever experienced--at least since I got my braces at 12. But that's all I really have to complain about.

RICE: For the time I spent with my family.
I grew closer to my family this year than ever before. Carolina Aromatic Rice. It was appropriate.

As we walked through the park today to leave the offerings at the base of the tree, I was elated. I was thankful. I really have an awesome life.

YAY!!!!

People really seem to like my article!!!

Thanks for reading, everyone!

xoxo
C

WOO-HOO!!! A MAJOR TURNING POINT IN THE LIFE OF WOO-WOO!!!

Last night, my Dad finally asked what Wicca was all about. (Previously, in life of Woo-Woo, this same Dad was referring to Wicca as "digging up graves-raising the dead- Celtic-whatever-witchcraft shit.") But last night, he said he was interested in learning what it was all about. Since I was clearly so far into it (translation: Not A Phase), he ought to know more about it. I sent him a link to purchase When Someone You Love Is Wiccan.

"I'll get it on my Kindle!" Dad said.

"Looks like it's cheaper that way, too..." I started.

"$9.99! Everything on Kindle is $9.99."

"Cool!" I replied. "You save seven dollars, Pop!"

"I know!" he said. "I get the Times there every day, too."

See, kids? This is how you get your parents to accept your alternative spirituality. Link it to their favorite toys. Showing them they've saved seven dollars helps, too.

A beautiful message.

Last night, before I went to my Pan and Brid altar to pray, I prayed at my Ancestor Altar and said, "I don't always feel you. Please don't forget about me. I haven't forgotten about you."

An hour later, a text message from a friend arrived. "A message from your angel guides: You shine brighter than even you know. :-) and your good deeds are well noted. Sleep well dear blessed Courtney and know you are deeply loved."

I went to sleep happy.

Today is a good day. ;)

I was interviewed this morning for a book a very nice woman is writing on the Craft. It was great fun. Her eye-opening moments, connecting with me on shared experiences. "Prophetic dreams? Yeah!" "Spirits coming in the middle of the night? Totally!" "Some kind of kinetic connection to being the first born daughter? Me too!!!" It took me back to the early days in the Craft when I was discovering everything and giddy with the same intoxication the Born-agains spout. I think it's important in the paths of all clergy, go back to the romantic, moonlit beginnings of your time in the Craft. It's quite easy to get mulled in Witch politics, scheduling stuff, reading books and defending yourself at holiday get togethers with the fam. (By the way-- this week I've had to add "Seducing Husbands 30 Years My Senior" and "Plotting and Magickally Strategizing to End Relationships As A Way To Gain Power" to the most recent list of things that I'm "guilty" of. Frankly, I had no idea I was up to these things. *sigh.*)

Meeting her was refreshing. I was back in my parents' yard, summoning a nameless Moon Goddess, who appeared before my very sober eyes, and embracing Her light again. I don't know when I strayed from what I started on, but I hope She doesn't leave me behind again, or me leave Her behind, either.

I don't know if I'm a good leader--but I figure I must not be a bad leader. I just have to remember that this Group was given to me as a job--for now. I'm providing a place for people to worship their Gods and Goddesses, and find community with like-minded others. If I provide that, even if I'm not sure if I'm good, I know I'm not bad. And as a Witch I know there is never a good or bad, but varying degrees of both.

The rest of the day I spent in the park with my goddaughters and Bella. An old-timey Christian group sang hymns on a large stage. I requested "Hoof and Horn," but they didn't play it. I then went to see "9" with Jorge. We both liked it. It was a good day.

How we handle things.....

Not saying this is the ONLY way to ask someone to leave, but it might be the better of the way to go.

I'm quite drained right now--had two Tarot gigs two nights in a row, plus working all day at the day job yesterday, and really need to go pull me back together before heading out into the Supportive Friend world this evening, which is bound to be much delight and debauchery. :)

Anyway, at the conclusion of my goddaughters' Wiccaning, there was an incident involving a volatile tantrum by one of our members that ended with me turning to the HP and our other Group members and declaring, "She's done. She doesn't come back." A week ago, I would have told you that sort of declaration is WRONG and dismissal of a member involves a consensus and much discussion. But no one argued with me or asked me to take time to reconsider. In fact, one person present said later she was glad there was no discussion on it. The tantrum was of a nature that was frightening to people present, and it wasn't the first time it had erupted from this individual.

The first time I dismissed someone, I wrote a stern and rather harsh letter which I imagine truly hurt her to read. At the time, it seemed right. At this time, I know my words came from a place of hurt and anger. In this most recent dismissal, I worked harder to use gentler words. The point of the action was the most important--not "how" it was done.

Sometimes, we get so hung up on making our point, saying the words we believe others deserve, that we don't ever just get the fucking job done. The Gods have often told me, "Keep your rituals simple. Stick to the point. Get it done. And...have fun." There isn't a whole lot of fun to be had in a dismissal, but instead of ranting over the reasons as to WHY this person needed to go, I simply tried to stick to the point of THAT she needed to. Here's what I wrote, followed by what I got back:

Hi F,

It truly was an unfortunate end to what otherwise was a beautiful weekend. You made an excellent representation of Ghob and I was thankful to have you along. Perhaps you are right and physical handicaps were not given sufficient consideration when planning our trip back. If it indeed would have been easier for you to take Metro-North back from New Haven, we certainly would have made that happen. I clearly did not adequately communicate the group's travel plans upon getting back to New York. I did not ask Birdie to drop me off, I was planning on riding back with her to Jersey City and then taking the trains back to my place, but she offered to stop by Inwood as it's relatively on the way to the Holland Tunnel from Spanish Harlem--a quick stop off the Harlem River Drive. Perhaps we should have had a meeting before hitting the road to make sure all needs were met. There are numerous ways this could have been handled differently.

I'm sorry you feel as though this Group has a dictator and that you do not feel comfortable responding to it. I think, however, there is a bigger movement going on here than simply a disagreement about who should have driven where. Many of these kinds of situations are brought about when a change needs to be made.

I've reflected on this quite deeply and I'm wondering if this all came about because your true Pantheon--Jesus, the Blessed Mother and the Holy Spirit--may be calling you home. I am aware of your wounded past with the Church, but the situation on Monday may have been an abrupt signal that perhaps it is time to re-establish your relationship with your Gods. Novices of the Old Ways was designed with the intent of helping people find their true path in life. I strongly encourage you to reflect on the reason this situation arose and see if perhaps you agree with me in my assessment. It may merely be a sign that your soul belongs on a different path. I think it's time you "went home." :)

You have been a marvelous contribution to our Group during your practice with us. Most certainly, Ghob selected you to be His vessel at the Wiccaning. No one there could have disagreed with that. Now, I'm encouraging you to take what you've learned from us and forge your new path.

I've spoken with Hank in superficial detail about this and he asked me to let you know that he would be more than happy to help find you an open-minded Christian fellowship in New York City--one that could help you not only forge your relationship with Jesus and Mary again, but also heal the wounds you've suffered from your past dealings with the Church hierarchy. He is expecting your email.

I also invite you to call upon me one-on-one to discuss your spiritual needs as they arise. I love you very much and want you to heal and embrace the all the light this beautiful world has to offer. You are a talented, bright and extremely special person whom I am privileged to know.

May the Gods and your Ancestors shine brightly on your path, so no shadows augment your way. :)

Blessed be,
Courtney

(From F)
I wanted to apologize on Tuesday.

Thank you.

I have been unable to use the computer or the phone -- communicate for a few days and I am lifted by your kind words.

I agree that a change has occurred and it caused my isolation.

I apologize for "freaking out." I can give you the step by step analysis of this particular character flaw... but suffice it to say that i am aware of it. I know I harm people. I harm myself every time. No joke. I'm sorry - so so sorry for everyone.

That being said, I no longer "hate" myself for having an "unusual" character flaw. I might even go so far as to say that I've found peace in it. I see and hear other people so much better now. I see other people and their flaws. i have begun loving them and begun loving mine. It may seem weird, but that's the Wryd of My Life. My temper is socially unacceptable. i accept that. These "flaws" often make me lonely and afraid (which perhaps adds to the problem) but I'm throwing love energy at it.

You use the word, "wounded." I am not and never have been wounded by the Church. I ain't THAT old! I escaped my home every Sunday and went to church. It was a refuge for me. I just became cynical and too right-brained and went from agnostic to atheist in no time. I was a terrible atheist, btw, as most artists are...

I will go back and hang with the old crones at the Rosary Society. I love the Catholic Church. It made me pagan. OBM is my main goddess. She has helped me and warmed me. She is my main Goddess. I spent ten + years calling myself an atheist, but she never left my side.

Odin is my Lord. He came to America disguised as a "tradition." I love HIM!

Jesus, in my mind, is the first personal god to approach me. Alone. I don't believe he will be the last. I have to laugh that he asked me to help his public image when I can't maintain my own! Perhaps I should just do as I'm bloody told already. Maybe I'm being punished for stalling.

I don't believe in one strict pantheon. I believe everything mutates and changes as human-god connections change.

I believe I am wounded by family. And not just in this life. I believe my ancestors are very active in my life (they are on my back!) I assume I will be introduced to the pre-Christians gods some day. When i am ready.

You have taught me so much, I don't know how to thank you. I won't be joining a "christian" church any time soon! hhaha! Although I like Easter Services in protestant churches and I respect most.

Tell Bella that I respect her temper as I respect mine. I pray she moves forward in peace and pride. Peace and pride, for all of us.

If you could tell everyone that had to witness my panic attack that I am sorry and to go in peace and pride. Hey! i like that. Just an apology. Tell everyone that I don't expect anything. I know my behavior was off the charts. I am not asking for forgiveness. I only need to forgive myself.

peace out and may your tree blossom.

Lotsa stuff....

My goddaughters were Wiccaned last weekend, and I have to say goodbye to a member, which is rather sad, but necessary, I guess. I will fill all in when I've enough mental fortitude to process all the information. Initiation brings change, even in the mildest attempts at it.

Goddess give me patience...

...so that I don't kill anyone today. And by "kill," I mean, "chew the head off." And by "Chew the Head off" I mean "Lose my fucking cool." I say this so no one comes and arrests me thinking that I'm actually contemplating murder--because I'm not. Although the stakes certainly get set high sometimes.

I dreamed last night the Tarot deck was finished and came to my house in neat little boxes. That was a good dream.

Today, I am in an online magazine!

I read my friend Rev's Tarot and she documented it for Time Out New York! Check me out HERE!!! I'm in photo #7.

Crashed Orientation at Seminary Today.

It's okay. The Admissions Counselor invited me.

There was free food and I sat with three very nice people, two of whom are starting Seminary this fall. One girl was from UCC. The other girl was a Spiritualist, and had even gone to that crazy town in Florida, full of mediums. I liked both of them, a lot.

I'm going to apply. But right now, I'm going back to work. I'm swamped.

HAVING A TOTAL GEEK-GASM!!!!! (Following a weekend of wallowing self-reflection....)

I found on aeclectic.net THIS Tarot deck!!!

I was so excited I emailed the creator to ask if they'd let me know when they'd found a publisher....and they wrote back saying they HAD FOUND ONE!!!! It's at the publisher, now!!!

I can't wait to get a copy. I also want this deck , but haven't heard back from the creator in awhile to know where they are in its process. Tarot decks take awhile.

In other news, George and I had a great shoot this weekend with our Page and Knight of Swords. My next obstacle is finding locations for the last two major shoots.

This weekend was rough as I was deeply feeling my loss. I slept a lot, waiting for the Gods to explain Themselves and why They so swiftly took away something I thought was meant for me. I didn't find that answer, but I took a wonderful walk with my HP to the cloisters, where we both reconnected with each other and the soil of Manhattan. I was suddenly thankful for where I've been placed and for the gifts around me.

I wrote this morning on the subway that I feel like I'm clutching broken shards of a jar that once held something I loved deeply--but the contents are long gone and I suddenly don't quite remember what the jar held, only that what was in there was for a time all I wanted in the world. Maybe it's good that I can't remember what it smelled, felt and tasted like. Maybe I don't want to remember.

But then I realized that I was crying over a void and maybe I should be happy that I can fill the void with whatever I choose. So I stopped crying and wrote some erotica. That saved the day.

Email exchange.

I've made up names for my friends. Some of these names are dumb. This is for their privacy--not because my friend actual call themselves corny shit. If I haven't thought of a name yet, I'm using an initial.

So Birdie called me very upset this am.

Here was her dream:

She was out with friends: me, L, A, Ash and her. We were at a perfume boutique place and then we all went out for wine and cheese. Then she and Ash went back to Birdie’s house. A baby boy who was sleeping. Ash and Birdie were in the living room and everything was hard wood floors. They were sitting on the floor. In the right hand corner she noticed a spirit and dismissed it. Then Ash looked over and saw it. Then Ash said she started hearing female voices and Birdie looked over and they saw two female faces. Ash started freaking out and then the women started speaking jibberish (sounded like whispers) and Ash freaked out and became hysterical. So Birdie stood up and put her right hand out and said 'In the name of Jesus Christ I command you to leave.' She said it 3 times and after the third time she felt like someone was choking her and she woke up gasping for air.

Then when she woke up out of the corner of her eye she saw tow white spirits leave her bedroom. D comforted her and then went to the bathroom. When he left the room she sat up in the bed and held her belly and said whoever you are this has to stop and you can not harm me or my baby. Then she called on her protectors and her babies protectors to help them. Then the sun went up outside the window and she Laid back down in the bed and she saw out of the corner of her eye all these little creatures popping in and out of her vision. Peeking in on her.

She is very scared, She worries that these beings are out to get the baby. She says she hasn’t had a dream of Pan in a week and she is upset because she has been to 3 book stores and can not find the Pagan Parenting book I suggested. She worried that the baby has unfinished business and someone is after him.

Here's how I responded:

White spirits are usually protectors or Ancestors. Two women whispering in the corner of the room do not seem to be dangerous--although they can scare new mothers, who are protective. My guess is that these two beings are Guardians or Ancestor spirits, and if so, it's natural that they would respond with some kind of choke-attack if someone were trying to curse them away. If they are guides or ancestors, nothing in this world will get them to leave and they will fight for their place. They're bound to the baby (I keep thinking son as I type this). If she were seeing grey or dark spirits, I would think there may be more reason of concern. As for things peeking at her, cursing at spirits is naturally going to upset the Fabric and draw the attention of other spirits in the vicinity. (Think of rubber-necking at a car accident.) I don't automatically think those were harmful, either.

Best thing to do is sage and Holy Water the apartment--which is what she should be doing, anyway. If these are benevolent beings, it won't impact them and will actually help them do their job. If they're malevolent, it will help chase them away--but I honestly don't think that is the case. I think Birdie got frightened because she saw something unfamiliar and assumed it was bad. Time for her to chill, go home, sage and Holy Water and get the home back into peaceful order. After that, she needs to talk to the beings she saw. A good thing to say is, "I don't know you and you are in my home. Reveal yourselves to me and state your business in a form that will not frighten me or others in this house."

Remind her that babies attract a lot of spirits, naturally, and visits will be common. Most will be neutral. Some will be good. Very few will be bad. Adolescents are the ones folks need to watch out for--they're a favorite among malevolent spirits, but babies are a favorite among positive ones. And Gods pull vanishing acts periodicaly, for whatever reason, so Pan's sudden silence shouldn't be any major cause of concern, either. Izzy never felt or saw Pan once during her entire pregnancy, but had a beautiful dream shortly after the girls were born in which Pan hugged and kissed her and said, "Welcome back."

***

When I did speak to Birdie later, I also reminded her that pregnant women are nuts and she has to remember that she's running around with a few fewer marbles in her head and that's perfectly normal--but to remember to stay calm. I hope that wasn't a mean thing to say. And I hope my advice was helpful.

Restoration

I stayed in last night and missed out on something called "Helen Keller Erotica" which I'm hoping someone will explain later. I needed to restore. I was so very, very cranky yesterday. Maybe it was the weird guy who cornered me with apologies at the Slipper Room Tuesday night, or maybe it's the combination of having read Tarot for four hours in an environment that is naturally an assault on the senses (the burlesque club), and getting home late (although not TERRIBLY late) and having set an alarm for the wrong time, and hearing from a former lover who is still angry at me for my behavior at a party last April--but last night I was tapped out. I wanted to go home, cuddle a kitty and sleep for hours, but instead forced myself to walk past the turn off to my apartment and up to the Cloisters, where I always find solace.

The Hudson is beautiful, by the way, and how many more warm summer days will 2009 provide? Not that many. On a darker note, I thought about how if I ended up dying last night, I would have been angry with myself for not taking advantage of the beautiful weather and going up to the park.

There is a tunnel along the West Side Highway, that appears like an Atlantian temple, rising around the bend of the park like "out of the mists" or something. When you walk through the tunnel, it pulls negativity from you like rotten leaves from a gutter. I don't often go alone--for no matter how beautiful it is, it isn't safe, but yesterday, I did. I left some shite behind: Anger over the July break-up, anger at hearing from my former lover--only to find him being angry, too--, anger at being tired. I visited the cedar tree, my heart nearly stopping for a moment when it was obscured by other foliage. I thought it had been cut down. My favorite tree in the park was cut down last spring and it was a painful loss. This cedar tree, though, has been a sacred place for not only our Group, but for others as well. We've found offerings and paintings on its branches--the offerings are stupidly removed by the City, but we (and others) still leave them there, anyway. At Ostara, we plant eggs with our wishes for the next year painted on them at the base of this tree. Yesterday, I noticed a young plant growing directly out of the place where we buried those eggs, in March.

For those who scoff at the idea that nature spirits can thrive in the City, or that the Urban Jungle is no place for Earth worship would find a country foot in their mouths if they came to this little spot. Yes, a busy freeway roars just feet away, but you just don't really hear it. Yes, there is trash underfoot (which we collect every time we visit), but there are also sprites and spirits and things of a non-mortal nature poking their heads from behind trees, stumps, stone columns and garbage cans. When I was in Ireland, we walked through the forest and my teacher looked back at me and said, "Do you feel that?"

Here in New York, I supplied the same answer to the wind, as there was no one else there to respond: "Yes."

I left feeling refreshed and started thinking about all the cool things I want to do this fall. I'm excited.

Goody. Goody. Gumdrops.......

I set my alarm this morning for 7:15--plenty of time to get to the dentist before work....but OOPS!!! Set it for 7:15 P.M. and woke up at 9:05--furious, but refreshed.

FEED was a fun event. Reading cards in clubs is very, very hard and I've a tendency to be a flaming bitch. I kept it pretty well in check last night until some dude came over and said, "Are you a psychic or a Tarot reader?" When I replied it depended on the situation he said, "Look at me. What can you see about me? Tell me what you know about me just by looking at me."

A strange voice erupted from the throat I know as mine: "I DON'T PLAY 'TEST THE PSYCHIC.'"

He apologized. In fact, he was one of those guys who doesn't just apologize and walk away, but apologizes and explains his apology and finishes the apology with a story about his mother, his grandmother, their spiritual gifts, his relationship with God, his respect for people like me "even though" we "worship the Devil" and threw in a story of how a psychic ran up to him in a shopping mall and told him things she had no way of knowing about his life and got him to come in and buy a reading from her. Had I, he wondered, ever had experiences like that?

"Yes," I said. "But not tonight."

He left to make a phone call and didn't come back, apologizing once more as he truly had no intention of playing "Test the Psychic." I should have charged him ten dollars anyway, but in the end, it's really not about the money.

I think I'm cranky today.

Thing going on tonight!!!!

FUNDRAISER FOR UNDERGROUND ART PROJECT AND I'LL BE READING TAROT!!!!!!

FEED the Fundraiser!

Help us fund the LGBT Feature Film
from Lux Killmore Ent. & Keptone Filmz!

Tuesday August 25th @ The Slipper Room
167 Orchard at Stanton, NYC 10002, $10

8-10pm Bikini Martini OPEN BAR
provided by Sagatiba, Party All Nite!

Musical Guests:
Bazooka Falcon - 8pm
VULGARAS - 11pm
and DJ Ness - ALL Nite

9pm: Bunny Love & Glenn Marla Host:
(in order of Appearance):
Insectavora
Bambi the Mermaid
Kit Cat
Velocity Chyaldd
Deity
The World Famous *BOB*
Bunny Love
Glenn Marla
Legs Malone
St. Rev. Jen Miller
Gal Friday
NiK SiN
Lady Satan
Reina Terror

Madame Courtney reads you Tarot!

Midnite Screening of
Lux-Killmore cult
cinema shorts!
Plus more!

Raffles prizes donated by:
School of Burlesque
Coney Island USA
Rev. Jen Miller
GothicHangman
Linus Gelber
Danger Dame
Fred Harper

http://www.LuxKillmore.com

Lux Killmore Entertainment (Terror of Titty Town, Buxotic Beauty Murders, Lost
Weekenders) team up with Keptone Filmz (Interstate, The Other End Of The Line)
to develop their short film, Cannibal Love Lust into a feature film, now called
FEED. All monies raised at this event will feed FEED. Production begins this
fall, so we need to get cooking on raising some much needed dough!

FEED is a savory, sensual, slasher, love story about Chef Ronnie, a charming
celebrity chef who thrives and shines in her everyday life as owner and
proprietor of , La Pica Diabla, a trendy Spanish tapas restaurant and bar in San
Francisco. Chef Ronnie cooks internationally award-winning meals by day and her
nights are spent in ways too gruesome to fathom. In her secret life, Ronnie, is
a cannibal serial killer who murders a variety of people, from her disposable
array of amorous and clueless lovers, former employees and the occasional
diners. As Chef Ronnie and La Pica Diabla's reputation get hot in all of San
Francisco's social and top food circles; so does San Francisco's murder count.
Being haunted by her past, in the form a vengeful lover, and being caught in the
seductive cross fire of a increasingly serious relationship; Chef Ronnie has bit
off more than she can chew.

"FEED" is a fully LGBT film. All the characters are homo or trans and our
killer...A LESBIAN. Name one "Slasher" movie (besides vampire flicks) where the
killer is a lesbian. Still can't think of one? That's because it's an entirely
untapped market. Lux Killmore wants to bring you the first and the best. Let's
pave the way together!

RSVP for Facebook is here -
http://www.facebook.com/velocitychyaldd#/event.php?eid=120103206852&ref=mf

It's been awhile.

But I just saw Julie/Julia and it put me in a blogging mood.

It's been a busy year. Since Yule I have:

a.) Been reunited with the love of my life, thusfar.
b.) Attended seminary school.
c.) Watched the size of our Group nearly double.
d.) Taught at two different Pagan festivals.
e.) Received my third degree.
f.) Got my heart good and broken. But Brid said it wasn't going to happen again.

My goddaughters turned a year old. Their Wiccaning is planned for Labor Day weekend. I'm facing the tenuous repercussions of dealing with the break up of a couple within our Group--both of whom are members. I'm taking a long hard look at my own relationship with alcohol and finding it hasn't been a healthy one. My HP and I are extremely close to finishing our Tarot deck which will be awesome!!!

A good friend of mine laughed when she said, "Did no one tell you that getting the Third means your life is going to turn upside down?" I guess I should have known, but I didn't. Nothing has been the same, since--and that's an empty phrase to read, but the only appropriate description when you're feeling it.

Where do the Priestesses go for Priestessing when their own lives fall to shit? Eager faces of the Group members watch me, whether they mean to or not, to see how I deal with the pain of losing someone I loved, facing battles with substance and slowly fit back into a life that was moulded to suit the person I once was--but am not, now. They learn from my example, even though the vast majority are older than I. If I've done my job right as a Priestess, when they go through similar experiences, they're going to reflect on how they saw me react. So, I better not fuck it up.

One of my members politely complained recently that I am "rather gruff and vulgar, and not truly honoring the Goddess within me." To that I replied, "One of my Goddess's incarnations likes to rub chili peppers on Her genitals. You're lucky I don't emulate THAT." Actually, I'm lucky I don't imitate that.

I may not have many things to elaborate upon until the deck is finished. It's taking top priority for me right now. But the good news is that it's close to being finished. And that keeps me happy.

I should also re-evaluate my relationship with chocolate. But I've already kicked booze, cigs and caffeine--gotta draw the taboo line somewhere and preferably not over Hershey's Dark.

Blessed be, guys. I'm going to bed. After I pack for tomorrow's Tarot function.

Event!!!!

Hey Guys!!!

Blogging, for the first time since the invention of blogging, has fallen off my mental plate for awhile. But! I am thankful the Goddess invented blogging. Because it will help me promote this event. You should come. It was invented just for you!

Ethical Spellcraft: A Discussion
Date: Saturday, April 25, 2009
Time: 4:00pm - 6:00pm
Location: WOW Cafe Theater 59-61 East 4th Street, 4th Floor New York, NY
Cost: $10 Suggested Donation

SPACE IS LIMITED! RESERVATIONS STRONGLY RECOMMENDED: courtneyaweber@gmail.com

Description
When to cast? When to bind? When even....to curse? Witches today are flooded with information on spells--but when is it necessary to use them? Are love spells really "white magick" or manipulative? Is binding really "black magick" or does it prevent harm? When you send someone good energy, for whose good is it for? How can we use magick for the greater good of the planet, and what does "greater good" mean? This class opens dialog on the ethics of spellcraft and magick, raising questions every practitioner should ask themselves before casting.

Led by a Witch with more humorously disastrous spell stories than Disney could concoct, this class will not seek to provide rules on when to cast, but help the participants formulate their own questions and better reflect on the best use of their own magick. Class will also provide new spell recipes and group meditation. Great for the novice or the experienced!

This two hour workshop will charge a suggestion donation of $10. Half of all proceeds will go directly to the Wow CafeTheater.

Surprise, surprise.....

They didn't mention Pagan faiths as on the rise....but that's okay. Let's keep under the radar. :)

http://www.cnn.com/2009/LIVING/wayoflife/03/09/us.religion.less.christian/index.html?eref=rss_latest

The Ancients got Down and Dirty with their Hymns...

Sapho's Hymn to Aphrodite

Iridescent-throned Aphrodite, deathless
Child of Zeus, wile-weaver, I now implore you,
Don't--I beg you, Lady--with pains and torments
Crush down my spirit,

But before if ever you've heard my pleadings
Then return, as once when you left your father's
Golden house; you yoked to your shining car your
Wing-whirring sparrows;

Skimming down the paths of the sky's bright ether
On they brought you over the earth's black bosom,
Swiftly--then you stood with a sudden brilliance,
Goddess, before me;

Deathless face alight with your smile, you asked me
What I suffered, who was my cause of anguish,
What would ease the pain of my frantic mind, and
Why had I called you

To my side: "And whom should Persuasion summon
Here, to soothe the sting of your passion this time?
Who is now abusing you, Sappho? Who is
Treating you cruelly?

Now she runs away, but she'll soon pursue you;
Gifts she now rejects--soon enough she'll give them;
Now she doesn't love you, but soon her heart will
Burn, though unwilling."

Come to me once more, and abate my torment;
Take the bitter care from my mind, and give me
All I long for; Lady, in all my battles
Fight as my comrade.

Had a talk last night with the Goddess

Aided by the use of a particular substance, I asked Jesus for forgiveness. Not for anything in particular. Out of habit. He didn't answer.

So, I asked the Goddess for forgiveness. Not for anything in particular--but old habits die hard.

"I don't need to forgive you," She said. "I never thought you needed forgiveness to start with."

Running a group....

Is hard.

There isn't a way around it. It's tough.

Beyond the questions of accepted decorum, beyond the constant configuration of different personalities merging, it's easy to lose track of what the Group or Coven came together to do in the first place--lead people to their spiritual path.

When you focus on the big message, it's so much easier. It's all the little bullshit ("Whose salt do we use??? What's the protocol here? Shouldn't we invoke Her as Hecate as opposed to Tlachta?")

The little things separate us from the Spirit. And makes it all the more difficult.

This is not how you pick up a Witch.

Or a chick, rather. Any chick. Sorry for my passive aggressive approach to the guy who found me through Witchvox.com and is probably reading this. But this just isn't how you get a strange woman to respond.

Hi
I am a guy, 33 y old... You are very pretty. Now because just 2 lines dont look good...i am going ask questions

Which planet you are referring to ? "The" planet? There are so many.

I like alien race :)

Thoughts on St. Ignatius and the passing of my friend, Sally.

A nut. A masochist. Of course, he ended up detailing an excellent number of exercises which are meant to be life changing and I look forward to trying them. But he seemed to have subjected himself to a bunch of things that are rather unnecessary. I don’t have a lot of patience with people who continue to throw away the things that God hands to them. I see the point in throwing away riches in order to better know the power of the Universe, as the possessions, to quote “FightClub”, the things you own, end up owning you. Great. So throw away and know the Universe will provide. But then to throw them away again when you’ve got them? Mooching off everyone else’s hard earned resources? I imagine that that would annoy God, but maybe it’s all about that my Mom hated it when I would give away my things to other kids. Or spend my money on other people. “But Mom, that’s what JESUS would have done!!!” Then again, it wasn’t my money to spend and give to others, but hers. And it’s not like the kids down the street were starving when I gave them half a box of Honeycomb cereal. I felt bad for them because their Mom never let them have sweets, so I shared with them. Mom wasn’t mad about that, but because I gave away the cereal she bought. So, if we’re in need, and the Universe provides—is it foolish to throw it away and just expect that the Universe will provide again?

What’s funny though, is when I’m generous with my money and possessions, I end up with more money and possessions—that I inevitably end up giving away. I read Tarot for money and while much of this money goes to project that end up affecting my spiritual Group or supporting projects the Gods have assigned me to, I make sure to give a piece to charity, and make sure I give away a reading once in awhile.

Once, I gave away a striped scarf my mother gave me to a woman whose birthday it was. I didn’t know the woman hardly at all, but the scarf looked so much better on her with her outfit than it did on mine. I felt bad at first, but it wasn’t a scarf Mom had spent a lot of money on. Mom and I butt heads about the use of possessions.

I don’t know. I really hate Trustifarians and St. Ignatius of Loyola reminded me of one of those—given the riches of the world and turning them away to go on a journey. But yet, his was one to find the power of God and share it with other people. Not just to heap it on himself. And who am I to criticize the path the Universe has laid out for another person.

I was in the middle of writing this when I learned that a friend of mine passed away. It’s very hard to criticize a saint who lived long ago when a saint who you’ve known so well has just passed out of physical existence.

Maybe bitching about St. Ignatius and butting ideological heads with my mother isn’t the best use of my time.

I look forward to sharing my stories about Sally. But I think for now, I’m going to make it a quiet night, and go about my business. Last night I met a man who didn’t speak for a day as a way to learn to listen. I will not be speaking for the rest of the night as a way to honor the person I loved, whose voice will not be heard again.