Showing posts with label Sabbats. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sabbats. Show all posts

Saturday, October 31, 2009

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

Monday, September 28, 2009

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.

Friday, September 18, 2009

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.