Little Imbolc on the Prairie

February 7th, 2010

Credit: Llewellyn's Witches Calendar

Imbolc. We Pagans and Wiccans that follow the traditional Wheel of the Year typically learn at the beginning of our studies that Imbolc heralds the start of spring, the first stirrings of the Earth after the long lonely winter has passed….

Really??

I live on the Canadian prairies. As I’m writing this, at around 800 pm CST, it’s very dark outside…the light is slowly starting to return, but at such a snail’s pace that it is barely noticeable unless you closely track it. We, and several of the northern US states, recently had a dump of snow, or a “blizzard” to the states that experience this as unusual activity (to us, this is relatively normal..), so it looks more like Yule than spring out there. The snow is still gently falling against the blackness as I write. It frusterates me. I admit it. I’m not a winter person. I’m a summer girl. I love the ocean, and the bright sun, and the sand…. I long for summer. I long for spring. I long for the green grass and leaves.

Imbolc promises it’s coming. As an educated woman who has seen 31 turns of the Wheel, I “know” that it’s coming. I know spring will come again, followed by summer. I know that the trees won’t stay barren forever and that the leaves will somehow, miraculously, burst from the branches that look like lifeless twigs within the weeks to come. I know that the sun will somehow grow stronger and melt all of the huge snowdrifts. That nature will somehow hear some soundless signal that will allow the temperatures to rise from the minuses to the pluses again.

I often wonder how it all works. How nature knows. How Mother Nature doesn’t get confused and “Forget” that spring is supposed to come, and leave us with endless winter. Sometimes, in my child’s heart, I fear that that might happen. Or, with that same childish wishing heart, I hope that Mother Nature will forget that winter is supposed to come, and leave us with endless summer.

Oh, I’m educated. I went to school, all the way through to University. I was never a sciences or maths person (blech..I deeply respect them, and those that are good at them, but as someone with Dyscalculia, the maths and sciences were always a huge stumbling block for me and I never enjoyed them as a result.), but I know the basics of the environment, of Biology, of the “why’s”.

But, I think one of the wonders of being Pagan is that we retain that same awe and wonder about the seasons, about the processes of life, the same respect and awknowledgement that the life processes around and within us are all great mysteries, and part of The Great Mystery,that our ancesestors did. I’m not saying that this is exclusive to the Earth-centered religions, but us Pagans and our sisters and brothers that follow the Earth-centered paths have a unique perspective of the cycles of life. We don’t just see them as created by Deity…we see them AS Deity Itself. Goddess didn’t just make the seasons..She IS the seasons. Pagans today aim to view the seasons and the natural world with the same wonder and awe as the first people did when the viewed a lightening storm in all its glory, or the ocean pounding the shore, or a snowstorm blanketing the earth. The seasons changing, or a baby’s development in the womb and first breath, or the bird’s ability to soar to incredible heights, is no less miraculous today because we can scientifically explain them;all that science does is explain the mechanics. The mechanics still happen, and the miracles still unfold within.

But back to Imbolc.I promise it all ties in. :)

I think that those of us that live in climates where we might not “see” the changes of spring as early or as dramatically as other places, which includes those where the seasons might not be as marked as they are in my climate, might question if the lessons of Imbolc really apply to us. I promise you, they really can.

Imbolc translated means “Fire in the belly” : the beginning of new life. The start of something. Catalyst, ignition, conception, a seed. Imbolc to the Celts is also the celebration of the Great Goddess Brighid, She who is Healer,Muse, Poetess, Smith, Great Mother. Imbolc is the seed: the start of something. The seed isn’t always visible. We can’t always see what is going on far beneath the earth, the stirrings of what is beginning. When a child is first conceived, most don’t know right away that a great change is happening. When a great idea or business plan is first conceived, a great deal of work lies ahead: the idea might just be a thought crossing someone’s mind. All of the inventions and progression we see today started with one idea; often an idea that others might have called crazy or impossible. It all seems impossible at first. The idea of spring coming out of a cold, snowy winter;colorful flowers, green trees, balmy breezes, springing out of a snowy, cold, barren land would seem ridiculous to someone that had never heard or seen the concept.

Gardners understand this. Giant, ugly bulbs that look like onions will bloom into e beautiful, blooming rose bushes. Seeds in seemingly gross,smelly manure will burst into vegetables. What is seemingly meaningless or unseen will become seen and transformed.

THAT’S the message of Imbolc. We, too, have the chance to be transformed. It will take some belief on our part. We have to start moving as the Earth does. Put away our “big people” logic and over-thinking for awhile and just give over to the cycles. What is unseen now that we wish to bloom in the coming spring? What do we wish to plant? No matter what we do, we are planting something. If we are thinking negatively…and we’ve all been there…i.e. “I will never get out of debt” , “I will never get a good job”, “That’s just notpossible”"…we’re planting those seeds of doubt, that will grow to full-grown weeds that will overgrow, take over, crowd and choke our goals before we can even plant them in our garden. What to do? Go through and pull them at the root. When they threaten to take over, repeat to yourself, “I’m planting the seeds of positivity”. The more you say positive things to yourself, the more your brain starts to be retrained.

Picture that garden in your mind, now nicely pruned of the weeds and self-doubt. The doubts will still come, so don’t worry about them. Just keep your pruning shears at the ready and pluck them when they come ’round; if you catch them right away, they won’t take root. Every garden gets some.

Ok..now..what do you want to plant? How’s the soil looking? Do you need to water your garden (mind)? Try doing some meditation. Five minutes a day. That’s it. Stand outside for five minutes. Look at the moon or the sun, and breathe in nature, taking in the elements, talk to the Goddess and God (in your head our out loud, as you can). Or, if you prefer indoors, sit at your altar or sacred space, and just sit and drink in the presence.

Think of what you want to plant this season. Invision what you want to bloom. What you want to nurture throughout the seasons this Wheel. It might change. Don’t have heart failure if it does..just picture what you want for now, and it will grow with you. Plant the seed, and nurture it every day in your meditation. Water it. Keep the area clean. Talk to your seed. Nuture it with positive thoughts.

No matter what your climate, no matter how unbelievable it might seem that spring is on its’ way…somewhere…deep inside….your spirit knows. Water that hope. Keep it going. The snow might be on the outside, but the seed is stirring deep within the Earth.

(image is freeware from internet, please contact me if you know of credit)

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Turning Outward…

February 3rd, 2010

Little darling
It’s been a long, cold, lonely winter
Little darling
It feels like years since it’s been here

Here comes the sun
Here comes the sun, and I say
It’s alright

-The Beatles, “Here Comes the Sun”

As those wise bards said, and as another wise one said, the great JRR Tolkein, “Not all who wander are lost”…I’m here! I haven’t wandered far, but I’ve felt like I’ve been “there and back again”, to continue on the whole hobbit theme.

It’s been an interesting winter for me to say the least. And, as always, on this amazing spiritual journey, everything has perfectly reflected in an “as above, so below” fashion. Even when things are going badly, and I’m tearing my hair out and running in circles like the proverbial chicken without their proverbial head, I can’t help but stop and smile when I see just how perfectly everything on our journey reflects. What we do here, is truly reflected in the spirit realm. Medical practitioners, those of the “hard sciences”, are just discovering today what our ancestors knew hundreds, even thousands of years ago- that our mind, body, and spirit are all interconnected; what happens on one plane, happens on another.

Yesterday, over a cold drink at our favorite googleplex coffee place that shall remain nameless, my best friend and I were discussing the same thing. How we can’t compartmentalize issues. We can’t just look at how and why our home life, for example, is going to hell in a handcart without examining our work, health, and relationships. If a patient presents with certain symptoms at the ER, those are treated first, but next, the doctor should look at WHY these are presenting; what’s happening in their lives? It goes beyond the chemical reasons and those that show up on the lab tests. Of course these need to be treated; but why are they showing up on the lab tests?

As well as being trained as a Priestess, I’ve been trained as a clinical social worker. More of the “As above, So Below” evidence is there: my Priestess training occured very much in tandem with my social work training. I received my First Degree from my first coven in 2002, right after I started my social work academic training. I started with the Sacred Mists in 2005, after I went into the “real world” of child welfare after graduating from the “ivory tower” of academia and the relative comfort of practicum training. I rolled with the punches (sometimes, almost literally..) of being a new social worker in a broken and very real and stressful system as I also learned to be a Priestess in a real world. And they both helped me tremendously. And the training and the lessons? As above, so below.

Second Degree. My very first HPS warned me that Second Degree meant facing your “very worst shadows right in front of you.” I nodded and claimed back then I was ready. I entered social work, and Wiccan training, a lot like Maverick on one of my favorite movies, “Top Gun”. Oh, I was respectful. Don’t get me wrong. I loved the Goddess and God, and my coven. Sacred Mists was the first place I felt truly at home, and I respect and respected Lady Raven and the Council like none other. But I was also confident. “Larger than life” like Maverick. I had had a decade of being a Witch. I had not exactly lived a cushy life. I’d been through hell and lived to tell the tale. I was independent. I was strong. I could make it. Worst shadows? Ha. I was ready! I wanted to be a High Priestess! I’d taught students! I’d been good at it! I’d had my own circle. I could do it.I just knew it. I was going “mach 3 with the wind in my hair”, just like Maverick.

And just like the young pilot, the Goddess had to put a stopper in my jet engine, and let me come down to earth. And I crashed. And it was a “hell of a spin”, just like Maverick. I went back to ground zero, like I had done a few times before, but clearly needed to again. My relationship at the time, which was really a big sham, got exposed for what it was and I packed up and left. But, I did get reunited with a wonderful man and we got handfasted that Lammas..and we are still together today. I ended up having to declare bankruptcy, as during my “larger than life” period I also seemed to think I had endless funds. I ended up getting sick-very sick- and being off work. And living in poverty. A poverty I’d never experienced before. We’d never had much growing up, but we always had food. and clothes. Now, we were worried about our next meal, and how medicine would be covered. Stuff I never thought about before. My car got repo’d. My so-called friends suddenly vanished. A job that I thought I loved and that the people were like family? Well, suddenly it was as if they were all wearing masks, and the masks dropped when my chips were down…and it revealed their true selves. Selves that suddenly weren’t interested in me any more now that I was “broken”

Then something else happened. I learned that a big part of the Maverick persona for me, the girl that could do anything, was really part of my being sick. I had bipolar disorder. A long odyssey was to follow-and is really still going on. I finally found a good specialist and the right meds that slowly are unlocking the combo to my brain. There are good days, and bad days.And tired days.And side effect days. But I’m getting there.

Towards the close of the Second Degree, I had to smile.I had felt so scared when I saw the cocky young personna slipping away. Was my confidence going? I saw that for a bit I became more timid. I was questioning myself. Could I lead that rite? Could I write that meditation? Oh geez, did I do okay in that study hall? Then, slowly, and still, it’s becoming a balance. I remember at the end of “Top Gun”, after Goose dies (which still makes me cry) when Maverick approaches his teacher about graduation. He then shows up for convocation and learns to fly again, and becomes an instructor. He’s still got the old fire, but he’s not quite the cocky, full-of-crap pilot he used to be. He’s matured.

That’s becoming me. Now that I’m into the Third Degree…I’m turning outward. I’m rubbing my eyes and finally coming out of my shadows. I’m seeing what needs to be “cleaned up”..in my house, in my life, in my relationships, in the world. I’m learning balance. I realize that I should be questioning how I’m doing, if I’m doing ok, am I doing my mentees justice, etc. It’s not about me, it’s about them, it’s about balance. Maverick learned that it wasn’t just him ripping through the skies doing mach 3; it was about teamwork and fairness, and friendship. I always knew that, don’t get me wrong.My problem was I was either selfish or selfless: doing too much for self or not enough for self. I’m finding my footing.

Third Degree, so far, to me is finding new glasses. At first, it was like putting on 3 D specs and seeing the world as it should be for the first time and being amazed. Second, was taking off the glasses, and having to turn in and do the “nitty gritty” and clean the interior windows. At Third, I get a new pair of glasses: I can see in and out at the same time, and have to learn to balance the two.

I may not be there yet, but with the help of my wonderful HPS Lady Raven and my brothers and sisters in the Mists, I’m well on my way. :)

Thank you, Starhawk…

October 31st, 2009

…as always, you are brilliant!!

The True Spirit of Halloween, for Real Witches

Halloween is here again. Pumpkins deck our porches and Witches in pointy hats swoop across the walls of classrooms and offices. Children accost one another, asking “What are you going to be for Halloween?” and grownups stock up on candy.

But for real Witches, Halloween has a deeper, spiritual meaning. Who are the real Witches? Those of us who practice the pre-Christian, nature and Goddess-centered spiritual traditions indigenous to Europe and the Middle East. For us, Halloween, or Samhain (pronounced Sau-in) to use the old Celtic term, is our New Year — the end of harvest in agricultural communities and therefore the beginning of the new cycle. At this time, we say that ‘the veil is thin’ that separates the seen from the unseen, the world of the living from the world of the dead. So this is the season when we honor the ancestors, mourn those who have died this year, and celebrate life.

Here in San Francisco, our Reclaiming tradition of Wicca (another term for the religion of the Witches) creates a big, public ritual, with art, music, poetry and dance weaving together to create sacred space. We name those who have died this year, and offer a chance for mourners to grieve with the support of our community. For us, death is a natural part of life. We acknowledge the sadness of our losses, but death itself is not something to fear. It’s simply one stage in the great cycles of birth, growth, death and rebirth that to us are sacred.

The heart of our ritual is the spiral dance, when over a thousand people dance together in a double spiral that symbolizes rebirth and regeneration. Moving together, passing one face after another, we enter together into a state of deep connection and ecstasy.

This year marks the Thirtieth Anniversary of our Spiral Dance ritual–and of the publication of my book, “The Spiral Dance: A Rebirth of the Ancient Religion of the Great Goddess.” In those years, our community has grown from a handful of us celebrating in our living rooms to an international network. Thirty years ago, information about Wicca and the Goddess was difficult to find and most Witches practiced in secrecy. Today, books, music, videos and networks abound — in part thanks to the internet. Wicca and our related Pagan traditions have begun to take the place they deserve among the spiritual traditions of the world.

So this Halloween, we urge you to take a break from the ghouls and the ghosts and learn something about real Witches. Below are links to my website, where you can find my books, including my latest, “The Last Wild Witch,” a picture book for young children published by Mother Tongue Ink, as well as many other resources. Enjoy, and may this season bring you comfort in grief, hope in sorrow, a strong vision for the future and the strength, support, and resources you need to act in service of what you love.

http://.starhawksblog.org/

On my blog for October 28 you will find many links to videos about Halloween and our Spiral Dance ritual.

www.reclaiming.org
Our website for our international network. Find classes, rituals and community contacts near you.

www.reclaimingspiraldance.org/
Information, history, pictures and videos from the Spiral Dance.

www.witchvox.com
Witches’ Voice–a great resource for general information on Wicca and Paganism.

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Blessed, Blessed Samhain!

October 30th, 2009

BLESSED SAMHAIN/CALAN GAEF to all of my dear friends that celebrate it. I have so much to be thankful for this harvest, and you are all included in those thanks! May your new year be blessed by the Lord and Lady with brilliance and abundance!!

For all celebrating, have a safe and happy Halloween!

Namaste.

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Upon Each Samhain

by David O. Norris

I miss you most upon each Samhain
When the boundary turns to sheer
I wait until the veil is parted
At the ending of the year.
Sweet spirit, as you walk among us
At the tolling of this eve
I see your face beyond the sunset
And hear your voice upon the breeze.

In the glowing of the candle
From the shadow on the wall
I watch for you in every movement
And hear your footsteps in the hall.
Can you sit and spend the evening
As the portal opens wide?
Ancestral dead, I bid you welcome.
Most recent dead, I pray, abide.

When you come I sense your presence
I put my hand out in the air
A moment, then, we stand united
Palm to palm while waiting there.
I miss you most upon each Samhain
When the boundary turns to sheer
We share these hours until the dawning
Then bid farewell until next year.

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The Tarologist…er…Counselor..is in!

October 24th, 2009

Once upon a time, when I was 14, I went to go have my cards read by a lady named Elvira. She had a little table set up at the shopping mall, and I’d seen her on a local cable access television show, eager and excited to peer into my future.

At 14, I was spellbound (no pun intended) by all things spiritual;I was a devout Catholic (at that time) who came from a long line of psychic, spiritual, strong and visionary women. I had access to a deep well of spiritual support and ideas. I’d been taught pretty much from birth by my mother and grandmother to do things like interpret dreams, bless homes, ask the saints for “favors” and to trust my psychic sight, which showed signs of emergence from a time too early for me to remember.

These women were all Catholics and would never DREAM of calling themselves witches (at least, the ones I knew or knew of), but that’s the best way to describe them. My mother always made me think of a country “root woman”; we would go to her first with any illness, and with the senses of a seasoned ER nurse in triage, she seemed to always know what to do. She knew whether it warranted a cup of tea or a trip to the doctor. She could brew up a “cure” in no time flat. She says this came from growing up poor and having to use things around the house to heal with as there was no money for anything else, but we knew it was more than that.

My Grandma also read tea leaves. She made you take the cup in your left hand, face it down, and turn it three times. She would then read amazing things in the cup, and show them to you, saying things like, “I see a big dog and a dollar bill in your path..don’t you see it?” All I saw was a clump of wet-looking tea leaves in the bottom of a cup, but Grandma saw visions and stories, and was usually right. We all loved the story of how she read tea leaves at a party and saw a red haired woman and a man in uniform in one of the women’s teacups there. The woman was infuriated and reamed out my grandmother and the people there, thinking they’d told her some gossip and were playing a joke on her, but Grandma insisted she knew nothing. After she stormed out, someone whispered to her that the woman’s husband, who was a firefighter or police officer( I can’t remember which) was having an affair with a red haired woman!

So, I grew up with this stuff. There was nothing strange about it for me. I didn’t realize that other people didn’t interpret their dreams, or that they weren’t believed when they had a psychic sixth sense or it was common knowledge that dead relatives came to talk to you, until I was older. The women of my family, a wonderful blend of Metis spirituality still exisiting in vestal memory and “superstitious” Catholics, where my first whispers to enter the world of witchcraft.

But I digress. Back to Elvira’s table. Elvira told me amazing things. She said that I would meet a boy over spring break, that he’d just broken up with his blond girlfriend who had given him a present made of glass. Being eager to meet a guy and have a “real boyfriend” and all that came with it at that age, I was ecstatic.

What was even more awe-inspiring is that it came true. Over spring break, I met up with a friend of a friend that I’d had a giant crush on and had drooled at across the pews at the church where I attended Mass. He had just broken up with a blonde girl, and when I asked him about a present made of glass, he jumped and said that she had given him a glass heart.

The relationship wasn’t much, of course. We met at the mall a few times and it was over in a few weeks, but she had been RIGHT! I felt a call to work with the Tarot, but was told it was “evil” and to “be careful”. The very same women that practiced superstitions I so admired told me that Tarot was different and from the devil. It confused and scared me, but I was still drawn to it.

I first picked up tarot cards when I was sixteen. I read the little booklet that came with them and tried to read them. I noticed right away that I didn’t really need the book. The meanings seemed to change for different people I read for. At first, it was just “playing” but it slowly evolved into a real practice.

At age 24, when I had my first Initiation into a now-dissolved coven, the High Priestess gave me an incredible tarot reading and told me that I had some real talent. She advised me to not even look at the books and to spend time meditating on each card. Being an impatient Leo, the idea of spending time meditating on each card sounded excruciating. But, I tried, I spent time picturing the major arcana and seeing them as “personalities”. Like most things a good High Priestess suggests, it was very helpful.

I continued my readings and people told me I was accurate most of the time. I found that Tarot was more like an “anchor” to help me to know more about the person and that random images would come to mind. At first, I wouldn’t say them as they sounded “silly”, but in time I realized that what might seem silly to me, would mean something to someone else, and to listen to my gut. Everything in a reading unfolds for a reason.

I now read the cards frequently just like Elvira did, for others (although I have no card table in the mall, or a TV show.) I find though that reading the cards for others normally isn’t like the cliches in movies, where the Gypsy woman, mysterious and darkly beautiful, reads people their fate in a deliciously creepy low voice. It becomes not so much about the cards, and more like spiritual counseling.

My background as a professional social worker comes in very handy. People normally aren’t just flocking to the fortune teller for kicks (Although some do, and that’s ok)..they are often coming with deep, searching questions that they are seeking. They are often looking for the counsel that the mundane world often doesn’t have; they’re seeking the same way that the ancient Greeks flocked to the Priestess at Delphi, wishing for guidance and counsel in their lives. It’s much more than just throwing the cards and telling someone what sign they are. People come looking for real direction and help. People all seem to remember, at some base quantum level, that they are spiritual beings on a human journey, and they are looking for ways to conenct with that spiritual self. We might just think that getting our cards done or having our astrological chart drawn,or even reading our daily horoscope, is just for fun. But I really think it’s a subconscious search for something deeper. We’re looking for what was once our birthright, stamped into our DNA. Once upon a time, people read the stars and the ocean and the land for answers. They went to see a wise woman for healing and wellness. If they needed counsel, a Priestess could show them what lay in front of them and help them to find their way. People lived in communities and relied on one another for wellness.

After the witchcraze in the 1400’s that swept most of Europe and the United States, the wise woman was silenced out of fear of what people didn’t understand, and due to the Church trying to amass property and put power in the hands of a few wealthy men. God wasn’t availiable through the land anymore; that was evil. God was a solemn, stern man with a beard that commanded people to live a certain way..or else. Doctors replaced the midwives and root women. Old spiritual practices such as the Beltane fires and planting crops according to the phase of the moon were considered silly superstitions from a simpler and less educated time. People moved “forward”, or at least they thought they did.

Progress marched on through the industrial era and so on and so on. Many gains were made for enhancing quality of life. People lived longer and were healthier. But, something else had been lost..the wisdom of the Old Ways. They were reduced to superstition and folk practices at best, and evil, dangerous deceptions of the devil at worst. People fought to forget their roots and it showed as the land grew more polluted and strained over time. Land was to be conquered, not to be honored.

But deep down, we remember. Deep down, we all yearn for answers. Jesus himself said to read the signs of the times in the land around us, contrary to what many fundamentalists will preach. People have forgotten to read the signs of the seasons and the land, to look for their answers in the stars. To see God within all things, not just in a building constructed by human beings.

I’m convinced people are led to what is now called “occult” out of a quest to reconnect to their old knowledge and wisdom that still speaks to them on some level, even if it whispers and is barely audible. I know that sometimes, in a flash of enlightenment, I see myself not as an ordinary tarot reader in jeans..but as a Priestess at Delphi, robed and veiled, reading and sharing the visions I have and helping people to perhaps begin to see the Old Ones again.

It’s a tremendous honor, and one that I don’t always feel worthy of. It’s not something that makes me “better” than anyone or more special; it’s simply part of who I am and what I am studying and learning constantly to become. I really think that I was meant to be a Priestess, the same way some were meant to be a doctor or a teacher. These are gifts that were handed to me from my genetics and that I am trying to hone into skills to help others. With every reading, I learn something myself…and feel more and more of a connection to those far away Priestesses, who sat on a clefted rock and spoke from the Goddess. They aren’t far away at all, if we learn to but listen to them in the echoes of the natural world all around us.

Namaste.

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On Initiation

October 16th, 2009

My Sister Priestess in the Sacred Mists wrote a beautiful piece in her journal about the topic of Initiation.
Today, we welcomed several of our brothers and sisters into the Priest/esshood of the Sacred Mists, as they Initiated to the First Degree. I offer them the warmest of congratulations and welcome them into the Coven and the Service of the Lord and Lady with all my heart.

Naturally, this started me thinking about Initiation and what this means to me, and what this means to the larger Wiccan community.

I think that there is a need to stress the seriousness and importance of what Initiation is and what it means. It is not simply a ritual to welcome someone into a group like joining a sorority or fraternity. It isn’t just being accepted by a coven, or awknowledging the end of a period of study with a ritual. It’s not like a convocation, either. Initiation is nothing less than crossing a spiritual threshold, pulling back a veil and moving to the other side, with no ability to turn back. It is taking a Sacred Oath to the Gods and Goddesses, and to all of the Universe. It is an unending bond between you and your coven mates. It pledges loyalty to your Tradition and a serious decision to walk that Tradition with honor, joy, honesty, and sincerity.

My first Initiation was at Ostara 2002. I had been studying with a group called Circle of the Goddess (COTG) via distance for over two years. In a brave and brazen (and risky, “crazy” as some said) move, I flew alone to the United States, something I had never done before, to be Initiated by Priest/esses that I had never met in person but had studied with intently for some time. I was to stay at the home of my High Priest and Priestess (Who were also a married couple) in Santa Clara, California, somewhere I had never been.

To say that those first steps beyond the curtain to Initiation was life shattering, deeply moving, profoundly emotional and filled with joy and reverence would be understatements. I cannot and will not ever divulge the secret rites that I went through during those miraculous days, but suffice to say, I was transformed.

Time passed, the group disbanded, and I was left feeling adrift and like I had no spiritual compass anymore. I started an eclectic circle which did not last long. I tried being a solitary, but something felt missing. I even tried to go back to the Catholic Church of my youth, as I was feeling like I didn’t know who or what I was anymore.That didn’t work, and I found myself longing for more direction and for a place that I truly felt would be my spiritual home.

But part of me remembered who I was, and what I was called to. I practiced again as a solitary and searched for the right tradition. I finally found what was to be my true spiritual home one autumn some five or six years ago now; The College of the Sacred Mists.

As I have mentioned several times on this blog, the Sacred Mists is home to me like none other; from the moment I was exploring the College, I *knew* in my heart that I had found my spiritual home and family, and that I wanted to be a part of the Tradition when I was able. A year and a day followed, a time where I grew closer to the Sacred Mists family and my desire to Initiate grew stronger. I grew and flourished as a Dedicant of the Sacred Mists.

When Initiation was offered, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I wanted to be a Priestess of the Sacred Mists. When I Initiated with several of my brothers and sisters of the Mists, it was the most pivotal experience spiritually for me; I had come home, I had drawn back the veil and seen the face of the Goddess, and felt honored, blessed, and deeply joyful to be a Priestess in this beautiful tradition.

I continued my study and service to the Tradition, and am now a Third Degree Dedicant. I know that when it is offered, my Second Degree Initiation will be an experience like none other. I take my responsibilities as a Priestess of the Sacred Mists very seriously, with reverence and awe. I see this as a calling to be a teacher, leader, and mentor to others. I’m honored to be accepted by and to be a part of this beautiful tradition that is truly my spiritual home and family.

As it says in one of my favorite quotes from “The Mists of Avalon”, which the title of this blog comes from;

“How do you write of the making of a priestess? What is not obvious is secret. Those who have walked that road will know, and those who have not will never know though I should write down all the forbidden things.”

Being a Priestess is something that you become and that you are. It is not a “job” where you turn out the lights, lock the door, and head home at the end of the day. You are a Priestess 24/7. Being a Priestess becomes as much a part of you as your backbone is. You are one that serves the Gods, that teaches and is a mentor to others. Most of all, you are one that has agreed to take on every experience in life. Phyllis Curott, a well-known Wiccan High Priestess and author, says in her book “Book of Shadows” that a shaman is like a wounded healer; you can’t learn to heal others until you’ve learned to heal yourself.

To me, this says that we will go through many trials. And I have, and will, and I have the knowledge that they are all sent to craft me to Her service. In the myth of the descent of Inanna, She has to get rid of all the external trappings that are important to her: clothing, jewels, and prestige, in order to become a Queen. So must we. Our spiritual studies mirror what unfolds in our lives, and vice versa..it is all connected. That is why it is such a serious and important decision to be Initiated; we will be changed forever, and there will be many joys but also many challenges.

I know that a Priestess is what I was born to be, what I have been created for. I remember a Priest at my first Initiation said; “With every step your feet kiss the Mother Earth. Make every step count.”

I shall try, for the honor and joy of the God and Goddess, and for the Sacred Mists Tradition that I love so dearly.

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Rest assured, I am not getting lazy…

September 27th, 2009

….I love my new Twitter account, but I’m not going to allow my two-second tweets to take over my blog. This week, I’ve just been very reflective and “inward” to the point where writing is difficult. But I shall try.

The veil is thinning the more we move towards Samhain. I can feel autumn coming all around me, and the physical signs are here; the other day when I went for a walk, the leaves were crunching under my feet, and were beautiful colors of gold and burnished auburn. The wind is starting to blow cooler, the night temperatures are dipping. We had a rare late summer here. I live on the Canadian prairies, so winter often comes very early here, with a brief fall in between. It’s never long enough for me. I’m a summer girl through and through, but I do love the fall; I love the colors, the wind, the falling leaves, sweaters, anything pumpkin..but it’s always over too quickly, and the winter snow sometimes is with us before Samhain (everyone here remembers at least one Halloween where their costume had to be worn over a snowsuit, and they are typically purchased to accomodate one.). So, the fall is brief.

But I think that, like all things in nature, there’s a lesson to be learned from this.

I remember when I had the good fortune to go to the Mayan Riviera in Mexico, one January years ago. Every day I was there, I kept thinking of how I had to make it last. How when I got home, it was going to be -30 Temps with snowbanks up to my hips. When I lay in a hammock on the most beautiful beach I’d ever seen, I was dreading the fact that in a couple more days I would be heading back home, back to university, my practicum and my part-time job. Back to stress. Back to “real life”.

The problem is that the whole time I wasn’t fully there. I was somewhere else. Instead of enjoying the moment, I kept thinking about what would happen when it ended.

Being someone that struggles with anxiety disorder, that is par for the course with the way my mind works. Or, rather, wants to work.

But am I at the mercy of that? No. Wicca has helped me to see that there are ways to change your thinking. Dion Fortune defined magick as the act of changing your consciousness at will. That’s where the magick starts; within our thinking. The law of attraction isn’t some fancy, new agey concept that will cost you hundreds, or even thousands, of dollars in books, CD’s, meditation tapes, and seminars; those things can help, but when you want to make real magick, you can start right now. Change your outlook, change your thinking..even if it’s one thought a day.

A fellow Priestess and dearfriend of mine taught me the following trick; be in the moment. Right in the moment. Don’t think even a second ahead. Just now.

Go ahead, try it. I’ll wait.

Not easy,is it? I try to do this at least once a day. Think only of NOW. That’s it. You’ll be surprised how your perception will shift. I’m going to keep trying, too; when I look at the changing leaves and feel the cold,crisp wind blowing, I’m going to think of autumn and not the winter to come. It may be brief, but it’s arguably approaching the most sacred time of year for Witches, when the veil is thinnest, when the living and the dead can almost touch hands , when time and space doesn’t exist…a time of such sensitivity that even the Muggles can feel it. I love Samhain, it’s my favorite sabbat and time of the year, and I’m going to try to enjoy that window in time, before it is frosted with ice and snow.

Namaste, be well!

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Expansion…

September 20th, 2009

..from my last post, as my brain does not appear to wish to be quiet at any point. I’m having the urge to write, and honoring it, as well as enjoying the free-flow of my thoughts into the written word, as it isn’t always so simple.

A little more thoughts on Descent and Mabon, as I dream out loud..

My dreams are becoming so very vivid lately that I’m not sleeping…I’m (astral) travelling. This time of year is very poignant for me and I can feel the veil thinning as surely as I can feel my pulse; it’s a fact, it’s just There. Summer weather is still here, which is very unusual for my corner of the planet, but SO welcome, especially as we had rotten summer weather for the majority of the actual summer months.

As always happens at Descent, memories as bittersweet as apple cider come back to me this year, and rip open wounds that haven’t entirely healed. I’m doing spiritual work both with the SOA (Gold Ray Quest) and with Sacred Mists in that I am preparing for the Journey into the Underworld that is this half of the Wheel. I can remember wondering last year when I’d EVER be done with the darned Underworld; my house of cards seemed to have crashed and burned and left me at Ground Zero several times; I realize that I NEVER will be.The Underworld and Descent are as necessary as Springtime and Emergence; they are all part of the larger Cycle, and need to exist in balance. It’s when we try to think of them as postive/negative or good/bad that we lose out (positive/negative in the good vs. bad sense, not the electrical charge…as in that case, pos/negative is accurate.); both forces are simply there. Necessary. Think of the attraction and repulsion that is in common, everyday magnets; we need both forces. They both make up the Universe. It’s when they fall out of Balance that we run into trouble. I see that now. My life, two years or so ago, was a carefully constructed, “pretty” house of cards. I feared the Underworld and tried to deny the shadow, and that caused things to shift out of balance, and leave me on my ass with nothing else but myself. But it was out of this that I carved out a new life, a more “real” one, and one that has blessed me in many different ways. I lost a lot of outer symbols of success, but gained a lot of inner ones, and a stronger compass and foundation to take me into the future. Those outer symbols can be built up and torn down easily. Look at the awesome and terrible power of a Hurricane or Tsunami: the richest and most beautiful buildings can be destroyed in a few seconds. But the power and strength that lies beneath them, in the earth, in human hearts and energy, stays there and grows.

Often, people seem to think of “bad” or negative things happening as “repayment” or as “punishment”. It’s not. It simply follows the rules of science. I’m a far cry from a scientist, but from my dimly recalled science lessons in high school, I know that for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. I know that everything seeks a balance, and we have to take away or add to it in order for the scales to be equal. That’s all it is: the Universe is simply taking away and adding in response to where we are in terms of balance.

I’m finding it difficult to ground these days. I feel like I’m in the realm of spirit all the time rather than the realm of earth. I know I have to find, in my own words, balance between the two. Right now, though, the astral realm and those within it are so close, I have literally reached out and touched them.

When certain memories still sting and twist and hurt, or flood me with emotions, I know that these are ones I need to work on. But at the same time, I think that they will always be there. I just have to try to remember that, really, I can’t complain because I volunteered; many of these things, besides the ones that were the direct fault of others (i.e. child abuse), happened out of imbalance, or wrongful timing, or that was what my long-ago soul decided to learn this trip around. Serendipity has also been a good friend; I’m reading and uncovering info that I need very easily these days.

Bodiily? I’m exhausted. My intensive spiritual work is knocking me cold physically. I know that I have to try to even the scales at some point, but for right now, as the veil thins, I will try to ground and to work within these energies, as they happen for a reason.

Indeed, once we have crossed the Threshold of Initiation we can never turn back again..and I wouldn’t trade what I have learned and am learning on this beautiful path known as Priestesshood for all of the sunny days in the world. It’s worth it.


All-dewy Sky-sailing Pregnant Moon
who shines for all
who flows through all
light of the world which is yourself
maiden mother crone
the weaver the green one

Seed sower, grain reborn
Antered One come!
Bright sun, Dark death,
Lord of winds, lord of the dance
sun-child, winter born king
Hanged one
Untamed, untamed!
Stag and stallion, goat and bull,
sailor of the last sea, guardian of the gate
lord of the two lands
ever-dying, ever-living, radiance


-Starhawk

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Just call me a Mellon-Collie…or don’t ;)

September 20th, 2009

The fall often does this to me. My mom explained it the best when she said that in the fall, it’s as if transperancies (as in, on the old-style overhead projectors) are placed upon our time and world now; transperancies of the past, far-reaching, and sometimes even of the future.

I can feel the veil thinning acutely. My dreams have been vivid, many of them “travelling” (astral) in which I wake up feeling like I haven’t slept at all. Shielding is an absolute must (I “invented” two new visualizations that came to me suddenly when sheilding: one, being in a transluscent, lusterous white oblong pearl that is hard to negativity and permeable to positivity, when I wish it, as even that can send me into sensory overload. The other one is being within a seed, a grain seed, that only splits when I wish it to.), and sometimes, I find myself feeling so incredibly sad it’s like my heart is literally breaking within me. Why? It’s not depression, or specific “sad things” happening. It’s hard to explain. It’s the time. I feel both joyful and excited, like a kid preparing for a Halloween party, and sedate and mournful, like a Priestess prepearing for a funeral rite. I suppose I really am both.

The past has been coming back to me in a real and sharp way. A picture, notes of a song, etc instantly plunge me into a memory. I heard “Ave Maria” today, and while it always is so beautiful it is mournful to me, it reminded me of a past lost, opportunity missed, and I felt my heart twist and my very soul cry.

Welcome to the world of an empath. I know that the pain of feeling etc is the counter-balance to being able to see and sense things others cannot, or rather, choose not to. It’s been like this since I was small, and has grown more and more the more I learn on my spiritual path. I learn both the tools of protecting myself and the real pain of “knowing”. That is partly why at Initiation, it is often said that it is “better to parish on the blade then to enter the circle unprepared”…if you are unprepared or flippiant about your path, the shadows could well eat you alive. It doesn’t mean “unprepared” in the sense that you have to know everything and understand all; quite the opposite. It means be prepared to step into the abyss and accept all that is there. You will have beauty and purpose beyond measure, but the balance of this is shadow and pain, as that is the essence of life and nature itself.

Some think the pain and shadow are “prices” to pay for having the good things. I used to think that way. I don’t anymore. I see them as simply a balance. In nature, we enjoy the beauty of the turning leaves, but they turn the tree barren and lifeless-looking and hearald the end of summer and the beginning of the autumn. The young laughing God has to grow old and wane in power, and finally die. But He has to do that to be reborn. So do all of us. There’s no “evil”, “karma”, or “price” in any of it..it simply Is. Light and Shadow, Pain and Laughter, Old and Young. None “better than the other”. Just..Is.

I wouldn’t trade being a Priestess for the world. I know that this is what I was born to, what I was meant to do. By being a Priestess, I choose to accept the pain and the light of living, and by sheer understanding, in moments of clarity, it makes both equally beautiful.

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OOOOO..ooooh…Witchy Wars…See How High They Fly…

August 28th, 2009

There’s comfort found within “thinking inside the box” philosophy.
I went to a very conservative Roman Catholic high school. I was coming from a very liberal, Jesuit parish that stressed social justice and religious scholarship over obedience to dogma and strict observation to Catholic teaching. It was quite different at my new school, which was more like a pre-Vatican 2 way of thinking.

Believe it or not,at first I really liked it. We were told exactly what to do and what to believe in order to be “good”. If I had a question, there was an answer. Mortal sins equated Hell, until you repented properly and went to Confession. Your penance was ten Hail Mary’s. You didn’t go to Communion unless you had been to Confession first, and things followed the letter of Catholic Canon. No questions.

I liked the throwback, first of all. I felt like a Catholic in a 50’s movie, with my “modest” plaid kilt and white blouse, with a priest that still gave Absolution in Latin, and where most still didn’t eat meat on Fridays. It felt safe. I didn’t have to question anything, the answers were all cut and dried.

But there was one problem; my brain doesn’t work that way. I had already had years of open-minded and “question everything” values placed into me from childhood; my mother had been a lapsed Catholic who embraced Yogic theory. She told me stories about the Ashrams, where there were images of various “Gods” or teachers, such as Jesus, Krishna, and the Buddha. One could choose to honor God in their own way by relating to the images they felt most comfortable with; all were seen as equals. One teaching of my Mother’s which sticks with me to this day is that “God isn’t some old man with a long white beard sitting on a throne;He is everywhere.”

The Catholic church I attended as a teenager, I was free to debate with the priest. In fact, he enjoyed it. We were told to “question everything, and when we get to the root, that is where our adult faith will be.”

I was led to Wicca at age nineteen through searching for the female face of God. I felt a strong call to Wicca and Paganism, it felt as if these were ways I’d followed before, and were meant to follow now. It was liberating from the dogmatic, fundamentalist ways I had come from in the Catholic Church, where even in my liberal parish, orders came from Rome and certain teachings were not to be questioned, if one wished to remain a Catholic.

So, imagine my surprise when, within this non-dogmatic and multi-faceted religion, I encountered fundamentalism and narrow-mindedness. Just like not every Christian lives by the teachings of Christ, I didn’t expect Wiccans to be perfect. But I also didn’t expect being told that certain ways of practicing Wicca were somehow “wrong” or “lesser than”. That is one didn’t practice according to Gardnerian or Alexandrian tradition, one was practicing “Neo-Wicca”, a phrase often used with disdain by very fundamentalist Wiccans, usually (to my experience), followed by the derogatory insult of “fluffy bunny”, or “newbie”.

I’ve been reflecting this recently after begrudgingly participating in a flame war on an online forum on Wicca. A querent had asked about whether or not online Wiccan classes are worthwhile. I informed that I certainly thought so and told them a little about my chosen tradition, the Sacred Mists, and provided this link for them to learn more. I then sat back and waited for the inevitable fall out.

Yep, it happened. GASP! Said the fundie-Witch. If one is to practice Wicca “properly”, online schools are of no use at all! The comments seemed to deteriorate from there, and I won’t add fuel to the proverbial bale-fire that followed.

I hadn’t said that my way was the only way, or that my chosen tradition was the answer for everyone. I simply told my experience, and stated that it was the right way FOR ME, and that if this person wished quality on-line training, that I recommended the Sacred Mists. I added that yes, I had had several years experience on and offline (not that it should matter one way or the other; the opinion of a new Wiccan and/or a seasoned one should count equally, I think.), and that this was honestly the best tradition and program that I had found out there.

I’m not at all perfect, and am the very first to admit that. But I REALLY don’t understand why people get so caught up on what is “acceptable” Wiccan practice and what isn’t. Squibbling about whether Mary Sue should use an athame or a wand to cast circle, or saying that Rob isn’t “really”Wiccan because he happens to like and read Silver Ravenwolf’s books (Really.That’s happened to me a few times. I, for one,really like Silver’s work and have gotten roasted for it several times.), and arguing that Sharon must be a “fluffy bunny” because she accidently walked deosil instead of widdershins or faced East when it should have been West (It happens…), to me is a waste of time, and the reverse of everything Wicca stands for. Wicca is supposed to be personal and empowering, and a religion where one is allowed to make choices about where and how they worship.

Now, I know what some might say to this. That there ARE central teachings to Wicca, and that those that call themselves Wiccan and practice contrary philosophies do Wicca harm, as they give the wrong impression to others, and that they should be corrected. Well, yeah. If Wanda Witch says that animal sacrifice and dancing naked under the moon in the city park are requirements to being Wiccan, that’s one thing. But if Walter Witch happens to read Silver Ravenwolf,practice online, and not subscribe to every single Gardnerian teaching, that is quite another.

Think of it this way; if we think all Wiccan teaching is garbage unless it came out of Gerald Gardner’s mouth, or that things have to be done just as our forefathers and mothers practiced them in order to be “authentic”..then we are truly limiting ourselves and pretty much guaranteeing that Wicca could go the way of the dodo for our future generations. The Catholic Church has members heading for the hills and great internal division due to its’ archaic teachings on abortion, birth control, and female clergy,among other things. If the masses refuse to accept someone as a Wiccan, or attack their practices because they are different, then we are basically pushing a stick into the spinning wheel of progress.

Wicca is progressive. It’s dynamic. It’s fluid. We DO owe thanks to our forebearers that blazed the trail for Wiccans today. But I honestly think that if Gardner was still around, he’d change a few things to suit the times. Wicca is open to interpretation and can be bent and shaped to how it relates to us personally.

Maybe the Gods are laughing at us for such trivialities. Maybe they point and say, “Look at those silly humans, arguing over what color the altar cloth should be. They’re missing the whole point. A glorious sunset, a mighty rainstorm, and a powerful wind just passed them by and they didn’t even notice..sigh.”

I think that we need to expand the circle a little wider. To realize that Wicca is kind of like ice cream; there are a zillion different flavours, brands, and colors, but in the end…we are all the same.

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