Meditation Every Day? We Thought Not!

An Expert Offers a Brush-Up on Meditation Basics

by Dianus Blackcat

Meditation is the foundation of pagan spiritual practice, and a basic method to improve our mental and physical state in today’s often stressful and chaotic world. For most pagans, the art of meditation is one of the first skills learned in spiritual practice. Yet for many, the value found in daily meditation exercises is sometimes left by the wayside during the course of our busy lives.

Why meditate every day? Because from pressure to complete tasks at work or school, to world politics, we are bombarded with stressful stimuli every day. That stress can negatively affect both our mental and physical health. Simple meditation exercises, practiced routinely, can counter the negative impact of overstimulation on our minds and bodies.

Mental and physical stresses are experienced together, joined like two sides of the same coin. For example, think of something pleasant, such as a loved one or a sunny afternoon. Immediately we experience the pleasant feelings associated with these images. After thinking of something good, we feel good. If we think of something unpleasant, we conversely experience a negative sensation. We grimace at the news. Pressures on the job give us tension headaches. We use this same mind-body connection in ritual when we take an action in the physical plane to activate the astral. By this principle, meditation can be approached as ritual and magick.

Meditation techniques vary from person to person. Often meditation is put into a religious context. It is not necessary to do so to achieve the benefits of reduced stress, but as pagans, we find that a spiritual dimension to life leads to increased happiness and health. Some practitioners burn incense and play New Age music. Others might sit in various yoga positions and fast or otherwise modify their diet as part of their meditation routine. Despite the variations, virtually all meditation practices do have some attributes in common: a state of deep relaxation, a quieting of mental chatter and a keen awareness of either our internal state or external surroundings.

Many people find it challenging to experience all three of these common attributes at the same time. They may try to silence mental chatter with a forceful effort, only to end up negating their attempt to remain relaxed. They may become so relaxed as to fall asleep, countering their attempt to remain aware. Meditation is not always easy, but the methods are quite straightforward and simple. Even if we have mastered the techniques, like any skill, meditation becomes easier and more rewarding with practice.

Stress is experienced in the body as tension. The origin of that tension can be a mental source, such as the memory of an argument, or a physical source, such as bad weather. What many people forget is that the mental-physical link works both directions. That is, just as our body responds to thoughts, our thoughts will respond to our body. Many people become grouchy when hungry or depressed when overtired. When we reduce the physical tension, we experience a relief of mental tension. Knowing this gives us our first step in successful meditation: deep relaxation.

Step 1: Deep Relaxation

Find a quiet place were you can comfortably sit upright and not be disturbed. It is helpful to have a small kitchen timer or other alarm to keep track of the time for you, so that you are not preoccupied with how long you have been meditating. Take a moment to tense up and then release each muscle group in your body, beginning with your feet, then legs, then gradually moving upward. Twist your torso, then lift and stretch your arms. Finish by moving the muscles in your face to make exaggerated facial expressions. Wrinkle your nose; stretch your mouth. Really let go, but do not strain yourself. Remember to continue breathing deeply. When you draw in a breath, push out from your belly to expand your lungs. Doing so will increase the amount of available oxygen in your lungs, aiding your relaxation. Be sure to exhale fully to prevent dizziness.

After you stretch out and relax, you are usually aware of internal thoughts and feelings more than anything else. We might hear a little voice inside our heads or have a constant internal dialogue going on. We rehash old discussions, worry about unpaid bills and criticize our hair or clothes. This is the mental chatter that we need to quiet from time to time, for it is often the most insidious cause of stress in our lives.

We cannot always control the external events that have an impact on us, but we can do something about our reaction to those events. Silencing the mental chatter can give us just the break we need to help us to view external events more objectively. I believe that an underlying motivation for overstimulation in today’s society is the desire to escape relentless self-dialogue. When we process input, we are distracted away from our egos.

Our egos tend to consume a lot of our energy by worrying about superficial, cultural matters. By adjusting our focus away from them, it helps us to connect to that divine part of ourselves that is a great source of spiritual connection and inspiration. Remembering this gives us our second step in successful meditation: silencing the mental chatter.

Step 2: Silencing Mental Chatter

After having stretched, still breathing deeply in a relaxed way, allow your gaze to fall upon some pleasant, yet emotionally neutral, focal point. I recommend you light a candle ahead of time that you can focus on, but anything pleasing to you is fine. It can be a religious object, a flower or some scenic view. Just look at the object. Do not think about it; just watch it. A candle is useful because it will flicker and change, making it easier to observe without boredom because it changes unexpectedly. Do not make mental notes or judgments. As thoughts come into your mind, simply allow them to pass. Do not attempt to force the thoughts out of your head. You are awake and alive, and thoughts will come to you. Rather, continue to pay attention to your focal object. Watch it as if it is about to jump out at you and you don’t want to miss a thing. By focusing your attention on this single object, time will pass and you will realize that the mental chatter has stopped.

When we calm down the voice of our ego by focusing our attention, we suddenly become aware of a great deal of information that we were missing due to our focus on internal dialogue. For many, that internal dialogue is of a criticizing nature. With that internal critic out of the way, it becomes much easier to face the challenges we may have been suppressing. Facing any hidden or suppressed emotions is the best way to release them from our lives and improve our mental and physical health. Knowing this gives us our third step in successful meditation: keen awareness of either our internal state or external surroundings.

Step 3: Keen Awareness

When observing the focal object of your meditation, allow yourself to also notice your surroundings. Notice the temperature of the air around you. If you are outside, is it calm or windy? Is it hot or cold? Listen for any sounds. Is there traffic on the road outside? Is there a bird singing somewhere? Do you hear some people having a conversation somewhere else in the house? Allow yourself to simply be the observer. You may begin to feel a deep connection with the world around you. You may also have sudden flashes of images from previous or current challenges in your life. Allow yourself to view any memories as if you were watching the events of a fictional character in a movie. Simply observe. The detachment from these images may be difficult at first, but concentrate on remaining relaxed and remembering to breathe deeply.

Meditation is a skill that improves with practice. Regular meditation practice will reduce stress and lead to a happier and healthier outlook on life. For positive results, meditation should be performed every day for at least 15 minutes. Each of us can afford to take 15 minutes out of our day to do something good for ourselves. After a while, you may find that troubles in the news and in life, although still troubling, can be dealt with. When we are relaxed and energized through these exercises, we are more able to face challenges. There may be times when we are particularly upset and might feel that we cannot meditate during a crisis. When we are most upset is precisely the time when we need meditation the most. It will help.

Meditation helps us to understand ourselves because it requires us to carefully pay attention to our inner thoughts as well as the world around us. When we pay attention to the world, we can more fully interact with it. When we can interact with the world, we can change the world and cease to be helpless and fearful. Often we approach the world by talking out our opinions and thoughts, projecting sometimes false ideas on others. Meditation is a way to stop the talking. Simple meditation exercises, when practiced routinely, can counter the negative impact of daily stress on our minds and bodies. When I stopped talking, I listened. When I listened, I heard. Listen, and you will hear a world within and around you, inviting you and loving you, divinely connected.

Planting Seeds at Imbolc

article

By C. Cheek

When I was a student at UW, I walked to class every day from my apartment. Along the way, I’d pass some less-than-beautiful sights; empty lots, alleys, easements, and the crud that gathers near gutters in parking lots. Not to worry, I assured myself, come spring, flowers would grow, filling these ugly spots with bursts of color. But then April came, and May, and June, and the route I walked to school stayed barren. Nature provided the sun, soil and rain, but no one had planted seeds.

Sometimes life just hands us what we need. Sometimes all we have to do is wait. And sometimes we have to do a little helping on our own. An envelope sits in my coat pocket. Inside this envelope are seeds mixed with sand to make them spread farther. Some of the seeds I purchased at stores, some I gathered last summer. Now, whenever I pass a patch of dirt, I’ll sow some of those seeds, and with them, I’ll sow a little hope. Hope is the time between planting a seed and seeing it bloom, or die. Hope is when you hear the phone ring and don’t know yet if it’s your best friend. Hope is the moment between buying a lottery ticket and scratching off that final square. When I was child, my mother often told me that wanting was better than having. It took me many years to find out what she meant. Even if your seeds don’t sprout, even if it’s a telemarketer on the other end of the line, and even if you don’t win the lottery, for a brief moment, possibility shines.

Getting in touch with Imbolc means gathering a kernel of hope. For me, as a writer, this means sending out my manuscripts. I call it “applying for rejection letters.” I read the editor’s requirements, check over my story for loose commas, type up a query letter, double check the spelling of the editor’s name, put the pages in an envelope with an extra SASE, and wait. Query letters have a germination period of about three months. At the end of three months, I’ll usually get a tiny slip of paper, not much bigger than a cookie’s fortune, which reads “Thank you for your submission, but it does not suit our current needs.” These little slips of paper cut me, they wound me, they callously toss aside what I’ve spent months writing. So, I find another name, and send it out again. Why? Why do I keep sending the stories out again and again? Because for three months, I can imagine how great it will feel to get an acceptance letter. In my fantasies, an acceptance letter turns into a three-book contract. My daydreams take root, and soon I’m the next J. K. Rowling, with legions of adoring fans, and respect of fellow authors, and book tours in Europe and then… and then…

And then, most likely, I’ll get a slip of paper, or maybe even a letter written just for me, telling me “No thank you.” But for those three months, the daydreams flourish, as sweet as the bite of chocolate you imagine just before tearing off the foil and wrapper, when the bar of candy lies unopened, waiting in your hand. Hope is rich soil, seeded with maybes. Providence will decide if I happen to write the right letter to the right editor, and if she’s in the mood to read my work. Nature decides if the wildflower seeds I scratched into the mud will grow into seedlings. Even if my efforts don’t bear fruit, I’m guaranteed a period of hope, while waiting to see what happens as the months pass.

The other gardening chore for early spring is pruning. Trees don’t have many ways of communication, but they “know” that sharp loppers shearing off branches early in the year means that it’s time to send out buds and shoots. Roses too, lie dormant in the winter and need the snip-snip of a gardener to wake them up. “Wake up,” I tell them, as I trim off last year’s growth. Inside the house, I peer out the window at the bare canes and think of the months of fragrant blooms lying under that frost-touched bark. When the weather warms, they’ll send out furled leaves, reddish then green, and buds will soon follow. As an inexperienced gardener, I didn’t trim the roses. It felt wrong, cruel somehow to cut back a perfectly healthy plant. The roses still bloomed, still grew, but the leaves didn’t get as large, and the flowers weren’t as numerous. I’ve learned my lesson now. My shears are sharp and ready.

Sometimes nature takes its course without our help, and sometimes it needs our assistance. Friendships are like that too. When I was at the store, I purchased a handful of postcards. Who buys these things, except tourists? Who sends postcards, except people who want to brag about how far they’ve gone on vacation? Well, I do. I got out my old address book and started writing down names of friends I hadn’t talked to in a while. It seems so hard to call people out of the blue. I’m always afraid of what they’ll think. She’ll think I need to borrow money, he’ll think I just broke up and am trying to flirt, my cousin will think I want a favor. So I write instead. No one, it seems, minds a postcard.

I’ve learned that I don’t have to write much. “Thinking of you,” seems to cover it. Or maybe, “I saw this postcard with a beagle on it, and remembered your old dog Spot. How are you and Spot doing?” People don’t often write back. Sometimes you have to send them four or five cards before they write you, sometimes they don’t write back at all. Sometimes they’ve moved, and don’t get the postcard. And sometimes, sometimes they’ve missed you too, and wondered why you’ve drifted apart. Sometimes they get out their address book, and pick up the phone, and call to ask you out to coffee. A rectangle of cardstock and a twenty-three cent stamp, and you automatically get a week of hope that you’re about to rekindle an old friendship. And even if that old co-worker doesn’t remember you, or if he’s moved and the postcard arrives at the house of a stranger, you’ve probably brightened someone’s day. That’s worth fifty cents.

Every day we pass people whose names we never learn. That pierced, pink-haired barista that you buy your latte from might have gone to your high school. That old woman who sits on the same spot in the bus might have important lessons to teach you about life. Your study-partner in that night class might be looking for someone to share his theater tickets with. Sure, they’re just strangers, people we don’t know, and don’t need to know. On the other hand, if you see the same person every day, or every week, how do you know that person isn’t meant to be in your life? It’s hard to be outgoing, hard to strike up conversations without an introduction or the comforting venue of a cocktail party. Seeds don’t need much to grow, a bit of warmth, a bit of rain, and nature takes its course. The wind changes, and flocks of birds know it’s time to return home. Maybe all it takes to turn “that girl from the coffee shop” into “Tina, who plays tennis with me on Mondays” is an extra smile, an extra nod, an extra moment of attention. We are each other’s sun, we are each other’s rain. We have the power to turn the barren soil of strangerhood into a small connection between fellow human beings. You don’t have to do it all, in fact, you can’t make a relationship develop by force any more than you can make a turnip grow faster by tugging at its root, but you do have to make an effort. Plant a small seed of possibility.

I’ve got a small stack of postcards on my desk, each one addressed and stamped and ready for the mailman. It took an hour, and half a booklet of stamps. I wrote just a sentence, or just a smiley face and my name. I’m already imagining how fun it would be to throw a party and invite people I haven’t seen for years. On my kitchen windowsill, tomato seeds wait in their peat pots. In my mind the tomatoes (which haven’t yet sprouted) taste like sunlight, miles better than any of the icy slices the guy at the deli puts on my sandwich. At lunch, I smile at the deli guy anyway, and comment on his funny button, and call him “Eddie,” from his nametag. He recognizes me when I come in now, and even though he calls me “No Peppers, Right?” it’s a start. A lottery ticket, unscratched, is stuck to my fridge with a magnet. It could win me ten thousand dollars–or maybe not. It’s fun to wonder, and hope. I’ve got my novel in the hands of an editor too. As February turns into March, and March turns into April, she’ll work her way down the stack to mine. She’ll read it, and she’ll send me a yes, or a no. I’m in no rush to get my SASE back with the answer. For now, I’ll just savor the possibility of what might happen. Few things in this world taste as sweet as hope.

It’s Elemental, My Dear

by Barbara Stoner

Years ago, when I first began exploring Wicca, a serious question arose. Who was to be my goddess/god? To whom did I relate? To whom did I address my petitions? Upon whose energy did I call? I am at heart a practical, secular soul, drawn nevertheless to the beauty that speaks to me from Wicca. I loved the images of other Wiccans, each comfortably calling on her own chosen goddess. I did so want to join them.

However, the goddesses who were most familiar to me from the Greek/Roman pantheon, such as Athena/Minerva, Hera/Juno, Artemis/Diana, Aphrodite/Venus and even Demeter/Ceres and Persephone, seemed a trifle distant. They were imagined in lands in which I had never lived. I didn’t know the contours of their landscapes. I didn’t know how their sun felt at noon, or what constellations they see from that latitude. Astarte and Isis I respected because of their great antiquity, but I had trouble seeing them in my world. I am half Norwegian, but I did not feel any particular affinity for the Norse pantheon. I related very well to Celtic myth, the myth of Britain, and I wanted to be able to use those images, but even though my other half is English, nothing really spoke to me from that corner either. I tried Cerridwen, Dana and even Bridget, but I’m not Irish, and I thought I had no business adopting Irish deities if I couldn’t speak the language. The same held true for Native American imagery.

So here I was, a witch without a witchdom. No deities to call my own. And it was clear to me that something was needed here. There had to be a focal point, someplace to address my petitions, to hear my blessings, to put up with my imprecations. I didn’t want a new god, and I couldn’t find a goddess who would put up with me. Where to go?

Reading on, gathering information wherever I could, I ran across another set of beings upon whom one could call. The “circles” called by witches in many traditions often begin with calling these entities to be with them. They are the elementals: earth, air, fire and water. I was drawn, first of all, to the drama of the calling. One of the first I read began, “I call upon the watchtowers of the east and the spirits of air.” Very cool. I liked the language. Most of all, however, the elementals seemed to be solid things, much more real to me than the psychological projections of humanity that the gods and goddesses represented. I could walk on the earth. I could breathe the air. I could warm myself by fire. I could drink the water. I needed all of them to survive. So calling on them, blessing them, beseeching them for their favor and thanking them for their generosity is very easy for my practical soul. Yes, I was completely in my element with the elementals. And so earth, air, fire and water became my familiars. They are my genius loci, my lares and penates. They guard my hearth.

These are the “elements” that for centuries were assumed to be the building blocks of which the earth and all on it were composed. It was an assumption that supposedly was shattered by the scientific discovery of the micro-world. So why do earth, air, fire and water still speak so strongly to me, indeed to many of us? Why do we not call on oxygen, hydrogen, combustion and, say, molybdenum? Neptunium? Ah! Californium! In embracing earth, air, fire and water, are we becoming like the members of the Flat Earth Society? Rejecting the realities of science and all that follows from that?

Not really. As a matter of fact, I believe that the elementals are just as important today as they ever were, if not more so. As I thought about them, I realized that no matter how you break these simple elements down into their component parts of hydrogen, oxygen, nitrogen– indeed the entire periodic table of elements of which all earth is composed — it is still these four that sustain life. Their constituent parts cannot do it until they are combined into those magical properties: earth, air, fire and water. And it is indeed these very elements that are presently becoming contaminated, even endangered.

Each of the elementals has a long history of correspondences and qualities associated with it: directions, seasons, times, signs of the zodiac, suits of the tarot, goddesses and gods, even such particulars as senses, jewels, incense, plants and animals. I can’t think of a single book I have picked up delineating the basics of Wicca that does not have a list of these correspondences. I like to think of these as our own version of the Periodic Table. Each elemental has its own number of electrons, protons, neutrons and valences. We call them by other names, but their history of use throughout many years in many different traditions have made them part and parcel of each element. If it is true, as I believe it to be, that we each take part in creating the world, then all of those who continue to use these associations add to their reality and, therefore, to their efficacy, each time we do so.

Let us consider air: Air is associated with the east, perhaps because of the newness, the freshness, that seems to come with each new dawn, with each fresh breath of air. It has in its charge the mind, intuition, intellect and knowledge, both factual and theoretical. It is movement. It sweeps the hills and the mountaintops, plains and beaches. It moves ships and windmills. It moves around us, and yet we can move right through it. It is what we breathe, it is breath itself, which means it is analogous to life itself.

Air’s time of day is dawn, or early morning, when the sun is rising and the mind is awakening for the day. Air’s season is spring, when the earth is awakening, when we open our windows to the fresh air that carries the promise of the warmth of the day, of the year to come. Its sense is smell, which it carries to us. It is the suit of swords, cutting through to the heart of the matter. The colors of air are the pastels, lavenders, the pale greens of new grass swaying in the wind, the pinks of spring blossoms drifting on the breeze. The element of air rules the signs of Gemini, Libra and Aquarius: expression, balance, freedom. Air, along with fire, is associated with masculine energies, and the ritual tool of air is the sword, or the athame’.

You call on the element of air when it’s time for mental work: balance your checkbook, schedule your day, write your novel. The air elemental can be called to cram your exams with you, work on your resume’, find the right things to say to a friend in need, get the best deal on a vacation in Italy. Air holds kites, clouds, rain, wind, balloons, planes and those most magical of creatures, birds. Air creates sound. Wind instruments, flutes and such, are instruments of air. Feathers and leaves float in the air. Whenever you have felt the wind blow your hair back, chased scattered papers in an errant breeze, rolled the window in your car down to get a breath of fresh air, sat in meditation, breathing deeply and evenly, you have experienced the power of the element of air.

When we speak of things highly academic, conversations or ideas that we believe must come out of the halls of great learning, we speak of the “rarefied air,” when we daydream, we build “castles in the air,” when we are elated, we “walk on air,” when we wish to impress, we “put on airs,” people on the radio are “on the air,” when we leave a thought unfinished, we leave it “up in the air.” From whence, presumably, it can come again and whisper sweet inspiration into our ears. And what is inspiration, but breathing in? And breathing out at last, we expire.

Face east in the morning, take in a deep breath of air, and ask to face your day with a clear mind and an open heart.

Fire is associated with the south, no doubt because in the Northern Hemisphere, the south side is the sunny side. Although the sun may rise in the east and sink in the west, it is from the south that it brings its warmth, and to the south that it withdraws, season by season. Fire is energized matter, and so under its name in our Periodic Table we can write energy, heat, flame, blood, and sap. Fire makes life possible. Because the sun is fire, and without the sun, what are we? There may be a million other conditions that need to be met before life can emerge, but first and foremost among them are heat and light. Without them, we are a frozen rock in space, with no further possibilities. Fire can heal, destroy and purify. Fire transforms food and metals. It creates warmth from wood, coal and oil, transforming them into heat, ashes and smoke. We see fire in bonfires, hearth fires and candles. Forest fires, deserts and volcanoes are the earthly homes for fire. Sight is its sense, for it provides the light by which we see. Fire’s time of day is noon, when the sun stands at its greatest power for the day. Fire’s season is summer, filled with heat, fired by passions, bursting with fecundity. It is the suit of wands, transforming all it touches. It has the strength of the lion, tawny yellow in the Serengeti sun, the passion of the volcano, simmering deep and red within the earth, the grinning orange of a Halloween pumpkin, shining a welcoming light into the sacred night. The element of fire rules Aries, Leo and Sagittarius: aggression, leadership, adventure. Fire, as well as air, is associated with masculine energies, and the ritual tool of fire is the wand.

We call on fire for energy, creativity and passion. When we need a pick-me-up in the middle of the day, hot coffee can be a fire ritual. When our love life is dull, when we need to bake cookies, when our feet are cold, we call on fire. Fire is anger. When we march for peace in the streets, perhaps we should use the healing power of water, but very often the energy that gets us there is fire. Fire is fireworks, bullets, bombs. Fire must be controlled, or it will consume us — and burn the cookies to boot.

We speak of fiery passions. We jump from the frying pan into the fire. When we are under attack, we are “under fire.” Fervent or zealous, we are “on fire.” To get the troops ready for battle, we “fire them up,” and when we send someone to perdition, we wish them a storm of “fire and brimstone.” Rock beside your fireplace on a blustery night, join friends around a campfire, light a candle for meditation. Look for transformation in the flames.

Water is associated with the west, no doubt because so much water lay to the west of Europe, where many of these associations had their beginning. Its Periodic Table column includes emotions, feelings, love, courage, daring and sorrow, as well as the ocean, tides, lakes, pools, streams and rivers, springs and wells. Water fills the womb, and is associated with the feminine powers of intuition, generation and fertility. The element of water is liquid, able to take any shape, yet always finding its own level. Water brings taste to our tongues, as air brings smell to our nostrils. Water is in our tears, falling in joy or pain. It is the dew that falls gently in the mornings and late in the evenings. It is the rain, which waters earth to make our food. Water’s time of day is dusk, when the day begins to cool and quiet. Water’s season is autumn, bringing in the harvest for the long, cold months ahead. It is the suit of cups, running over with abundance. Water has its own colors — blue, green, grey, sparkling silver. Water rules over Cancer, Scorpio and Pisces: nurturing, magical, intuitive. Water is associated with feminine energy, and its magical tool is the cup.

Is there illness? Hardship? Do you need comfort? Use the power of water. Do you need to search your soul? Does your spirit need healing? Water is a soothing cup of chicken soup. A glass of frosty iced tea on a warm summer day. A hot shower. A bubble bath. The first thing we must learn to do in the kitchen is to boil water. Water is a bay in Jamaica. A frozen Minnesota lake. Rain on the garden. Snow on the mountaintops. Seventy percent of our bodies is water. We are walking water. The depth of the ocean is a metaphor for the depth of our own psyches, and on a flood of gushing waters, we are born. Water is essential to our health and well-being. It is essential to life. Its soothing caress is a loving, healing touch.

Being safe is “keeping one’s head above water.” Something of high value is of “the first water.” Something of no value will never hold water. Desire can make our mouths water. Simon and Garfunkel offer the wounded psyche a bridge over troubled waters. When we go to heal, we take the waters. Wade in a shallow pool, lay back in a hot tub or just trail your fingers in a bowl of water. Close your eyes, and let the waters of life soothe your soul.

Earth, associated with the north, perhaps because of the cold north winds that drove our ancestors to ground, lists the Periodic Table qualities of body, growth, nature, birth and death. It is the silence of the snow, the magnificence of mountains, the dark womb of caves, the grandeur of the grove. Earth can be liquid as lava, solid as rock. It is fertile fields, sparkling crystal deep-toned jewels, hard-edged metals. Earth is in our bones, and is itself the bones of our Mother. We are born from an earthly womb, and it is to earth that we eventually return. It is the structure of our lives. Touch is the sense of earth, warm and cold, fuzzy and smooth, sand and stone and grass. Earth’s time of day is midnight, when the fire of the sun is spent, the dews of evening have fallen, and the air is dark and close around us. Earth’s season is winter, for in spite of the bounteous growth of summer and the harvest of fall, it is winter when the earth is laid bare, waiting for air, fire and water to once again begin to fill it with new life. It is the suit of pentacles, based in solid materiality. Earth is brown and black and green. Earth rules Taurus, Virgo, and Capricorn: steadfastness, devotion and ambition. Earth is a feminine elemental, and its magical tool is the pentacle.

Whattsa matter? Can’t pay the bills? Lost your job due to Bush’s recovery plan? Spent the tax return already? Turn to the earth. Afraid of the dark? Afraid of the neighbors? Try a protection spell, using the power of earth. Tending a houseplant? A garden? A yard full of blooms? Seek help from the earth, in which these things are rooted. Looking for a home to call your own, for protection from air, fire and water? Look to the element of earth. If water is a cup of chicken soup, earth is a grilled cheese sandwich. Solid, good, tasty, dependable. At Grateful Dead shows, I always got a dollar ready when the show was over to pick up a grilled cheese sandwich in the lot. It was cheap, hot and fast, you could hold it in one hand, and nothing squished out and ran down your arm when you bit into it. It was earth food, a good grounding after an adventurous flight. Earth is money in the bank, a forgotten five-dollar bill in last year’s jacket pocket. Earth is fresh spinach for your salad, pansies in the planters, that deer in the headlights, the cat on your bed. Earth is your lover, bringing home the bacon — or the tofu, as the case may be. Earth is Martha Stewart (bright blessings to her). Earth is a good thing.

The foods we eat are the “fruits of the earth.” When we are dressed in old clothes, dusty from our work, lusty for love or using salty language, we are called “earthy.” Important events are “earthshaking.” Lovers make the earth move. Treasures hidden in the bowels of the earth remind us that our planet is a body. And reminding us that our body itself is earth, we intone at the graveside, “Earth to earth, ashes to ashes…” as we prepare to rejoin the mother of all. Sit on a warm rock in the sun, take off your shoes and push your toes into the dust, feel your own roots. Many Wiccan circles begin with this phrase: “Ground and center.” Grounding is doing just that. Feeling those roots go deep into the earth. Feeling our center solid and sure within ourselves. Gathering our spirit home.

A few years ago, wanting to insert a bit of daily ritual into my life, I composed four stanzas, one for each element, each direction, each significant time of day. I generally stand somewhere outside, facing the relevant direction at approximately the relevant time, raise my arms to the sky, and say the words aloud. Sometimes, I merely pause in my daily rounds, stop and breathe deeply, and let my heart speak the words. I encourage you to do something similar with your own poetry, your own small daily ritual. I hope you find room in your life to remember earth, air, fire and water. They are elemental.

Pagan Studies  –  Psychic Communication Spell

GrannyMoon’s Morning Feast Archive 

Affirmations

If you repeat an affirmation three times a day three times, each time you do it for 28 days it will become a part of your being 

and whenever you feel like life is going out of control you will be able to just find that safe place.

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Sources : GrannyMoon's Morning Feast Archives 

Remember the ancient ways and keep them sacred! 

Today Is:  Woden’s Day

Graceful Guidance 
Working With Angels

Angels are symbols of grace and gentle encouragement; they can offer us comfort as they enfold us in their wings.

At some point in our lives, we are likely to find ourselves asking for help, perhaps from no one in particular, and without knowing where help could possibly come from. We may have raised our eyes skyward or whispered our need under our breath only to find that somehow we were heard, and the help we needed arrived. It might have come in the form of a person who appeared at the right time, or perhaps it came in the form of luck, chance, or divine intervention. However assistance appears, these are times when we can be sure that there are angels watching over us.

We may find ourselves asking for their help with simple things—like finding a parking spot or to watch over loved ones—but then we forgot to call on them when we found ourselves alone or in pain. We don’t need to be aware of them to receive their assistance, but there is comfort in the knowledge that they are there for us when we need them. And when we remain open to their presence, we can call on them whenever we need them to connect and be nurtured by their ethereal and heavenly energy.

As symbols of grace and gentle encouragement, they can offer us comfort as they enfold us in their wings or lift our spirit as they take flight. We may be warmed by their glow, guided by their gentle nudges or inspired by their whispers in our ears. We may hear the name of our angel and feel a personal connection, but it isn’t necessary. All they need is to be heard, to see us benefit from their guidance and perhaps to hear a word of thanks sent their way every now and then. Whether they appear in the guise of a helpful stranger, or as a thought that suddenly occurs to us, angels are our loving guides from the spiritual realm, who with a brush of their angelic wings help us to make the most of our human experience by balancing it with the spiritual awareness that all things are possible and that we are not alone.

Power Animal of the Day: Giraffe

The Giraffe

Uniqueness          Foresight          Self-Acceptance

Welcome the great powers of the giraffe into your life, for she will be of great help to you.

First and foremost, the giraffe loves her body.  She loves that she is unique in all the world and she knows and owns her beauty.  She does not waste a single minute in wishing she were anything other than what she is, just as she is.  Let her teach you this love of your own body, even though you are, of course, not like everyone else. 

The giraffe will also give you the gift of foresight, for her height lets her see what is coming from great distances.  Nothing catches her by surprise, for she can see not only what is heading her way, but can run as fast as the wind if she does not like what she sees.  Learn from her to intuitively sense what is coming.  Just breathe in the giraffe spirit before you make any major decisions and she will help you to see what is on its way to you.  What you see may be too far away for others to see, but you are the giraffe.

The giraffe will also bring you the gift of camouflage, her spots blending in with the hillside and her long neck with the tree tops themselves.  With her energy within you, you will be able to find ways to maintain your own uniqueness while sharing the world with others.  Her highly social nature will help you find the right balance between being exactly who you are, shining out with your wonder, while also fitting in with the group when you care to. 

You are all of this:  unique, yet socially adept; far-seeing and intuitive; and completely comfortable with your physical self.  How blessed you are to be the giraffe!

Native Spirituality

Source: Celestial Light

Honor the sacred.
Honor the Earth, our Mother.
Honor the Elders.
Honor all with whom we
share the Earth;
Four-leggeds, two-leggeds,
winged ones,
Swimmers, crawlers,
plant and rock people.
Walk in balance and beauty.

~ Native American Elder ~

Today’s I Ching Hexagram for Everyone:

23: Splitting Apart

Wednesday, January 19th, 2011

General Meaning: All is not what it seems. Sometimes, reality is like a hall of mirrors. Intrigues multiply like summer flies, and there are signs of discontent all around. This is a time of illusion and disillusion, disintegration, distrust and deception.

When you find yourself trapped in a hall of mirrors, sometimes it is necessary to retrace your steps. Return to the familiar; take solace in what is firm and secure. There is no blame in holding back on progress now; indeed, it is your responsibility to keep your strength intact for the period of resurrection, which follows disintegration as surely as dawn follows the night.

Discretion is the better part of valor. Good timing is especially important. Learn to focus on the essence of the problem and choose the proper moments for action, thereby avoiding futile effort. Be particularly attentive at such a time as this for changes that signal it’s time to retreat.

In the realm of personal relations, disillusionment is generally painful and confusing. When in the midst of such a phase, it is wise to avoid undertaking any bold new moves, and it is especially important not to jump to conclusions.

Today’s Tarot Card for Everyone:

Judgment

This Tarot Deck: Medieval Cat