Tag: Pagan

BROOMSTICKS & BESOMS

BROOMSTICKS & BESOMS

Witches & Broomsticks ñ Use & History

The BroomstickÖ

The traditional companion of the witches was the enchanted broomstick, used for
their wild and unholy flights through the night and probably to some distant
Witches’ Sabbat. This is one of the first images you get to see as a child and
this was doubtlessly believed by the prominent rulers of Europe. The number of
actual confessions of witches doing so is remarkably small. Usually confessions
state that they went to the Sabbat on foot or on horseback.

Legends of witches flying on brooms goes back as far as the beginning of the
Common Era. The earliest known confession of a Witch flying on a broom was in
1453, when Guillaume Edelin of St. Germain-en-Laye, near Paris, stated that he
had done so. In 1563, Martin Tulouff of Guernsey said to have seen his aged
mother straddle a broomstick and whisk up the chimney and out of the house on
it, saying “Go in the name of the Devil and Lucifer over rocks and thorns”. In
1598 Claudine Boban and her mother, witches of the province of Franche-Comt, in
eastern France, also spoke of flying up the chimney of a stick. The belief of
flying off though the chimney became firmly embedded in popular tradition,
although only a few people ever mentioned doing so. It has been suggested that
this idea was connected with the old custom of pushing a broom up the chimney to
indicate the absence of the housewife. The Germanic Goddess Holda or Holle is
also connected with the chimney.

Other indications that lead to the popular belief that witches actually flew on
broomsticks can be found in an old custom of dancing with a broom between the
legs, leaping high in the air. In Reginald Scot’s book, The Discoverie of
Witchcraft, published in 1584, we find a similar description:

“At these magical assemblies, the witches never failed to dance; and in their
dance they sing these words, ‘Har, har, divell divell, dance here dance here,
plaie here plaie here, Sabbath, Sabbath’. And whiles they sing and dance, ever
one hath a broom in her hand, and holdeth it up aloft.” Scot quoted these
descriptions of Witch rites from a French demonologist, Jean Bodin, who made
observations of a kind of jumping dance, riding on staffs. These customs might
have contributed to the popular picture of broomstick-riding witches through the
air.

In 1665, from the confession of Julian Cox, one of the Somerset coven, mentioned
“that one evening she walks out about a Mile from her own House and there came
riding towards her three persons upon three Broom-staves, born up about a years
and a half from the ground. Two of them she formerly knew, which was a Witch and
a Wizard”.

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Where do these beliefs come from?

Some authors claim that the oldest known source of witches flying on broomsticks
is a manuscript called Le Champion des Dames by Martin Lefranc, 1440. This might
be one of the oldest images representing a hag on a broomstick, but it is
certainly not the first. A wall painting from the 12th century in Schlesswig
Cathedral (Germany) shows the Norse deity Frigg riding her staff.

If we really dig a bit deeper into history, we’ll find that from the Roman world
there are reports that mention witches flying on broomsticks as well as having
used ointments, as early as the first century. They were called Straigae
(Barnowl) and the Lamiae from Greek culture had similar characteristics. Later
in Roman history, the goddess Diana was the leader of the Wild Hunt:

“It is also not to be omitted that some wicked women, perverted by the Devil,
seduced by illusions and phantasm of demons, believe and profess themselves in
the hours of the night to ride upon certain beasts with Diana, the goddess of
pagans, and an innumerable multitude of women, and in the silence of the dead of
the night to traverse great spaces of earth, and to obey her commands as of
their mistress, and to be summoned to her service on certain nights”. (See:
Canon Episcopi).

Similar beliefs existed in many parts of Europe. From Norse mythology, we know
that the army of women, lead by Odin (Wodan), called the Valkyries, was said to
ride through the skies on horses, collecting the souls of the dead. In
continental Germanic areas, the goddess Holda or Holle was also said to lead the
Wild Hunt and is connected to chimneys and witchcraft. Berchta or Perchta,
another Germanic goddess, which can be identified with Holda, has similar
characteristics.

Again in Celtic Traditions, the Horned God Cernunnos, and/or Herne the Hunter
was leader of the Wild Hunt and the Scottish Witch Goddess Nicneven was also
said to fly through the night with her followers. Eastern Europe sources also
have a wealth of folklore about witches flying through the air. So flying
through the air, evidently, was a deeply rooted mythological theme, associated
with the free roaming of the spirit, the separation of soul and body.

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Symbolism

The broomstick is a female and male symbol, “the rod which penetrated the bush”.
Its symbolism and interpretation is therefore purely sexual.

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Broomstick Weddings

“To marry over the broomstick,” “jump the besom”, was an old-time form of
marriage, in which both parties jumped over a broomstick to signify that they
were joined in common-law union. Also in the Netherlands, one can still find the
old saying “over de bezem trouwen” (marrying over the broomstick). At gypsy
wedding ceremonies, the bride and groom jump backwards and forwards over a
broomstick. A besom used to be placed before the doorway, the married couple
had to jump over it without dislodging the broom, from the street into their new
home. At any time within a year, this process could be reversed to dissolve the
marriage by jumping backwards. All this had to take place before several
witnesses.

In folk-belief, like that in Yorkshire, it was unlucky for an unmarried girl to
step over a broomstick because it meant that she would be a mother before she
was a wife. Light-hearted wags used to delight in putting broomsticks in the
path of unsuspecting virgins.

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RITUAL USE

Artificial Phallus

There are hints of its use as an artificial penis or dildo. In a curious old
book, A Dictionary of Slang, Jargon and Cant, by Albert BarrSre and Charles
Godfrey Leland (1897-1899), we are told that the slang term in those days for a
dildo or artificial penis was “a broom-handle”, and the female genitals were
known vulgarly as “the broom”. To “have a brush” was to have sexual
intercourse. Noteworthy is the evidence from Witch trials mentioning the “cold
hard member of the Devil himself”. In 1662, Isabel Gowdie, accused of
witchcraft, made a confession which could suggest that some sort of artificial
phallus of horn or leather may have been used:

“His members are exceeding great and long; no man’s members are so long and big
as they areÖ.(he is) a meikle, black, rough man, very cold, and I found his
nature as cold within me as spring-well waterÖHe is abler for us that way than
any man can be, only he is heavy like a malt-sack, a huge nature, very cold, as
ice.”

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Broomsticks and Ointments

That ointments used to induce astral projection has been known for a long time.
Therefore the belief of witches flying away on their brooms probably has its
true origin in this shamanic practice of applying narcotic herbs. There are
numerous paintings, engraving and woodcuts from witches, anointing themselves,
before flying off to the Sabbat. There are also quite a lot of confessions of
ointments being applied to leave the body and fly off. These confessions
sometimes show an unawareness that they were not actually flying, but often it
is obvious that the witches knew that the ointments they used had the effects
requited for leaving the body and making spiritual journeys. These practices we
now call astral projection, were obviously known throughout large parts of the
world, but especially worthy evidence comes from French and Italian records.

There is also a hint of use of besoms and sticks as a means to insert the
witches unguent into the vagina to potentate the aphrodisiac effects and for
optimal absorption and effect, while serving as an artificial penis.

The confessions of a woman named Antoine Rose, a Witch of Savoy (France) who was
tortured and tried in 1477, stated that “The first time she was taken to the
synagogue (Sabbat) she saw many men and women there, enjoying themselves and
dancing backwards. The Devil, whose name was Robinet, was a dark man who spoke
in a hoarse voice. Kissing Robinet’s foot in homage, she renounced God and the
Christian faith. He put his mark on her, on the little finger of her left hand,
and gave her a stick, 18 inches long, and a pot of ointment. She used to smear
the ointment on the stick, put it between her legs and say “Go, in the name of
the Devil, go!” At once she would be carried though the air to the synagogue.”

Alice Kyteler, a famous Irish Witch of the early 14th century, was supposed to
have owned a staff “on which she ambled and galloped through thick and thin,
when and in what manner she listed, after having greased it with the ointment
which was found in her possession.”

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Book and Article Resources:

An ABC of Witchcraft by Doreen Valiente, 1973. De Benedanti: Hekserij en
Vruchtbaarheidsriten in de 16e & 17e Eeuw by Carlo Ginzburg, 1966, 1986.
Encyclopedia of Witchcraft & Demonology, 1974. Europe’s Inner Demons: The
Demonization of Christians in Medieval Christendom by Norman Cohn, 1975, 1973.
Heksen, Ketters en Inquisiteurs by Arie Zwart en Karel Braun, 1981. Practical
Magic in the Northern Traditon by Nigel Pennick, 1989. The History of Witchcraft
by Montague Summers, London, 1927. Witchcraft, A Tradition Renewed by Doreen
Valiente and Evan Jones, Phoenix Publishing, 1990. Witchcraft & Demonology by
Francis X. King, 1987, and various online resources and articlesÖ

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THE CARE AND FEEDING OF THE WICCA BROOM

THE CARE AND FEEDING OF THE WICCA BROOM

As Witches, we need to be aware of the Ancient Broom Lore that has been passed
down to us from those wonderful Crones of the past.

1- Never leave home for long periods of time without telling your broom.

2- Treat your broom as you would any other member of your family, with honor,
reverence and respect.

3- Magickal Brooms are not regular cleaning brooms and should not be used for
such mundane tasks.

4- Never leave your Magickal Broom outside your cast circle.

5- Speak with your broom as you would speak to other members of your family or
coven.

6- Never leave your Magickal Broom outside in the weather unless you ask the
Broom.

7- Oil your broomstick with every turn of the wheel.

Brooms have long been known for their magickal ways, probably due to it’s shape,
use in purification rites and kinship with magickal wands and staffs. The common
household tool has been known to be so sacred that in many parts of the world
there are Broom Deities.

Sao Ching Niang – The lady with the broom who lives in the Broom Star. When
there is too much rain and the crops are threatened, it is not uncommon in China
to see pictures of Brooms hanging on the front door or fences to bring clear and
sunny weather to the field.

As this is invoking the Great Earth Goddess herself, the Broom Star is the
fertile womb of our Great Goddess, and thus she gives us life of the fields that
are represented by the Corn Fields. Hence the broom is brought into our homes
from the womb of the Goddess.

In Mexico, the Witch Goddess Tlazoiteotl is depicted riding on a broom. This
symbolizes the coming of the night, the dark part of ourselves, the growing
darkness of the winter.

The priests in South America hve been known to burn offerings of owls and
snakes. These were offered at the dark moon. Through these offerings, the people
were calling upon the Broom Witch to sweep away their transgressions.

My grandmother was a Broom Witch. Here are some of the old magickal things that
can be done with a broom. On a hot summers day, I would watch her go out on the
front porch and swing the broom over her head. Grandma would just tell me to be
quiet, the rain was coming. And if fact she was right. A few hours later we
always had rain. So Granny would call the rain with her broom by swinging it
clockwise over her head.

In turn, if it was raining too much, she would go out and talk with her broom
for a while on the front porch. She would sing “Rain, rain, go away, come again
some other day”. Then she would raise her broom and swing it over her head
counter-clockwise to stop the rain, and again, a few hours later the rain would
stop.

With some practice, I know have mastered this little broomlore spell. I find it
handy to tell the broom what I want it to do before I do it, then I say my
incantation and swing the broom.

THE CARE AND FEEDING OF A MAGICKAL BROOM

When you first get your broom, always greet it by rubbing your hand over the
entire staff of the broom. Learn the body of your broom, inspect it’s divets and
curves. Use anointing oil to open and activate your broom. A good oil is made
from rosemary, thyme, myrrh and lavender in base oil. Make this oil by the full
moon and then open your broom on the first day of the new moon.

When getting a new broom, it’s always good to talk with it awhile. I usually
carry mine along with me in my car, and I sleep with it by my bed. Talk with
your broom, it’s amazing how much these magickal tools have to say to us and how
lonely they become when cast to the side. When shopping for a new broom, always
put out your intention on the day after the new moon, burn pink and white
candles, and ask for the right broom to be shown to you. My preference is a
broom made with natural corn, or harvested brambles. I like to find a natural
handle for the broom. Elm, birch, ash, oak, sassafras, those are all really good
magickal woods to use as broom handles. If you are lucky to live in a natural
area, you can make your own from the Divine Goddess Garden. If you are a
city dweller, local shops sometimes carry natural brooms that are hand-tied.
Usually they are found at local gift shops or craft fairs. Also go to the local
Antique mall. Sometimes you’ll find an interesting retired broom that would like
to be put back into service. Nothing is worse then to have a wise old broom and
not have it in use.

After your broom has been chosen and spoken to, then start using it to call in
your circle. I point the broom in the direction that I’m casting and use this to
focalize the energy.

Once the circle is cast, then I lay the broom across the east to guard the
entrance until my magickal work is done. I also sprinkle salt in the east over
the broom to strengthen the seal, especially if I find myself doing some intense
spell casting.

Once I’m done with casting my magickal work, I thank my broom and lift it from
east and dismiss the quarters. A broom can also be used to cast a circle in a
hurry, much the same way a staff can be used. If I know I need immediate
protection, I point my broom to east and cast a circle with my broom pointed to
the earth, moving in a clockwise direction. This really works if you are in a
hurry and need to have some sacred space like NOW.

I also oil my broom handle with my anointing oil 4 times a year during each turn
of the wheel. This helps recharge the broom and helps you reconnect with it. It
likes to be stroked and caressed. Your broom is a sensuous creature and like to
be part of the Divine Feminine.

BROOM SPELLS

The “Come to Me” Broom Spell

On a warm night (or turn the heater up), put on some Goddess clothing (loose and
feminine), put on some soothing music that makes you want to dance. Now take
your broom as if it were your beloved and dance with the broom until you are
flying into the arms of your beloved. Whisper this four times to yourself….

By night’s light we shine bright
By sun light we are right
By days end we are together by sacred rite.

Now cast your circle by laying your broom in each quarter. Lay the broom in the
east and jump clockwise over it. Lay the broom in the south and jump clockwise
over it. Lay the broom in the west and jump clockwise over it. Then lay it in
the north and jump over it. Once you have completed your circle, your beloved
will come to you within 24 hours. Use this spell to mend fights, or if you don’t
have a mate, use this to call a mate to you.

SWEEPING SPELLS AND LORE

If you feel your life is in chaos, take a look around at your front porch and
front walkway. If the front walk is cluttered with leaves and dirt, then sweep
your walkway and front porch clean with your magickal broom and envision that
your life is in order and that all that comes to your will be clean and cleared.

When you move from one house to another, it’s always good to change your
workaday broom. Either burn your old one, or make sure that it is buried with
honor. Always bring a new broom into the new house, but sweep some dirt from the
outside in before you sweep the dirt from the inside out. This is to bring in
good luck from the beginning and not push your luck out the door.

Always hang a broom by the front door for protection. Brooms will keep the bad
things out and the good things in. I have a broom at every door of my home. I
keep it in the corner. Always stand a broom on end with the brush facing up.
This helps the wear and tear on the brush and it’s also said to bring love from
the earth through the broomstick and given up to the heavens through the brush.

If your broom falls from your hand while you are sweeping or doing other work,
make a wish before you pick it up. It’s also said that if a broom falls from
it’s kept place, company is coming and it’s not good news. When you pick up your
broom after something like this happens, sweep the energy out the door and bid
it adue not to return again.

If you or your kin are having recurrent nightmares or night hauntings, sweep the
room clockwise while stating that all that lies between here and the other world
be gone and back whence you came.
Hither, hither, hither gone.
Hither, hither, hither gone
Hither, hither, thither gone
So Mote It Be.

Now stand the broom outside the bedroom door and place a piece of garlic under
the bed.

HANDFASTING AND MARRIAGE BROOM LORE

As a Priestess and Wiccan Minister, I perform several Handfasting Rites per
year. One of the main things I encourage Wiccan engaged couples to do is to find
a broom together. This is the symbol of hearth and home. Once the broom has been
found, then it is anointed as I stated above, then some of the broom brush is
pulled from the stem. That brush is then woven together and placed upon the
wedding altar. The broom is present during our counseling sessions and then the
wife-to-be is usually the keeper of the broom until the wedding. This represents
that she is the keeper of the home and keeps peace and harmony while the man
goes out to work. It also means that she is the keeper of the Magickal power of
the home. As it seems in these modern times that this is wrong to have such
sexed roles, this is celtic lore from more than 600 years ago.

The night before the wedding, the couple will dress the broom by weaving 3
strand of colored ribbon around the handle. What this represents is the inter-
twining of their lives and they themselves are no longer individuals but are
part of each other. The broom is then placed either standing by the altar or
placed lying under the altar during the ceremony as the vows are said, the
promises made, that hands fasted. They are pronounced husband and wife and the
broom is then put before them as the final test of love. The couple either
steps, or in old tradition, jumps, over the broom. This is the final end of the
ceremony. Then it is recommended that the couple takes the broom home and
makes love with the broom under the bed. This seals the marriage.

Your broom can be your best friend and your magickal ally. Treat your broom with
honor, reverence and respect and you will have a life-long companion and ritual
tool.

The Book of Shadows

The Book of Shadows

Most Wiccan traditions treasure a Book of Shadows. Such books are rarely
published or even shown to non-initiates. In them, the Tradition’s specific
beliefs and modes of worship are thoroughly or sketchily outlined. Though
contents and organization of these ritual manners vary, most Books of Shadows
include instructions for the circle casting and banishing; religious rituals;
the consecration of tools; laws; coven organizational notes magical rites;
prayers and perhaps herbal lore. Some contain lists of the Traditions
pantheon, training exercises for new students and, finally, initiation
ceremonies.

Such books are vitally important to the establishment and maintenance of all
Wiccan traditions, for without them, the tradition’s specific rites and other
lore must be carefully memorized and passed down by word of mouth. This always
leaves room for error, misinterpretation, and even loss of the material. Don’t
misunderstand this: no Wiccan tradition has been able to record every single bit
of information. Much is verbally passed from teacher to student. Still a
tradition’s Book of Shadows provides and unchanging guide and memory trigger for
the practitioner.

There are many different Books of Shadows today. Some are used by hundreds of
Thousands of Wiccans. Others are created by Solitary Wiccans and never shown to
others.

Information from Living Wicca: A Further Guide for the Solitary Practitioner by
Scott Cunningham

To me the Book of Shadows is a very special book. Mostly because it is innermost
thoughts that come from your heart and soul As you study and Learn you will fill
that book up with all kinds of things from Spells to Thoughts, To just writing
how you are feeling about things. And it doesn’t matter what kind of book of
shadows you have whether it is a three ringed binder to a home made book. How
you wish to organize your Book of shadows is up to you. Just make sure that you
put as much love and care into as you do yourself. Cause that will always be a
very special and important book in this Life’s Path. And May the Goddess Shine
Brightly in your Heart for Always.

Happy Friday, TGIF, However You Want to Say it, “The Weekend’s Almost Here!”

Good afternoon dear readers! I hope you are having a good Friday. I know I am. I love it when I have time to go out and ride my four-wheeler down into the creek bank. It give me time to think and ponder things that have been said or wrote to me during the day. I pride myself on being a thick-skinned witch. But there are still things that get under my skin. Yesterday afternoon, I was sitting in the creek bed feeding the bigger wildcats and thinking about a couple of messages I had got involving this blog.

One involved me whining all the time on the blog. Before I thought it through I had made my mind up not to leave anymore personal messages or say anything about my life. Then in the middle of the creek bed and about four hundred pounds of wildcats, it hit me. This is my damn blog. I am not a very open person to start with. But for my readers to get to know me and feel  comfortable with me, I agree to occasionally write insights into my life. Now if my life is whiny, I am so sorry. But it is just my whiny life I guess, huh? What it all boils down to is this, the WOTC is my blog. I provide information for those wishing to learn or interested in Witchcraft. I do this because my Goddess told me this is what She wants me to do. I also try to let people see the true beauty about the Craft. Dispel old myths and stereotypes associated with Witches and Witchcraft. Now after I get through doing the Goddess’s work, if I want to whine, bitch, gripe or any of the above, I am going to do so. But I have remained a nice, sweet, loveable (hee,hee, in my own opinion, lol!) witch and I plan on staying that way.
For those of you who are new to blogs (and the author who wrote this was), the comments come in the back and I see them before I release them to the public for them to read.  Of course, I am not going to release the nasty ones to the public, but I can guarantee the author(s) of those comments a couple of things. You will have my undivided attention (which you don’t want)  and I am going to personally email you also. I am going to continue to do as I have always done. If you don’t like the blog, go on to the next one. But leave me in peace.

Second, this turned out to be bogus after I checked into it. I had several people (come to find out it all came from the same computer) write messages stating the style of my blog was unreadable, unorganized  and just a mess (I guess that is why someone made me an offer to buy it, huh?). They told me, they had been taking stuff from my blog to use on theirs’ and their readers were complaining because they couldn’t read the stuff. I mean really, no one can make this stuff up, lmao! Everyone knows I have no problem with anyone using info from this blog. But once you take it from here, it’s your baby!  The more I thought about this one, I almost busted a gut laughing! But come to find out what these people wanted was to sell me a $75 web blog kit for WordPress.  They don’t know it but they are knocking on a poor witch’s door, lol! But I have come to love WordPress and how they keep up with posts in the back and I am very serious on this. In the back, I get your message then I also get your ISP number, cool!  So all my dear friends have nothing to worry about. They keep a record of the ISP in case of a hacker, spammer, or butthead. And I was able to track those buttheads that wanted to sell me the blog kit.

Well guess I have whined enough for today. Enjoy the rest of your Friday and have a great weekend!

Love ya,

Lady A

Seeking (and Finding) Beauty, Mystery, Wonder

Seeking (and Finding) Beauty, Mystery, Wonder

article

by Janice Van Cleve

Beauty, mystery, wonder — these are the fundamental forces underlying any religion or spiritual experience, according to Steve Blamires, a Scottish author who lectured recently at the Theosophical Society in Seattle. He is a native of the Scottish island of Arran, and the purported subject of his talk was the Celtic spiritual tradition, based on beauty, mystery and wonder. The advertisement said he was going to strip away all the additions and complications that later have been added to this originally simple, practical spiritual path.

There certainly was beauty, mystery and wonder in the room that night. I, for example, openly wondered how long this short little man with the affected accent could drone on and on about the wee little village where he grew up. I wondered why it is in talks like this that a speaker’s mystique and credibility are supposedly somehow enhanced by the difficulty in understanding him. It must be a “speaking in tongues” thing.

Another wonder I had was when would he finally get to the subject that was advertised. I have read a good deal about Celtic traditions, particularly as they apply to the neo-pagan movement in the United States. It is amazing to see how far wishful thinking, misinterpretation, ego and greed can go, grinding out endless books with pretty covers to sell to the unsuspecting. One only has to scan the shelves in the bookstores to realize how much bunk and bullpucky has been fabricated.

Those are the things I was wondering. Then I got to the mystery. The mystery for me was how in the world someone like this could attract an audience on a Sunday afternoon to listen to a talk that really wasn’t going anywhere. It must be marketing. You write a few books, get them circulated, they resonate with some key people and presto, you get to speak. It’s also the macaroon cookies. The Theosophical Society offers macaroons that must weigh in at about a pound apiece. The one I had held my attention and kept my sugar up for a couple of hours.

The beauty, besides the nice room and the spiritual ambiance of the place, is that I stayed to the end and allowed my imagination to interact with the presentation. I go to these things not to get one, two or three rote facts, but to stimulate my thinking. The topic is only one factor. The room, the speaker, the other people — even the droning — all spin threads from which an open mind and an active imagination can weave a pattern or at least a story. Besides, I was not about to invest a couple of hours of my time and walk away empty-handed. In this case, I began to see an application of these three concepts of beauty, mystery and wonder in the creation and performance of ritual.

Ritual is all around us. It is in almost everything we do — dating, dining, political rallies, business meetings, worship and workouts at the gym. Even the process by which we get going in the morning can be a ritual of sorts, what with shower, coffee, the news and so on. What separates ritual from habit or accident is that ritual is an intentional series of actions, appearances, sounds and words that move our psyches beyond logic and tap into emotional energies to alter our consciousness.

A good example is fundraising. On the logical level, the objective is to move cash from the donor‘s pocket to the fundraiser’s cause. Logic alone may move a few donors, but they are never enough. For most, the fundraiser needs to employ rituals of conversations, lunches, tours and building connections — the rituals of schmoozing — to achieve the desired results. The fundraiser paints a picture and paints the donor into it in a way that the donor can see. Strict accounting and profit and loss statements will not move the donor there. The ritual of fundraising has to tap into the emotional energy of the donor to alter his or her consciousness to help him or her become invested in the project. When their emotions are invested, their money is never far behind.

Conversely, we all know what it is like to get out on the wrong side of the bed in the morning. Interruption of or missing a comfortable ritual can put us out of sorts very quickly. That’s an altered consciousness our significant others and co-workers would rather not see!

There are many ways to think about and plan effective rituals, but beauty, mystery and wonder are not a bad approach. As I sat there listening to the Scotsman’s brogueish monologue, I imagined applying these principles to the Wiccan rituals I write and in which I perform.

Beauty is absolutely necessary for effective ritual. Symmetry, color, grace, simultaneous movement and repetition, harmonizing sounds and building to a climax — these principles of beauty have been understood and employed by the Catholic Church for centuries. Smells, bells and stained glass windows are no accident. They are designed and intended to build upon chants, processions and fancy robes to weave another world, an altered consciousness that will give participants the feeling that they have experienced a heavenly place and connected with their saints and angels.

Neo-pagan ritual writers today do not have the advantage of following centuries-old customs that tap into the well-trained responses of their followers. In spite of claims to the contrary, most Celtic or other “traditions” have very shallow basis in the modern world, and today’s pagan audience is usually untrained, eclectic and very independent. Ritual writers have the advantage, however, of being able to call upon the skills of storyteller, magician, choreographer and playwright to put together effective ritual. They get to create something new! By paying attention to tried and tested theatrical, military, business, political, social and religious techniques for crowd engagement, they get to build new vehicles to move our psyches beyond logic and tap into emotional energies that alter our consciousness.

Isn’t this just crowd manipulation? That’s where the mystery comes in. Mere manipulation only attempts to move a crowd into one uniform behavior, like buying a certain product or supporting a certain candidate. The mystery of good ritual is that it helps each individual open up to his or her own unique experience of another world or a unique experience of this world. To do this, the ritual must first engage the people. This is why the old Catholic mass with a priest up in front with his back to the people was much less effective than the new format of moving the altar into the middle. This is also why film houses employ wraparound screens and sound, and why sports teams use cheerleaders.

Once engaged, the people need to be moved from passive observers to active participants. Chanting, dancing, singing, toning, drumming, trance journeying and a host of other techniques are useful. While the participants may outwardly be moving closer and closer to the same behavior, what they are actually doing is letting down their logical restrictions. They are depending upon the mutual support of the others within the safety of the circle to let go of the mundane world and experience an altered state of consciousness.

The wonder is what they behold. If one believes in a single deity or truth, then the wonder is to behold it and to connect with it emotionally outside the narrow limits of the mind. If one believes in immanent deity or many deities, then the wonder is to swim among them and to experience them directly. If, on the other hand, one believes in the individual divine nature of each human being, then the wonder is to behold one’s own disembodied goddess/god self blooming like a flower from its pod. Perhaps the wonder is a glimpse into the future or a profound insight into the past. Perhaps it is simply an indescribable sense of beauty or love or peace. Whatever the wonder is, the ritual is successful if it helps participants get there.

That’s as far as my thoughts got when the speaker began winding down his talk and the effects of the macaroon were wearing off. I began to notice the people around me again and to feel how stiff my backside had become in this hard chair. Perhaps I had been daydreaming. Perhaps, however, my little Gaelic friend had slyly managed to slip me into an altered state of consciousness to behold a truth I could not have reached otherwise.

I wonder how he did that? It’s a mystery to me. Sure’n ’twas a beautiful talk!

Janice Van Cleve is known to doze off in lectures and concerts, but usually comes away very satisfied.

Modern Witches Connect on the Internet

Modern Witches Connect on the Internet

 

by BlackCat

Back in 1980, the personal computer was new. As a preteen, I used to wonder why anyone would use one. I knew, however, that this was a part of the future, and so I thought it must be a good thing. At the same time, I was spending many hot afternoons in the forest near my home, communing with nature and searching for spiritual connection. I found that connection with all of the life and energy around me. I yearned to learn more and find others to whom I could relate in these matters.

It was hard. There was no huge assortment of “Wicca for beginners” books available, as there is today. I was lucky to find two books on witchcraft at the local library. Even now, a trip to the downtown Seattle Public Library finds fewer selections on witchcraft than the chain bookstore up the street. Funny that the Seattle Public Library has several bookcases full of selections on religious studies of a Judeo-Christian nature, but only a handful of titles on Wicca. It strikes me that ignorance and prejudice still rear their ugly little heads, even in the free-thinking culture of Seattle.

Since my childhood hometown library yielded some results, I also checked bookstores. I discovered that an independent bookstore in town sold Tarot cards. As my ethnic background is Hungarian Gypsy, Tarot cards were considered okay in our household. I believe it was my elder sister who said, “Tarot cards are okay, Mom. They’re like astrology.” I started collecting them with allowance money. I scanned the shelves at that store, looking at the selections. Seeing books by Starhawk classified as “women’s studies,” in my youthful ignorance I didn’t even pick one up.

After a few visits to the bookshop, a woman behind the counter began to chat with me about the Tarot cards. I did not get to know her personally, but looking back I would say that she, like I, was searching and knew there was some way of connecting out there, but we just didn’t have a vehicle to find it.

For most, it was the true witch-shop that connected them. Generally in larger cities, shops specializing in occult merchandise and books became small magnets for like-minded individuals. In a small town, you relied on mail order catalogs. I bought my first athamé via the mail and even a “spell kit.”

Because neo-paganism is a minority spiritual system or religion, its adherents have generally already broken some ties to the cultural mainstream. Our practices require of us new ways of thinking and rethinking previously accepted norms. We do not have a sacred scripture to keep us all in a line, so we are ever seeking and learning new ideas. All the while, we rediscover the beliefs and practices of our ancestors. The use of the Internet is a natural enhancement for these quests.

The Internet can be so helpful in learning that you’d have to be a fool to stay away from it, in my opinion. It is in essence a huge library. All you do is type a word on your computer, and pictures and text are presented on any subject. I use the Internet for news, weather, shopping and especially for e-mail. Like a telephone call, e-mail is immediate, but unlike a phone call it does not interrupt. The receiver can get the communication whenever is a good time for the receiver.

The pagan community using the Internet is large and diverse. Made up of so many creative people and free thinkers, this graphic and opinionated medium was an easy hit. Today, there are thousands of pagan-related Web sites, Webrings that link sites together, e-mail lists, chat rooms and even virtual covens that have sprung up. We already knew that our magick was transcending time and space. Why not use the computer to further this transcendence to commune with other like-minded individuals? Many of these are separated by great physical distance and, yes, time (it’s afternoon here, but it’s tomorrow morning in Japan). Nevertheless, virtual covens communicate via e-mail and online chat-rooms. Rituals are held online, often using a graphic interface that each member can watch on his or her computer during the ritual.

Where to start? Most people have some search feature on the start page of their Internet service provider. According to Lycos, one of these search engines, of the top 1000 most widely searched-for Web topics, the subject of witchcraft ranked 72 and Wicca ranked 91. A search on the word “Wicca” I just did brings up 59,305 Web sites. That’s right, 59,305 individual listings of Web sites you could look at on the subject. Witchcraft brings up a whopping 108,542!

Such a list is hard to sort through, with many of the listings being redundant or actually off the topic you are looking for. The Internet is so extensive as to be almost too big to handle. I have a suggestion. There is one site in particular that stands out among all the thousands to choose from.

The Witches Voice Web site, Witchvox (www.witchvox.com), is a nonprofit organization. Wren Walker, Fritz Jung and Peg Aloi created the organization and Web site in 1997. Wren and Fritz had both previously done work for the Witches League for Public Awareness. They currently operate out of their home in Clearwater, Florida. The Witches Voice is one of the most widely used religious Web sites in the world, having registered since its creation over 30,850,000 pages viewed! Their tagline, “Those who walk in love and truth shall grow in honor and strength,” clearly reflects their honest, noble cause.

Each week, an update is posted, reflecting current events in the pagan community worldwide. The site is extensive, with 34 chapters containing 3410 Web pages. There are over 5000 working links and over 39,000 personal connections verified every three months. The site is rich in graphics, yet with no annoying advertisements. The Witchvox staff does not take any money for the work they do and state they never have and never will. The Witches’ Voice is funded by the community only.

To quote from their Web site, “The Witches’ Voice provides the information, resources, educational materials, networking sections, latest news and all of the other support documents on the Web site to everyone free of charge. What you don’t see on the site are the more personal letters and information packets that are sent to local agencies, schools and individuals, the many hours of research, the discussions with mainstream media on issues that affect pagans, the phone calls offering emotional support and guidance and all the other ways the staff supports the pagan community.”

I use the Witchvox site for many reasons. Sometimes I just browse the well-organized links section and learn about different Craft traditions. One will find widdershins.org and several other Pacific Northwest links. Maybe I want to learn about pagan musicians or an Internet pagan “radio” address. “Wren’s Nest” offers the latest news and is a credited source for my own news column, the Speculum. There are surveys and essays written by community members from all over the world.

The site encourages and accepts sponsorship donations from those that deem its mission of value, and the site uses those funds to pay for communication costs and for donations to events or situations in the community that need help.I can best offer more information by simply quoting the site:

· Witchvox does not teach Wicca or Witchcraft, nor do we promote our personal spiritual beliefs on this site. We offer some of the more popular tenets to those outside of this community in an effort to help them better understand who we are and what we do. Witchvox is about supporting and celebrating the work of the local communities. We are constantly approached for interviews by some of the most famous publications in the world. We defer 85 percent of these requests to witches, Wiccans and pagans at the local level.

· The Witches’ Voice will never be about titles, degrees or fame. Our focus will always be related to the work itself. We live in a world of spin, idle promises and hype. It is our observation that the work will ultimately speak for itself.

· The Witches’ Voice is a community effort; we don’t pay writers or famous names for articles. Even if we could afford to do this, it’s doubtful that we would do it. We are a site by the community… for the community. All are welcome to submit articles and always have been. Notable pagans are encouraged to share their wisdom and experiences.

· The “pages viewed” stats on our splash page are indeed real. They have been faithfully culled from our server logs from day one. They indicate a running daily total of both Witchvox.com and Witchvox.net. Witchvox.com stats are added daily, and Witchvox.net stats are only added at the end of the month. At present, we are pacing at close to 35,000 pages viewed on a daily basis. If you prefer to work with the concept of “hits” (page elements) you can multiply that number by 5; if your preference is for actual visitors, divide this number by 5.

· The Witchvox focus is on the present day and the present way. To us everyone is special and valid in their own personal beliefs. All you have to do to get “featured” here is to do something for the community. We don’t care if you found this path last month or 25 years ago. We do “lean into” individuals and groups that consistently work for the community. Current selfless work, for the good of all, means everything to us.

· The Witchvox staff have no desire to impose our own personal morals on anyone. “An it harm none, do what ye will” — we do maintain a strong sense of ethics. We encourage honesty and direct contact by anyone that has concerns related to what we do.

· We have a rich history of answering 99 percent of our e-mail on a daily basis (we sure have received a mountain of it). We do not participate in “he said/she said” gossip and do not respond to background bitching. Our e-mail addresses are accessible via links at the bottom of all of our pages.

· As always, our goal is to create solutions that are both valuable and useful to the pagan community. Both Witchvox.com and Witchvox.net are here for your news and networking needs. Use them with our love.

· Use the Internet! Start with The Witches’ Voice, www.witchvox.com, and you’re on a firm launching pad for all of your neo-pagan spiritual explorations through cyberspace.

One Pagan Steps Out of the Broom Closet

One Pagan Steps Out of the Broom Closet

 

by L. Lisa Harris

In days past, stepping out of the broom closet meant sitting at the dinner table and blurting out, “Mom, I’m a witch,” then waiting for her to accept the fact and ask you questions, or faint dead away. She might tell you it was a phase you were going though or refuse to talk to you for a period of time. As a general rule, if it wasn’t accepted, it never left the dinner table. It just wouldn’t do to air the family’s dirty laundry to the neighbors (what would they think?).

Today, it could still be as simple as telling a trusted co-worker that you go to circle, instead of church, or explaining to a potential significant other why there is 7-inch dagger on a small table next to your bed. You might even be lucky enough to be outed by your 9-year-old child, who in an argument with a neighborhood kid yells, “Yeah, well, my mom’s a witch, and I’m going to go get her right now.”

However, with the advent of the Internet, one’s “witchiness” (along with anything else of interest) can be world news in a matter of seconds, as I quickly learned. The speed at which such information can travel and how far it can get can be quite surprising, even for one who is “out of the broom closet.” You can give in an interview to the local paper, and the next thing you know, you’re getting e-mail from Australia.

My adventure in pagan PR and world news began early last winter when I received a phone call from Steve Maynard of the Tacoma News Tribune advising me that he was planning to do a feature story on the Earth Centered Spirituality Group at the Unitarian Universalist (UU) Church in Tacoma, which I have facilitated for the past two and a half years. Steve covers religion for the paper and was slowly but surely making progress with his editor in getting earth-centered events covered on the religion page. We both knew he had a long way to go before he would be permitted to treat our group as the paper did other religious groups when, last Easter season, his editor would not allow him to use the word “pagan” when he was describing a UU church service in which elders read children stories of how four traditions (pagan, Hebrew, Christian and Unitarian) celebrated the Easter season.

I was expecting his feature story to be on the religion page, as we were just beginning to get calendar space in the Saturday edition in that section. Imagine my surprise when he told me that it was going to be the cover for the “Sound Life” magazine section and that there was also going to be a photo layout. He was even going to use the words “pagan” and “witch.” For a moment, I couldn’t believe it. All the months of pestering him and sending press releases and information had paid off. We were going to be taken seriously. We were going to have a chance to let Western Washington know what we were and what we weren’t. I was elated.

But on the drive home from work, I asked myself, “What was I thinking?” A nice little column on the religion page was one thing, but to be on the magazine cover of a Sunday edition was another matter. I have been “out” with my family and friends for 13 years and even wear a triple moon pentacle at work, where I have no problem educating those who would malign others’ religion out of ignorance. But when I thought about the conservative Christian parents of the girls I coach in softball and volleyball on the South Hill of Puyallup reading in the Sunday paper about their coach being a witch, something in my stomach did a double back-flip with a twist. I had visions of girls being pulled from the team by parents who didn’t want them corrupted by that “tool of Satan,” other kids not being allowed to play with my daughter and picketers throwing rocks in front of the church. Steve and I had been working towards this for almost a year and a half, so it was no small matter that I found myself reconsidering the wisdom of the situation.

Most witches I know would meditate or cast a circle and ask the Goddess for guidance when dealing with an important situation like this. My goddess never waits for me to do that. I’ve learned to deal with it. She likes to slip into the passenger seat of my car when I’m trying to drive home at the end of a busy day or corner me when I’m in the bathroom and can’t get up and leave because my pants are around my ankles. This time she chose the car, and she really let me have it. “You’re the one that wanted to be a warrior. Now you’re given a chance to battle ignorance and you’re afraid? Don’t be a wimp! Get out there and act like a priestess, not a weenie!” I don’t recommend dedicating yourself to the Morrigane unless you’re the type of person who can stand up to a drill sergeant without flinching. Of course, as I remember it, I didn’t have a lot of say in the matter. She chose me.

About the time I was feeling completely unworthy, my cell phone rang. It was my daughter letting me know that she was home from school. “Honey, how would you feel if the next article about me was in a bigger paper than the last one?” I asked.

“Um, okay, why?” she replied, her mouth overly full of partially chewed banana. I explained that it would be a front page spread and my picture was likely to be in it. More chewing, and another “Um, okay” followed the sound of the fridge being rummaged through. I asked her what her friends would think if they saw the article, and she assured me that her friends don’t read anything other than the horoscopes, music reviews and comics.

“How would you feel if one of your friends wouldn’t hang out with you anymore because your mom’s a witch?”

“I don’t think that would happen,” she said.

“But what if it did?” I pushed.

She swallowed the rest of her banana, which I’m sure was not properly chewed, and in her best exasperated-adolescent voice said, “Well, that wouldn’t make them very good friends, now, would it? Can I go over to Morgan’s?” So much for the girl being traumatized by it. That was one excuse gone. I reminded her to chew with her mouth closed and take smaller bites, then hung up the phone.

The next call came in right on schedule, from Hubby, who was on his break at work. “Hi, honey, how would you feel if all the guys in the break room at work read in the paper that I’m a witch?” I asked, thinking that there was no point in beating around the bush since he only had 10 minutes to talk.

His response was immediate and enthusiastic, “Cool!” he said. “When will it come out? I’d love for some of those dumb, right-wing conservative jerks I argue politics with to see it, so that I can yank their chain.” When he found out it would be in the Sunday edition, he was extremely disappointed he wouldn’t be there at work to watch the looks on his co-workers’ faces when they read it. It would have been amusing, since I used to work in the same place and know all of them. Great, Hubby wasn’t going to be an excuse either. I was going to have to go through with it.

The next step was to set up interviews and photo opportunities. The interviews weren’t going to be a problem. I’d been talking to Steve for over a year and a half and had sent him volumes of information. How much was there that he could possibly ask? I found out that there was plenty. It seemed that the more information I gave him, the more questions he had. He found that the more people he talked to and the more research he did, the more disagreement on basic issues he found. After a month of spending my lunch hours, breaks and time after work talking to Steve, I still couldn’t come up with answers to some questions other than, “Well, if you ask 30 people that question, you’ll likely get 30 different answers.”

I could hear him shaking his head on the other end of the phone line, but he kept with it. He interviewed Ph.D.s, ministers, theologians, authors and other high priestesses in the local community. He attended Tarot classes and rune workshops that we put on in order to get a better understanding of what our group does and interviewed several people at those classes to get a feel for the local community.

The photo editor wanted to photograph a ritual. “We don’t allow photographers at our rituals,” I explained. When I offered to set something up with people who didn’t mind being photographed, he told me that at the paper they “don’t like things that are staged.” “Great!” I muttered to myself. I already had a Brigid ritual to write, a class on the runes to put together and lines to memorize for a Candlemas ritual that another group was putting on. I knew that the only way the layout was going to work would be to put on a real working with participants who didn’t mind being photographed. I made the offer of a special ritual, with a real working, and once he was convinced it wouldn’t be “staged” and I had his agreement the photographer would not disrupt the flow of the ritual, the date was set. I put out a call to the local pagan e-mail lists for volunteers who didn’t mind being photographed.

Getting the volunteers was much easier than I had imagined, and I was rather pleased with how things were working out. The difficult part, I discovered, was going to be finding a ritual that wouldn’t expose material that many in the pagan community would consider “inappropriate” for public use or that would offend or exclude anyone. I soon discovered that what some considered “outer court” material, suitable for any public occasion, others considered “oath-bound.” I was also faced with the fact that just because something is published and sitting on a shelf at Borders doesn’t mean that it isn’t considered oath-bound by one tradition or another. I suddenly had to worry about being pagan politically correct.

Then there were the personal preferences of those who were going to be in the circle. My Wiccan friends didn’t want a Wiccan ritual “performed” for the media. Some of the pagans didn’t want to be confused with witches, the neo-pagans didn’t want to be confused with “New Agers,” my Brit-trad friends didn’t want to be mistakenly identified as Unitarians, and some of the Unitarians didn’t want to be labeled at all. I had 17 ritualists with 17 different ideas of what would and wouldn’t be appropriate.

As I sat at my computer, staring out the window at the woods out back, I thought to myself, “If my close friends and those who trust me to present paganism to the media are this fired up, what about all the pagans who are going to read this in the paper and had no say in the matter? What are they going to think?” Suddenly I went from feeling like a champion of those who suffer religious oppression to feeling like someone not worthy of the task. I had lost count of the number of people who thought that no reporter could be trusted and that I was making a huge mistake. But I had been talking to Steve for a long time. I knew him. I knew what he wanted to accomplish and trusted him to do right by us. I thought I was doing a good thing, and it seemed that it just ticked everyone off. Visions of angry pagans wanting my hide were added to the already scary ones of crosses burning on my lawn or windows being broken at the church by those who fear us. More doubt filled my mind. I tried to brush it away as quickly as I could. I really wasn’t up for a bathroom visit from a ticked-off goddess. I was starting to get a headache.

Two glasses of wine later, I had decided that we would use only published material, to which I would make some changes so that no tradition’s sacred material would be exposed to the media. The ritual would be a working for community understanding, which seemed fitting for a media event. I scanned my bookshelves, literally sagging under the weight of what my hubby considers my “excessive” book collection, hoping that something would present itself.

I noticed my old dog-eared copy of The Spiral Dance sticking out a bit farther than the other books on the shelf. “Starhawk! She knows how to deal with the public and fight for the cause. I don’t really think she’d mind if I borrowed a few things,” I told myself. I found a ritual written by Alan Acacia titled “A Circle for Healing During Struggle,” which fit in perfectly with what we were planning. I modified it to be less priestess-centered and to have the quarters read their parts themselves. I picked out some nice invocations to the God and Goddess, and soon I had a basic ritual ready to go.

The ritual was beautiful, so beautiful in fact that I forgave my friend Dana without even giving her a hard time for calling me a “circle Nazi” in rehearsal. Everyone showed up in festive clothing and colorful robes. People who came to sit and watch but didn’t want to risk being “outed” by being in the circle were drawn in; they just couldn’t stay out. The quarter callers performed their parts perfectly, the candles all stayed lit, and our sound and lighting person hit every musical cue. We passed a small cauldron, which was later lit, around the room, so that each person in turn could hold it and speak aloud what they hoped to accomplish with the ritual. Everyone was so eloquent and sincere and came up with such wonderful, positive wishes that the reporter was frantic trying to copy them all down. We danced a spiral to raise energy, and everyone in that room could feel a strong, palpable force, even the photographer. We had been asked prior to the ritual to send healing energy to a critically ill girl who was on a respirator in a children’s hospital, so we added that to our ritual working and sent it all flying out of the circle in a powerful stream of golden light. Afterwards, everyone in the circle had a look on his or her face as if they had just had amazing sex. I’d call that good energy.

At 4 a.m. on February 8, after weeks of worries and what ifs, I drove down the hill to the mini-mart to get a copy of the paper. I took a deep breath, readying myself in case it wasn’t really there or my trust in the reporter had been misplaced. On the cover of the “Sound Life” section was a full color picture of the ritualists with their outstretched arms, adorned with rings, bracelets and colorful robes, sending healing energy to the ill girl, and the headline “Pagans at Peace.” The light bouncing off of the sanctuary wall in the background looked just like a ball of gold light being tossed out to the universe. There were pictures of the rune workshop and flaming cauldrons. I must say it was possibly the best article I have ever seen on paganism in the mainstream press. Steve had even quoted Christian clergy to explain what attracts seekers to witchcraft and paganism. Yes, there were some things left out, and a couple of people didn’t think that the press should have made it sound like all pagans share a common set of beliefs. All I could do was say, “Well done, Steve. Thank you.” (To see the story, check out “NEW !!! UUAT In the News” under http//members.nbci.com/uuatearth/.)

There were no picketers in front of the UU church that morning. No threatening messages had been left on the answering machine there or at home. Everyone in the church was excited about the article, and some new people even showed up because of it. A friend who works in a local hospital arrived at work to find the article pinned to the bulletin board and a request for pagan clergy posted. The hospital staff had taken notice of the article section that spoke of pagan hospital patients not having access to clergy services. Now there is a group in Pierce County putting together a program to get pagan clergy registered with local hospitals.

The article made it around the globe in a few hours, thanks to the Internet mailings lists and bulletin boards. It made at least two appearances in the “Wren’s Nest” section of The Witches Voice Web site, and I received congratulations from Circle Sanctuary. Soon I started receiving e-mail messages from all over the world. One told me how the article came at a perfect time to show to a judge in a child custody battle in which the mother’s Wiccan religion was being used against her. Another letter told of a case where a young girl was missing and the local media had blamed it on the fact that she had visited a Web site on Wicca. The story went out on the Howard-Scripps News Service and was reprinted in several other newspapers, sparking a whole new batch of letters, all with similar stories and gratitude to Steve for portraying us in a positive light, not just as a media curiosity at Halloween, as many newspapers do.

When it was apparent that nothing bad was going to happen because of the article, I was almost disappointed. I wasn’t going to have to do battle against ignorance or have an exciting and dangerous story to tell in Widdershins. I came to realize, though, that I did have a story to tell. It isn’t about confrontation or hate. It is about battling my own fear and self-doubt. It is a story of a group of people who came together, regardless of personal risk, to accomplish a goal for the greater community. It is the story of a little girl who got off of a respirator and is back home with her family, who incidentally are not pagan.

Get Your Pagan Self into the Woods

Get Your Pagan Self into the Woods

article

by Catherine Harper

While the pagan religions are frequently generically classified as “nature-based,” pagan culture and practice often seems to grow and flourish the most in and around urban centers. The density of people and social volatility, the greater tendency toward liberalism and an atmosphere that encourages the exchange of ideas … it’s not hard to see why. And perhaps in the cities, where at times our relationship to the natural world seems strange and contorted, we feel most strongly the need for that connection.

(Of course, I sometimes question the whole classification. Not all pagan traditions are so closely tied to real or imagined agricultural roots. And while all may be said to be tied to nature, what then does that not cover? The sky turns equally over city, meadow or forest. There are seasons on the street, as there are on a mountain, and wilderness of a sort in an industrial basin. Unless we are to posit that humans, or the works of humans, stand outside of nature, what does the phrase “nature-based” really mean? But not to belabor the point — many people in the pagan and magical communities feel drawn to, or some reverence toward places and systems of life where the touch of humans is less evident.)

One of the changes in my own practice, over the years, has been a gradual shift of interest away from magical forms and rituals toward a simpler practice dealing with direct connection and experience and contemplation. From being a city girl, fascinated with the natural world but having limited wherewithal to explore it outside of an urban environment, I’ve moved out a bit further, planted my garden, learned to drive, picked up a good pair of boots and sought a portion of my connection with the natural cycles among the mountains, among trees and streams, flowers and mushrooms, snow, sun, wind and rain.

I don’t do a lot of formal ritual anymore. In the woods, if I do anything more than just being there, it is usually simple. A small pile of stones by the side of a stream. A candle lit in darkness. A charm woven of needles or grass, hung from the branch of a tree as a gift and remembrance. I go into the mountains far less to change them than to be changed by them, that the malleable stuff that is my substance may be shaped by these other forces, vast and enduring.

Although there can be a lot of power in ritual, I find that for me the undeniable reality of these experiences grounds me, giving me a simpler but firmer foun-dation. At some level, I may strip down and plunge into a snow-melt fed stream for purification. But even more important, it is simply that I am there, the stream is there and that my soft skin comes to know that water. (Brrr!) I touch, and am touched; the symbol fades before the reality.

There is a feeling among many people that spending time in the wild is something that pagans ought to do. I think such a sense of obligation can only do us harm — there are as many ways of being pagan as there are people who so identify. It seems best to me to strive to understand our own callings and approach those things with delight. (Especially since most of us are already called to many things, and finding balance amidst such abundance is already no simple task.) And yet, it does seem like I know a lot of people who would like to spend more time in the woods, or mountains or untended places by the sea, but who don’t, not even because of the press of time and events by themselves, but because the initial steps are a little too unknown, the research a little too time-consuming, the equipment not entirely familiar. At any one time, that first trip out — or perhaps the second, or fourth — takes a little more preparation than that trip is quite worth.

And so I have for you a modest guide that I hope will help you on your way if you are wanting to get out for the first few times.

What to Bring

Clothing: The basic rule is comfortable, sturdy clothes. Your clothing should allow you to move freely, including scrambling over the odd pile of rocks, or other kinds of moving that might not be part of your everyday life. It should not be likely to be damaged by branches or thorns and it should protect you from the same. Wearing multiple layers is practical, as they can be added or removed to adjust for changing conditions. And conditions do change, the cool day turning blazing hot, the sunny day turning into a thunderstorm. Cotton, as comfortable as it is for many situations, is often not the best choice — it absorbs water too readily and dries too slowly, and so often is cold and uncomfortable when wet. If you have them, lightweight wicking fabrics will serve you well. You can also count on wool, when it’s practical.

Footwear: Good, well-fitted hiking boots are one of the best investments I can recommend for anyone. But if you aren’t hiking more than a few miles, and don’t have ankles that are unusually susceptible to being twisted, any pair of sturdy, supportive shoes will do. Keep in mind that trails are often muddy. Bring waterproof shoes if you have them, and remember that thick wool (or hi-tech synthetic) socks will give you better cushioning and will function better when wet. Also, if you’re going to be walking more than is your usual habit, it’s really not a good time to break in new shoes.

Protective gear: At minimum, I’d recommend a lightweight, water-resistant jacket. (I have one that packs to about the size of an orange.) A hat with a brim for keeping water or sun out of your eyes can be a good idea, as can sunglasses, though it does depend a bit on the time of year and weather. If it’s hot, and you don’t want to cover up, bring sunscreen. Insect repellant is often a good idea too.

Companionship: It’s easy to both over- or understate the hazards of time spent in the wilderness or relative wilderness. One is fairly unlikely to run into serious predators, human or otherwise. But even minor injuries can become serious if they prevent you from returning to the comforts of civilization. (I once fell while climbing up the side of a ravine not much more than a mile from where I lived, putting a deep slash, almost six inches long, up the inside of my leg. Not very far out, but far enough so that no one could hear me. I did get the bleeding to stop, and hobbled home, but it was a sobering event.) These dangers are greatly, greatly lessened by not going alone. It is, to be fair, a rule that almost everyone breaks sometimes. But think about it.

Navigational Material: Classically, you should carry a map and compass. Though if you’re not used to navigating by these means, I don’t know how much they’ll help you. Bring tools appropriate to your trail, whatever it may be — directions, a map, a GPS… and if the trail requires more than you know how to use, save it for another day. Remember, also, that it’s easier to get turned around once you’re off a trail than it might seem.

Other Basics

Food: Even if you don’t think you’ll need it, even if it’s just a sports bar or a handful of trail mix, bring some kind of food.

Water: Same deal. Except more so. (After one 3-mile hike that turned out to be a very thirsty 10-and-a-half-mile hike, I always carry water-purification tablets in my purse as backup, though I use a pump filter if I’m hiking seriously. But this is probably overkill for most people.)

First Aid Kit: You can go fairly minimalist. Most of the time, it will probably go unused, but those few other times you’ll be happy to have it.

Flashlight: Again, you may not intend to be out after dark, but things happen.

Where to Go

Twin Falls, Ollalie State Park: This is one of my all-time favorite short hikes, and even better for being only a short drive from the city. A nice, fairly flat walk along a rushing river surrounded by wildflowers. And then the trees thicken into forest, and there’s a bit of a hill climb to an overlook to the falls. Then down, around, and up again, past more flowers, more river and some really wonderful old trees, and you reach a bridge suspended between two cliffs, offering excellent views of both falls. From the bridge you can follow the trail up to another overlook or two, or simply call it a day and turn back. (The trail eventually connects to a multi-user interstate trail, which, although convenient, is not nearly as scenic.) About 3 miles round trip to the overlook above the bridge.

To get to Ollalie State Park, take I-90 east to exit 34. At the bottom of the exit, turn right, and follow the road until the last left turn before a bridge (which is marked with a sign saying “Twin Falls” or something to that effect). Take that left, drive until you reach the parking area.

Barclay Lake: Barclay Lake is a little farther out, and perhaps a shade longer than the last hike, but less steep. It’s a rougher trail (if you have a tendency toward twisted ankles, make sure you’re wearing supportive boots) through woods with some of the most impressive mosses, shelf fungus and contorted logs that look like trolls. There’s a certain amount of scrambling over logs and some bridges that aren’t much more than logs, along a beautiful stream and at last to a mountain lake. It’s around three miles round trip, with only about 100 feet of elevation gain.

To get to Barcklay Lake, take Highway 2 eastbound, through Index, into the town of Baring. You will see a sign marked “Forest Service Road 6024 next left” and indeed, this is the left you want to take, even though it crosses the train tracks and becomes a fairly piddling road. It then turns into a gravel track, which you follow for about 4.5 miles until you reach the trail head.

The Old Robe Trail: Rushing water. Big trees. Fallen rocks the size of houses. Dark tunnels to creep through. This is one of the most dramatic easy hikes you’re likely to run across. Parking at the trail head, you’ll head down a hill and then across a mostly flat old railroad grade trail along the side of the river. At some points, portions of the trail have washed out. These are still navigable with caution, but do require that caution.

Take Highway 9 until you see a right turn onto Highway 92, toward Granite Falls. Follow 92 into Granite Falls, until it Ts out. Turn left onto the Mountain Loop Highway. (The last few times I’ve been in Granite Falls there has been construction.) About 7 miles out of Granite Falls you’ll see a sign on your right marking the Old Robe Trail.

Further Resources

Washington State is netted with trails. The Mountaineers have lots of publications giving descriptions and directions to many of them (including wonder books aimed at niches — best hikes for kids, best short hikes, best hikes with dogs…). Their Web site is www.mountaineersbooks.org. It lists the books available. There is also a good selection of these and other trail guides at REI, www.rei.com, which is a good source for any additional gear you might want as well.

What’s All This About “And Harm None”?

What’s All This About “And Harm None”?

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by Freya Ray

“Do what you will, and harm none.” What does that mean, exactly? Why on earth would any community hamstring itself with a fundamental motto so basically impossible to live up to? When you think about it, it’s crazy, right?

The Jains, those intensely wacked-out Hindu-type people who believe all life is sacred — and I mean all life — they try. They go barefoot so they don’t inadvertently crush any little critters. They eat no animals. They wear a cloth across their mouth so they don’t inhale a bug. Now that’s devotion to a creed.

Does it work for them? If you play it out logically, any food they eat is taking food from the mouths of other creatures. In India, this equation is even more apparent than here, the land of the surplus. I’m sure Jains roll over during the night and squish caterpillars, brush gnats out of their ears with a little too much force and kill them dead, dead, dead or eat some rice with little cooked rice-eating bugs in it. Not to mention the damage that is inflicted to all the tiny dandruff-eating mites that inhabit our bodies with every belly scratch. You can run it up the food chain, too. The rice that the devout Jain eats is grown on land that is therefore not used to grow hay, and he could be causing the death of a cow through his own feeding.

Please indulge me, and allow me to run through a similarly ludicrous examination of a good little witchy person trying earnestly to do no harm. Say she wants to draw love into her life. She does a nice little ritual to draw a mate to her, being terribly careful not to make any specific requests about any particular individual, so as to not infringe on anyone’s free will. She disposes of any leftover ritual props in sharps containers or recycle bins and dumps nothing into a storm drain. She just wants to be happy, after all, and thinks she needs a mate in her life to be happier, although of course she’s fully aware that true happiness comes from being full in yourself and wouldn’t ever dream of needing to be rescued from her loneliness, although it might be nice to have sex again before she dies.

You with me? Now what happens? Anything. She’s altered the energetic balance of the universe, moving energy and intent toward a specific purpose. She’s shaken things up, sending out a “Now!” signal into the void. She might get someone, but not a very good someone but only what was available at the moment. She might get the letter of what she asked for but not the intent, because the deities are crafty bastards. She might run around after the ritual radiating sexual readiness in such an overtly enticing way she provokes a normally faithful partner to start hitting on her, causing his girlfriend to dump him. Any of these scenarios are possible, and any of them can result in heartbreak and angst for all of the players involved. Or worse, she might get what she wants, be deliriously happy, pissing off her bitter single girlfriends and losing all her pals.

Go on, play this game yourself. Ask yourself, when did I do ritual asking for something? How did it go wrong, in ways I might have anticipated but didn’t? If you’ve been playing with fire, you’ve been burned, unless you’re perfect, and then why are you reading me?

Then there’s ritual for other specific purposes. You might do a ritual of protection for yourself after a bad relationship, a woo-woo restraining order. A year later you realize you haven’t had sex since the circle went up, and guess why? Think of the untold harm this has brought all your potential sex partners during that period of time! The heartbreak!

You do a healing circle. After the circle, one participant has a nervous breakdown, another ends a long-term relationship, another quits his job and becomes an artist. Harm, or not? The nervous breakdown might lead to breakthrough healing, but then it might be the frying caused by too much energy running through a system unprepared for it. The end of the relationship might be good and long overdue, or it might be the result of someone high from endorphins released by letting go of old baggage who decides she’s too good for the partner who stood by her through carrying all the baggage, and if she stuck around another six weeks they’d have been happy together forever. The artist — following his dream or caught up in a Bohemian fantasy? Living his path or abandoning his responsibility to pay child support every month?

How on earth is one to tell?

Spirit can probably keep track of all the ramifications of individual events, but humans can’t. As to judging whether individual results are boon or bane, I’m not entirely convinced Spirit keeps score that way. When we do, it only makes for extensive confusion, and worse.

“And harm none” is a great idea for keeping Fluffbunny Artemis Moonriver from casting a spell to bring Peter Trent, the boy next door and man of her dreams, to her bed, despite his complete and utter lack of interest in giggling little Artemis. It’s a good motto to try and dissuade High Priestess Arachne Wolfspawn from casting a curse unto the seventh generation on the landlord who wouldn’t refund her security deposit because of the teensy little cigarette burns in the carpet. It’s a fine thing to attempt to keep Lord Wizard Aleister SexGod of the Ninth Circle from “initiating” all his “novices” with mushrooms and “tantric sex magick.” I’m not sure it works, but it’s a nice idea, and well worth repeating.

What effect does it have on those with both a conscience and a brain, though? You work to learn responsible magical practices. You sweat the language for your rituals, trying to envision all the possible consequences. You set up support groups and phone trees for helping people who crash after ritual. You do giveaway work more often than you ask for anything for yourself; you try not to offend people in the supermarket.

Good for you.

After a while, you realize you’ve PC’d yourself into a little box, and you can’t really remember why this whole Wiccan thing was so appealing in the first place. Wasn’t there some original moment of power and glory when you touched all of creation, throbbed with majestic spiritual strength, knew your divinity? Wasn’t there some seminal idea about living without compromising yourself to your dominant culture; following your own heart, creating your own reality?

Screw it, then. I mean, assuming you’ve got a conscience and a brain. If you don’t, then you don’t need my words as an excuse to bungle things up wildly all around you all the time.

I let that idea, harm none, lead me away from the place where I radiated power all the time. I got tired of people (only some of them, some of the time, but still … harm none) jumping back out of a hug as if they’d been shocked. I got tired of people calling me after a two-hour first date to tell me their stuff was suddenly all up in their face and they were in no way ready for a relationship. I got tired of people shrinking from eye contact as if I were overwhelming their circuits by beaming lasers from my eyes.

I mean, it’s not like I’m Guru Mai, right? I’m not offering shaktiput, elevating the consciousness of devotees with a glance, touch or hug. I’m not part of some grand tradition where running current at a zippy frequency is celebrated.

No, I was making people uncomfortable. I was doing too much meditation, too much energy work, too many readings, too much talking to God, too much teaching and ritual. Too much. I was too much.

So I stopped. I watched a lot of TV, I stopped meditating, I turned my attention to writing rather than all the other stuff that required my being terribly amped up. Readings I can still do, even when I’m not crackling with juice. Energy work, no. But it was fine, really.

Until I realized consciously what I had done. In seeking to harm none through least common denominator thinking, I had removed a significant portion of my light from the world. I wasn’t making people uncomfortable anymore, but neither was I challenging them to grow and giving them a little nudge with catalytic energy. I wasn’t radiating at the highest frequency possible for me, the one that brings me the most joy.

It’s a lot more fun being all amped up. If I thought about it, I could list the harm I brought the world by damping my energy down, but the other kind of harm was much more in my face. It’s a Wonderful Life, and all that.

That’s my point, then. Screw `em. Do what you reasonably can to act ethically and responsibly, but don’t sweat it, trying to find the perfectly harm-free path. It can’t be done. Harm happens. Every action you take, every word you speak, is going to have consequences, more of them unforeseen than foreseen. That’s life!

Take a deep breath and do what you are moved to do. If you expand the first part of the creed to “Do what you will, as guided by spirit, your intuition, your wisdom and your conscience,” you’re probably going to be fine.

There will be consequences. You’ll deal with them when they happen. But don’t let the fear of them stop you from charging yourself up, radiating light, learning energy work or asking for what you want. I’ve got the army slogan running through my head now: “Be all that you can be!” Whatever. So it’s hokey. Do it anyway.

Screw it. Do what you will, as best you can.

A Walk on the Wild Side: A Lifetime Finding Magick in Nature

A Walk on the Wild Side: A Lifetime Finding Magick in Nature

 

by L. Lisa Lawrence

When I sit back and try to identify my first significant spiritual experiences, I can’t come up with just one but rather a series of experiences that share a common bond of nature and wilderness. These experiences span my entire lifetime and began when I was too young to understand them.

I was blessed to grow up on the coast. Some of my earliest memories involve running along the waterline dodging the incoming waves picking up seashells, building sand castles and watching the Pacific Ocean crash onto the rocks and cliffs sending its salty spray skyward. I remember the sun setting over the Channel Islands painting the sky orange, pink and purple. I was never as happy anywhere as I was where I could experience the sand, wind, water and blazing sun.

As a small child, barely 3 years old, my heart stopped beating as a result of respiratory arrest induced by an asthma attack while running on my beloved beach. I can’t recall any “white light,” dead relatives or even the paramedics restarting my heart with an intracardiac epinephrine injection, but I did know that my life ended and began again at the edge of the sea. From that day on, I would always be tied to the water. I was literally reborn to it.

Later, farther north on the coast, as an adolescent drawn to the beach and water, I defied my parents and climbed down a treacherous trail from cliffs to the beach below, only to be trapped in a cave by the incoming tide for several hours. I was not afraid but was at peace, knowing that the never-ending cycle of the moon and sea would let me go home when the time was right. I explored the labyrinth of caves and discovered bats, otters and sea lions that were more than willing to share their space with me and didn’t seem the least bit disturbed by my presence. Time stood still while I was in those caves. When I emerged, I was shocked to see the sun setting, and I made my ascent back up the cliff. I returned to those caves many times when I needed a place to just be — although after getting in trouble for worrying my parents, I learned to check the tide tables first.

When I got older and began to expand my geographic horizons, I discovered the foothills, forests and mountains. As a teenager, I rode the bus from my small costal town up into the foothills to work at a fancy inn’s riding stable on weekends and vacations, shoveling horse poop and guiding trail rides for a mere $15 a day, unlike my friends who were working at McDonald’s or in a fashion store in the mall. My reward for all the sore muscles, sunburn, saddle sores and blisters was being able to escape into the hills on my horse, alone. The pressures of a challenging academic program, teen angst and a dysfunctional family disappeared as my chocolate brown gelding and I ascended the steep hills and galloped across meadows with the wind blowing through our hair. Almost every evening, I watched the setting sun turn the Topa Topa Bluffs a bright pink and listened to crickets and coyotes sing a welcoming song to the twilight. I was at peace. I was at home. Only reluctantly would I come down out of the hills, walk two miles to the bus stop and take the hour long ride back down the hill to “real life.”

On the outside, I appeared quite “normal”; I was popular, excelled at sports, held elected office, did well in my classes and was involved in community theater, a church youth group and journalism. But I knew that I was different and often needed to escape to nature, which was the only place that I truly felt at peace. At that point in my life, I didn’t know anyone else that was like me, so being a typical teenager, I just did my best to fit in. I would soon discover that denying your true nature doesn’t work.

If I hadn’t already figured out on my own that I was “different,” it was brought home to me in junior high school when our Methodist Youth Fellowship youth group took a religion test. We were presented with a series of statements and were asked if we agreed or disagreed and on a scale of one to five how strongly we felt about it. Our answers resulted in a numerical score that correlated to a specific religion. Out of the 14 that took the test, 13 scored “First United Methodist,” and I scored “Unitarian.” I’m certain that “pagan,” “witch” and “tree-hugging dirt worshiper” were not included on the test, and that I had, in fact, received the lowest score possible. In our small costal town, the Unitarians were “those pagans on the hill who drink wine and have naked hot tub parties” and were not thought highly of by other churches.

After graduating from high school with honors as part of a group of friends who composed a Who’s Who of well-adjusted overachievers, then graduating from college with a degree in accounting, I spent a year and a half trying to do what was expected of me by taking a stable government job. I tried to force myself to work in a concrete and glass climate-controlled building, and in true overachiever fashion I became the youngest-ever deputy treasurer for the County of Ventura. It wasn’t me. I just couldn’t take it. At the tender young age of 21, I ran off to go fight fires for the Forest Service.

It was there that I found others who also loved nature and needed to be in it as much as possible. Every morning, I would take long hikes in the mountains, encountering bears, mountain lions and eagles that did not react to me as if I was an intruder, but rather as if I belonged there. It was there that I began to have visions of the spirits of the land and to understand my connection to the earth and the meaning of my dreams. I was finally free to be myself and even had others with whom I could openly discuss these things.

Soon, I became a liaison between the federal land management agencies and the local Native American tribes. Tribe members invited me to sacred ceremonies, and elders taught me because they recognized my connection to and dedication to the land. During my time and travels with the Forest Service and Park Service, I was accepted by several tribes.

But I knew that I didn’t belong. I became confused and discouraged that it was okay for the earth to be your religion if you were Native American, but not if you were white. It was as if I was trapped between worlds, not fitting in either. I knew I could never go back to the church I was raised in, and I felt that I would spend my entire life wandering in the wilderness alone, without those of like mind.

As I questioned and explored more, I discovered that my mostly Celtic ancestors also had a tribal culture that honored the earth and that was quite compatible with what I had been taught by Native Americans. I did as much research as I could, found bookstores, covens and teaching circles when they were available in towns near where I was stationed, and I had many mentors and pen pals (this was in the days before the Internet). I finally learned who the woman was who stood at the foot of my bed when someone died or when there was danger. I had inherited my line’s banshee, who skipped a generation from my grandmother to me. I even finally found my way to a few of those “pagan” Unitarian churches.

My formal training enhanced but never took the place of actually being in and connecting to nature. I stood on mountaintops in the Sierra Nevada and Rocky Mountains talking to and honoring the spirits of the land. I sat in sweat lodges in the very womb of the Mother in the Black Hills of South Dakota and had visions that I can’t share here that told me to remain close to the earth. I’ve seen the ancestors in the pueblos of the Southwest and heard the music of the desert.

Each new sacred place in nature taught me a new lesson or introduced me to a new guide; many of them appeared in physical form and would do whatever was necessary to get my attention. High above the Colorado River, a golden eagle buzzed me numerous times and almost knocked me off a 2,000-foot cliff, appearing incensed that I didn’t recognize that it had graced me with its presence and was trying to give me a message. That eagle taught me that there is a message in every encounter and that it is our job to recognize and learn from those messages. It also taught me that the messengers don’t take kindly to being ignored.

I realize that I have come full circle back to the waters of the Pacific. I am blessed to live close to the water and to be able to walk down to it whenever the mood suits me. I often play my fiddle on the water’s edge and find myself in the company of harbor seals, bald eagles and great blue herons. I feel the sun on my face, the wind in my hair and the magick that is all around me. Just as when I was a small child, the water brings me comfort. I experience the elements as sand, wind, sun and salt water, only now I understand what they mean and my connection to them. I am also surrounded by great people who understand as well.

I have met many people over the last 20 years who can be described as “natural witches.” They draw their energy directly from nature, work with herbs and stones for healing and are attuned to the cycles of the earth. Their mysteries come to them directly from nature, and their magick has an organic feel to it. They may or may not have had formal training, but no matter what their experiences, there is something special about them.

My grandmother, a Scorpio, was such a woman, although I don’t think she would have taken kindly to being called a witch; then again, I could be wrong. We never talked about it. She was by all accounts the original “wild woman” and certainly looked the part, with long raven hair cascading around her face and shoulders, reflecting red in the sunlight as she stood in the desert greeting the rising sun. Well into her 60s, she would wander the desert alone in search of stones, herbs and adventure. She lived on her own terms, not giving a rat’s butt what anyone else thought about her, and preferred the company of the earth and its creatures to that of most people. When she did choose the company of others, they were always artists, writers, musicians and other Bohemian types. My mother, in bouts of exasperation with the wild and difficult child I was, often said, “You’re just like your grandmother.” Writer Earl Stanley Gardener wrote a piece about her entitled “The Desert Nightingale.” He knew she was special.

I wish I had been able to recognize and appreciate the magick in her. By the time I grew into an adult and began to understand, she was gone. But her spirit remains in the mountains, desert and ocean, and in me.

How does a woman with a legacy of wildness, whose spirituality is explicitly tied to nature, survive living in an apartment in town? It has been challenging, but it has expanded me.

Six years ago, when I moved to the Pacific Northwest and attended my first indoor circles, I was shocked to find that many groups here held rituals indoors. I couldn’t imagine how anyone could connect with the elements or the gods in a building.

I got over it after experiencing my first winter here. It’s all very well and good to be outdoors, but if your fellow participants are getting pelted with freezing rain, with soaking wet feet in the dark of night, they’re going to be distracted. I work alone and in small circles outside whenever I get the chance, even in crappy weather, but for larger, public events it’s easier to be indoors.

It’s much simpler than I thought to connect to the elements while standing inside a building. Going on a simple guided meditation can connect me to the earth, feeling its coolness, inhaling its heady scent of decomposing leaves and pine needles and reveling in the feeling of fertility. With a little work, something as insubstantial as a few two-by-fours and some shingles isn’t a barrier. If I’m in the proper state of consciousness, it doesn’t even seem to exist.

Even living in a city, wilderness is all around. Wilderness exists at the edge of the water, in a local park or even under a tree in a backyard. I have seen the fey dancing in a hanging basket of flowers on a patio in an apartment complex. The Cascade and Olympic Mountains are a short drive, in a car or on the bus. In a little over two hours, I can be standing on the beach looking out at the vast wilderness that is the Pacific Ocean or across the mountains harvesting sage in the desert.

I have experienced and learned much in the last 20 years from many different sources, but the times in my life spent in direct connection to nature, to the gods, to all this is, without religious structure or human-imposed limitations, have been the most powerful times in my life.

Every place in nature, and in pockets of nature in the city, is sacred. Each place has its own energy, song and spirit guides. Go on… take a walk on the wild side and see where that journey takes you.

Sacred Symbols and the Witch Next Door

Sacred Symbols and the Witch Next Door
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Author: Draekaa

It’s Tuesday at five o’clock. I punch out, lock up my desk, and leave the dreaded office for the evening. As I walk out of the side door, I imagine that I’m going through one of those automatic car washes, and the brushes and water are removing the day’s stresses and negativity from me (I’m a title clerk at a car dealership, and as you can imagine, dealing with the DMV every day tends to build up negativity). By the time I get to my car, I’m feeling good, stress free and ready for the evening. I look up and see another Carolina thunderstorm rolling in. It’s going to be a 30-minute drive in the rain, and that makes me smile.

By the time I meander my way out of the parking lot, the rains have started. I roll down my window and stick my hand out. As I drive down the street, going with the flow at 45 mph, I feel the bite on my palms and wrists. Like thousands of needles, the drops seem to pierce my skin, infusing me with the energy of Water and Wind. My entire left side is soaked, and I don’t seem to mind. The family in the mini-van next to me stares slack-jawed, thinking me to be insane. I feel sorry for them. If they only knew how good this feels, how cleansing it is, their heads would hang out of the windows of the van like Labradors. I turn into the parking lot of the grocery store to pick up something for cakes and ale tonight. The rain is coming down in sheets. Thunder cracks and rumbles, making the ground shake. Lightning strikes are everywhere. A handful of people run to their cars, holding a few grocery bags and covering their large heads with thin arms to shield themselves. I have the sudden urge to strip naked, arms out in childlike joy, and dance in deformed circles throughout the parking lot until I’m dizzy and fall into a puddle, laughing. The only thing stopping me is the patrol car parked nearby, with the cop inside catching up on his paperwork. I stroll leisurely into the store and pass a small group of old southern women staring at me as they huddle just behind the automatic doors waiting for the storm to subside. One of them tells me that I’ll get sick from that, and that I should have at least tried to hurry into the store where it’s dry. I look at her and say, “Water is a sacred symbol. I am Cleansed and Purified by the Mother.”

When I’ve finished my transaction and head out of the store, the rain has slowed to barely more than a drizzle. As I turn out of the parking lot, it has stopped all together. Again, I’ve rolled down my window and stuck my arm out; now it’s just the Air that I feel on my skin. I inhale the crisp smells only detected after a storm. My lungs expand, and I feel the butterflies in my stomach. That smell always seems to rejuvenate me. I pull into my driveway, turn off the car and go inside. I put the cakes and ale in the refrigerator, then head straight for the back door. On my deck, I sit and enjoy the rolling hills and farmland behind my house. The smell of the after rain still clings to the Air. I breathe deeply and close my eyes. I feel at one with the Air, with the sky. A light breeze kisses my face. As the breeze kicks up, it wraps around me, a swirling blanket of the Gods. I am given the gift of the East, Air as its symbol, and I take that with me back into the house.

The rest of the coven arrives. I change into my robes and we go into the altar room to set up. I lead them through the chants and the worship, we dine on the cakes and ale, and we meditate briefly before opening circle. After ritual, we sit and catch up on what’s going on in each other’s lives. We laugh, we talk, and we laugh some more. By 9:30 they show themselves out, and I return to the altar room. I light all of the candles once again and stare into the flame of one of my altar candles. I feel my spirit disconnect from my physical body. I enter a trance, and am lost in the awesome power of the Fire. My mind becomes one with the dancing flame and images flood my head. Insights are gained, wisdoms etched into my psyche to forever become a part of me. My education continues, with the Lord and Lady my teachers. The Fire is a symbol of my knowledge. My passion swells as I strive to learn everything…to know…to be. I become aware that I’ve hit the climax of my trance and feel the cycling down, the beginning of the end of the controlled burn. The images slow, and I am once again aware that it is a candle at which I stare. I thank the Gods for bestowing the gnosis upon me, and carefully extinguish the flame.

I am unaware of the time, and do not care to know. I need to ground myself, but rather than do it inside, I instead choose to take our offerings from ritual and bury it outside in the Earth. In the backyard, I find a small, rich patch of soil. Most of the yard is clay, except for here. I dig deeper than needed. Halfway down I toss aside my trowel, electing instead to feel the Earth in my bare hands. As I dig I allow the energies raised within me to pour down into the Earth. The smell of the grass and weeds and dirt permeate me. I feel calm and relaxed, bathed in the glow of the full moon. Carefully I scrape the offering off of the dish. I close my eyes and feel good, knowing that however small it is, this gift of thanks to the Gods will decompose, and what grows in this spot will receive some extra nutrition. All returns to the Earth in good time. I repack the hole I’ve dug and remain on my knees for a few more minutes. The Earth, our symbol of life, our living organism.

These are the most sacred of symbols, the Elements. Water, Air, Fire and Earth all connect us to the Spirit. I stand up slowly, beginning to feel the effects of exhaustion. I turn my head to the right and see a neighbor peeking out the blinds at me. I think to myself that I’m doing nothing strange here, yet tomorrow morning I’ll be the block’s topic of conversation. A Mona Lisa smile crosses my lips as I wave to her and she quickly moves away from the window. I go back into the house, knowing that I’m just the everyday Witch next door.

Alas, All Barrels Have Their Bad Apples

Alas, All Barrels Have Their Bad Apples
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Author: Ginger Strivelli

It is sad but true; all barrels have their bad apples hidden within.

The Pagan community is not immune to ignorant and/or immoral idiots who call themselves one of us, and then go on to be the worse kind of bad example, spewing bad PR and worse damage in the wake of their stupid if not outright evil behavior.

The problem is, most people do not judge all Muslims by the “bad example” of Osama Bin Laden, or all Christians by the bad example of David Koresh, nor all New Agers by the bad example of the Heaven’s Gate cult. Nonetheless, it seems painfully clear that too often too many people still judge all Pagans and Witches and Wiccans and Druids and other Earth Religionists by the crimes of our few bad apples. Admittedly we’ve had some real rotten-to-the-core ones…and will sadly continue to in the future, most likely. We are open and accepting and loving people and we tend to embrace everyone, even those we shouldn’t. In our inclusive accepting ways we sadly include and accept those who we should not to start with. However, once those bad apples have been pointed out to us, we should stop including and accepting them! That seems simple, but often it is not so clear to Pagan leaders, clergy and communities when faced with a situation where one within their circle surprisingly turns out to be a bad apple.

How can we as a community distance ourselves from these types of bad examples? It is a question we ask each other often. A question we are forced to address way too often when such situations arise where someone within our local Pagan Circles turns out to be an idiot, mentally ill, or actually evil. Woefully, we tend to have some people who call themselves “Pagan” who fit all three categories. Perplexingly, some of our fellow Pagans will balk at denouncing these people…they will urge us to be “understanding” or “forgiving” or “tolerant.” The fact is some things, some people, some behaviors and some crimes are just wrong and not understandable, forgivable, or tolerable. That is a hard lesson: For some of us who have fought long and hard for tolerance and acceptance to realize that everything is not tolerable and acceptable! Some things are just wrong. There is still a line between right and wrong. Just because you are trying to be progressive and open-minded and tolerant doesn’t mean you can just not draw that line between right and wrong…you must draw it somewhere. Even if you draw that line at a different place than the (in your view) narrow-minded greater community, you still must draw the line somewhere!

We in the Pagan community try so hard to be open-minded, we often get so open-minded our brains start to fall out. It is a hard lesson for us to face that we can’t and shouldn’t blindly accept everything and anything, just because we preach acceptance and tolerance of our faith.

An ancient and honorable faith like Witchcraft, Paganism, Druidism, Shamanism, or modern variations thereof, like Wiccans and such, should naturally be accepted; a religion is not intolerable. However, some things, some behaviors, some people are intolerable, and we should stop preaching acceptance when we are faced with such stupidity and/or evilness. Those things do not deserve acceptance. People who practice such behaviors should not be “accepted” or “understood.” They should not be excused with the wand of “tolerance.” They should be exposed, exiled, and executed in some extreme cases with the Athame of Lady Justice and Lady Karma instead. We real Pagans should not feel obligated to explain or excuse or expunge such behaviors and crimes. We should stand up and loudly and proudly be intolerant in such cases!

The Pagan community’s bad apples range from just the misguided and stupid bruised-apple types to those who are evil mutations of nature and are rotten-to-the-core types… and none of them should be protected or covered up for by the legitimate Pagan community, just because they call themselves one of “us.” That does not make them one of us; it does not make them representative of our religion or our community. However if we stand behind these bad apple bad examples, and “accept” them and embrace them and forgive them, then we should not be surprised when our whole community gets judged by their bad example. What is the greater community to think if we ourselves allow and foster such fools and monsters amongst us? Naturally they will think us all as ignorant and immoral as our fosterlings.

The phrase goes, “One bad apple spoils the barrel;” that is why a good farmer doesn’t let any bad apples stay in any barrel. We as Pagan clergy and leaders need to listen to the wisdom of that farmer. We need to kick such bad apples out of our barrels as soon as we know they are bad. That doesn’t make us “intolerant” or not “accepting;” that makes us a religious group with a code of honor and morals that we hold ourselves to. It is shocking that many of our Pagan clergy and Pagan group leaders hesitate to show this bit of wise leadership. In their defense, often they are trying to be all-accepting and all-inclusive, for they fear being seen as un-PC. Or perhaps they have just become so open-minded their brains are falling out.

Pagans need to encourage their leaders to set limits on what is acceptable and tolerable and what is not. We need to start drawing that line between right and wrong somewhere, instead of just arguing that everyone else has it drawn too conservatively so we are going to erase it altogether. The line is there for a good reason, so when people go over it, we know to stop associating with them and to punish them or see that the greater community punishes them before they cause any more harm to others around them.

We preach, “And ye harm none.” But perhaps we should add, “And ye let no one else do harm either.”

I Am A Witch

I Am A Witch
by Sandi Thomas

When I stand up for myself and my beliefs, they call me a “Witch”.
When I stand up for those I love, they call me a Witch.
When I speak my mind, think my own thoughts, or do things my own way, they call me a Witch.

Being a witch entails raising my children to be strong people

Who have a solid sense of personal and social responsibility

Who are not afraid to stand up for what they believe in
Who love and respect themselves for the beautiful beings they are.

Being a witch means that I am free to be the wonderful creature I am,
With all my own intricacies, contradictions, quirks and beauty.
Being a witch means I won’t compromise what’s in my heart.
It means I live my life MY way. It means I won’t allow anyone to step on me.

When I refuse to tolerate injustice and speak up against it, I am defined as a witch.
The same thing happens when I take time for myself instead of being everyone else’s maid or when I act a little selfish.

I am proud to be a witch! It means I have the courage and strength to allow myself to be who I truly am and won’t become anyone else’s idea of what they think I “should” be.

I am outspoken, opinionated and determined.
By Goddess, I want what I want and there is nothing wrong with that!

So, try to stomp on me, try to douse my inner flame, try to squash every ounce of beauty I hold within me. You won’t succeed.

And if that makes me a witch, so be it. I embrace the title and am proud to bear it. I love this, I can call myself a witch now and not feel bad about it!

SO MOTE IT BE!

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I AM A WITCH

Rune of the Day for June 10th is Ehwaz

 

Ehwaz/Movement

 

This rune stands for transit and transition and movement. It can even mean new life. Things are getting better. The development is a gradual but steady progress through several shifts and changes. Growth is just possible by the means of those changes.
Moral integrity and per
Have faith in the future and be willing to share, whatever awaits you.

 

Getting My Husband to Accept My Religion

Author: Scáithshúilóir

I have believed in the Wiccan Way since I was perhaps seven or ten years old. It wasn’t until I was thirteen that I began to more wholeheartedly follow the Old Way. I hadn’t done much research, regrettably, and yet looking back on old writings of rituals and dances, songs, poems, that had, at the time, seemed to have nothing to do with the Craft, really did. It was as though the Goddess and the God had been in my blood from day one (for Christianity had always felt “icky” to me, as though I were living a horrid lie that simply wouldn’t go away no matter how much I told the truth) .

I knew what I was, who I was, and what I wanted to do to show the world my beliefs.

However, in my eighth grade year, I was pulled into a weird cult group at my school and while the path we followed as akin to Wicca it was not all the same time. The gods and goddesses we followed were more or less made up, and when I met my current husband at the end of ninth grade after Hurricane Katrina and his friend whom wanted to practice Wicca and turned to me for information, I gave my husband’s friend the information of my cult from middle school versus the true information of the Craft.

My husband went online to verify the information and when it didn’t match up, he went rather nuts. So to this day, I’m still living up to that “lie.” I’m tainted and as are my beliefs.

Now, though he lets me keep my altar up (rather ignorant I’m guessing of what it stands for) and lets me wear my Goddess pendant and pentacle medallion, I know he fights me on practicing my beliefs openly. He seems unable to understand that when one says Wiccans believe in magick, it isn’t necessarily that we believe we can make the wind blow, or flowers grow, or move things with our minds, but rather that we take negative energy morph it into positive energy and through Circles and rituals and spells and the like we channel that positive energy to influence our world and through our positive thoughts and the like change how we do things and how our world is around us.

Yet… I don’t know. It’s hard because every time I bring up Wicca, he tells me “you’re not Wiccan” but I think it’s more because he’s in denial. Like, I saved something from a website that had a good Mabon ritual that I wanted to use come next month and he said, “So you’re looking up Wiccan things to buy online.”

I said, “No, I saved the site because it had a good ritual.”

He didn’t seem mad and didn’t argue with me. So, I guess it’s more of a gradual transition. My friend from years ago, Cael, did a tarot reading for me and said that there are two paths before me and only one reaches home. I’m torn between which path is the right one to take but I’m too stubborn to give up the fight.

I’m not sure exactly what to do.

I’ve prayed consistently to the Goddess and the God to guide me, to allow my husband, whom I would give my life for, who I believe the Goddess and the God gave to me personally, to accept my beliefs. I don’t want him to practice with me. I understand and accept fully that he doesn’t believe what I do, yet… I wish he’d extend the same kindness to me.

I guess I’d be more truthful if I said that there are some aspects of Wicca that I follow. I believe that faeries are lesser, almost demi-gods that are more or less spirits of the Earth manifested in plants, flowers, etc. I’ve already stated my thoughts/beliefs on magick.

I’m an eclectic Witch, but more or less I guess I’d be traditional in the sense that I worship the Goddess and the God, I only call upon Them in my rituals. Though I acknowledge all the other gods and goddesses of the various pantheons, I feel as though it more respectful to speak directly to the “head honchos” of the Way. That may just be me. I don’t believe in love potions, healing spells on myself, or things like that.

I think it is horribly against the Rede to do anything that might be considered “personal gain.” I believe in working for the things in my life, not use the magick given to me in ways to make it a faster process, just to give me a hop in my step.

I’m beautiful the way I am, the Goddess wouldn’t have made me such if I wasn’t truly beautiful. I love women and men equally; I don’t think one sex is better than the other. The Goddess and the God manifest in each of us, so no one is more perfect than the other.

I accept others beliefs, for the Rede bids us “Abide the Wiccan Law ye must/ in perfect love and perfect trust.” I follow the Rede as best I can, but like all humans I mess up.

But I’ve digressed from my general point. I only want to be accepted. I wish I could reach a mutual understanding with my husband. I love my faith and I love the Goddess and the God, and to not worship them every night by opening a circle and simply meditating with Their presence beside me, it’s almost painful.

Goddess and God willing my husband will accept my religion as I have undoubtedly accepted his. But as I’ve mentioned before in above paragraphs, it’s still a debated issue. I hope the gradual transition works out in the end. And I hope it comes to a close soon. I can’t take much more of this. It’s killing me.

The Magick is in the Witch…Not the Bitch

Author: Phoenix Forestsong

I recently placed myself in a position where I had to “explain myself” to a non-magickal person. Surprisingly, this situation planted a very interesting seed into the fertile soil of my mind. Ultimately that seed has culminated in this essay, minus the offensive title. Without getting into irrelevant details, the conversation essentially boiled down to “I don’t care what you say, Magick doesn’t work because I refuse to believe in it.”

Yup. That statement is one hundred percent factually true. Magick only works if you open yourself to it first, even if you don’t believe but still accept the possibility, then Magick can move in your life. A non-magickal person or, to upset those witches that take themselves way too seriously, a Muggle who “does not believe”, but “refuses to believe” will not be knowingly influenced by Magick. The key here is in the word knowingly. Magick is life and Magick is energy, thus all that lives is filled with the energy of Life; whether it knows, believes, or denies the possibility of Magick, the human spirit is still affected by Magick.

The problem that most non-magickal people have with Magick, aside from centuries of brainwashing by Christianity, is the concept of a binary world. The concept of a binary world is anathema to traditional stratified religions where there is Earth, Heaven, Hell, and only The Creator and The Destroyer can manipulate “Magick” to make things happen. Even then, it is only good and “Holy” when that power comes from God or Jesus, and “evil”, “unnatural”, or “Satanic” when it comes from any other source, for as we all know, that which is not exclusively from the domain of God, comes from the Devil’s own hand.

To Wiccans and pagans there are two worlds that make up our lives. There is the physical and material world that simultaneously and conterminously coexists with the spiritual world, which is the world of energy, the world of magick. When we see the forest, we see the physical world with trees, rocks, leaves, streams, and forest creatures; however, we also see the energies that these seemingly simple physical things are made of. It is natural to see this world and to live in this world; in fact, from the moment of birth we are completely opened up to the True World. As we gradually learn more about the “Real World”, the exclusive world of the physical, we do so ignorant of the natural abilities that we were born with. Thus, the situation creates a disconnect within us where “something” is missing, but we’re not quite sure what.

The Witch

The Witch, The Wise, A Wise One, or whatever name we are known by, changes neither the responsibilities nor dedication that it takes to become a Witch. When you first began to follow your path, there was a tremendous amount of information that had to be learned, a lot of books to read, and a ton of thinking, meditating, and writing that needed to be completed before you really had even the slightest clue of just what you were doing. However, setting aside your confusion you pressed on, slowly coming to master the basic talents required by the Craft. You can now raise power, know your correspondences for candles, herbs, and gemstones. More than likely you have delved into divination with the Tarot, a pendulum, or Runes.

In any event, you are a Witch and it took a lot of thought and effort to, not only learn and master your skills, but to acquire the right philosophy and spirit to actually put them to use. It is the same as a computer technician who spends long hours in class working for a Bachelor’s degree. Though some of what will be learned may seem pointless at the time, overall it has taken at least four years to learn enough of the basics of Computer Science to be proficient at your chosen field. While you may not be an expert in every area of computer technology, you are pretty damn good when it comes to identifying, troubleshooting, and repairing a computer whenever it fails…it’s all fundamentals to you now.

For the IT Professional, the medium that is best used to faithfully execute their duties is the Internet. Obviously I use this profession for the example because, well, write what you know. I have the B.S. Degree, I’ve had several technical positions, including a management position and a consulting business, and so I have witnessed and experienced the IT field from several different angles. I would regularly run into computer programs that I’ve never even heard about prior to accepting the client. So I would research.

I would hit the Internet, learn more about this new technology, and I would test it out prior to taking any drastic action. I taught myself how to operate that computer program, usually better than the employees who had to use it on a daily basis. The point is that I didn’t know it before, I recognized the fact, did the research, got the hands on experience, and incorporated new, albeit somewhat situational, knowledge into my life. I had to make an effort to grow, to learn, to develop something within myself in order to learn this new skill.

How does this have any relationship to Wicca? Imagine that your sister is in a relationship with one real bad dude. When you do see her, which rarely ever happens, she always wears clothing and makeup that conceal the abuse. When you say something about it she gets worried, not angry, and begs you to stay out of her life. Just this past Thanksgiving she missed the traditional family meal, so you decided to stop by her house and check everything out. She answers the door in tears, blood streaming from her broken nose. She tells you, panic blazing from her eyes that she broke her nose falling down the stairs and that everything is all right. Don’t worry; just go home she’ll be fine.

Sure. What do you do? Right off the top of your head the best solution is to call the police. If they can’t (or won’t) do anything, then call the YWCA, even a local church with a women’s outreach group, someone who is trained to handle domestic violence. So, once you’ve called the cops, and no one presses charges, and the beatings continue, and you see your sister less and less often, in greater agony at each and every meeting. What do you do?

You are a Witch, you know the basics inside and out, you have the Rede, and you have a very desperate need. Using the Rede as your guide, you begin to peruse the Internet and your own Magickal library to research how to safely and permanently get rid of this guy. You find the best way is through a spell of binding placed on him (‘An it harm none…’An he IS harming someone) so that he will be unable to harm your sister in any way followed by a spell of protection placed on your sister. The research completed, you hit up your local craft shop or Wally World and get what you need for the ritual. You create the necessary components required for your ritual, prepare the ritual, work the ritual, raise power, empower the spell with your most desperate need, and fire it off into the Aether, knowing with all certainty that it has already worked.

When a computer guy fixes a computer, he or she knows that it is fixed because there is a very noticeable and measurable change in the machine. Mainly, that change is that the computer now works, however, in more complicated computers, such as Internet Servers, the change may not be drastically noticeable as the computer is not running just one or two applications like your PC, it is executing thousands at a time. An adjustment here and a tweak there will create noticeable results; however, it takes patience and experience to notice those changes.

When a Witch fixes a situation, he or she knows that it is fixed because there is a very noticeable, yet subtle change in the situation. As our “Fundamentals” are not well-documented scientific skills but rather are naturally-born abilities that, once trained, unlock greater levels of perception in the Witch, we notice the change in energy before the event actually moves in that direction. Two very important rules to remember are: “Magick always follows the path of least resistance” and “Energy always occurs before motion.”

Energy occurs before motion is an accepted scientific law. Simply look to the famous Sir Isaac Newton and his three marvelous and Magickal laws of motion. The First Law of Motion, which is the only one we’re interested in, states that an object in motion will stay in constant uniform motion and an object at rest will remain at rest unless acted upon by some external force, with force being kinetic energy.

To simplify even further, things tend to do what they were already doing unless some outside force influences it. Thus, the ball just sits there and does nothing until you kick it, which is the application of kinetic energy. Thus the bastard will remain abusive (an A-hole in motion) until some outside force (emotion, Magick, POLICE) pushes him (and his energy) onto another constant, uniform course, which hopefully leads straight to a jail cell and a karmic reward.

Now, I know all you eggheads out there are just drooling about the big flaw in my argument. I can hear it right now, it goes something like this…Dude, that only applies to an object with constant mass, not to something that can grow or shrink, thus changing its mass and, potentially, its momentum and direction! That is what is so cool about the flaw; the first law only ALWAYS works on things, static things, things that don’t change and people their situations are dynamic.

In the world of spirit, we’re not simply bundles of energy floating around without thought, without direction. Hell no! People are driven, motivated, self-directed, and above all else, highly intelligent and sentient individuals. We steer ourselves through life; our Spirit hops into the driver’s seat, takes the wheel, puts the pedal to the metal, slams on the break, grinds the transmission, and tries to go where it wants to go. Magick, like a sudden gust of wind upon the interstate or two tons of rolling steel smacking fatally into you, still affects your motion. The difference between a gust of wind pushing your car and the horror of a traffic fatality is force, which is energy.

In Magick, it is a disciplined and focused Will that sets the direction of the spell, and it emotion and desire that give our spells force, “kinetic energy”, the kick. Correspondences naturally add additional power to the magick, thus increasing the force of the spell. The energy is raised, the desire for change churns at the heart of the spell, waiting to be let loose, the spell is directed, it’s energy changing to comply with the Will of the Witch, transforming into what it needs to become to do its job. The spell is let loose, it’s aim is true and the force behind the spell is mind-shatteringly intense. You ground, center, thank your Deities, and close out your circle, cleaning up along the way. You listen for the phone.

An hour passes, you near nothing. Two hours pass, still nothing. After four hours you have to sleep, the ritual was too much of a draining process to keep sleep over the horizon for much longer. One day goes by, nothing, two, three, five, still nothing. You stop by her house but she won’t open the door, she keeps the chain latched and hides her face in the safety of shadows. You know. You’re not upset; you’re pissed. “’An it harm none…” as your first thought is to personally explain Newton’s Laws of Motion using the example of his face as the object with your fist as the application of kinetic energy, which would technically violate that whole “harm none” thing. As Plan A won’t really work out, you fall back to Plan B and call the Police who rush out to arrest the guy who, surprisingly, actually gets charged, convicted, and sees the inside of the Pokey for a while.

The Bitch

Oh! I see. You spent all that time worrying and worshiping the Devil, and all you had to do was call the Cops. See! Magick doesn’t work! Tee-hee! Tee-hee! Sure, the Police were called and it was the Police who dragged the human filth out of the house and into a cruiser, but they had already been called before without any result. Now, there is a noticeable result. Notice that the spell took time to work; it could have taken months even! Why?

The Jerk is self-motivated, self-directed, and self-centered, thus instead of a ball of rock floating idly in space, he is a jerk behind the wheel of car and he’s going wherever he wants to God Dammed go! Your Sister, for her own reasons, was attracted to him which drew her closer to him, the distance between them lessened and he began to influence her. The proximity of their paths and the momentum of his desire and his will to be abusive does not simply stop and cease to be because one wishes for it too. It stops because some outside force, some outside energy, slammed full-force into him and pushed him in another direction. The spell of protection cast upon your sister, it too slammed into her life, pushing her away from his abuse.

Now, neither the Jerk nor your Sister were ever aware of your spell, so to their knowledge nothing abnormal ever occurred. However, Magick always follows the path of least resistance. The Jerk, being a physical guy, liked his drink and he liked women, but when he got drunk he would get violent. It was his nature and he followed his nature. Your sister, after having a half-remembered dream about watching some show on TV last week about fidelity and abuse, was growing more resentful and angry the more she thought about things. It took a few days but when you stopped by the house the tension that had been mounting over the past few days, the stress fractures of two lives being pushed away from each other, were the trigger.

Directly, did you Physically do anything to anyone in that scenario? No. What did you do? You gave a situation, two lives, a necessary push and nature took care of the rest, because Magick follows the path of least resistance. This is a completely fictional story, but one designed to show the mechanics of Magick. While situations for your spells will be different, never doubt its power. Even science has proven that Energy comes before Motion, therefore the mechanics of Magick, the First Law of Magical Motion, is a logical and “provable” concept.

In Land of the Blind…

I walk down the street at noon, a gentle breeze ruffles my hair, trees shimmy and shake their leaves, making a cacophony of sound like hundreds of sheets of paper being torn to shreds. The bright golden sun assaults my eyes as it glares angrily from dingy storefront windows and the hot windshields of boiling parked cars. A sea of people flows around me, or I flow amongst them, I don’t really know and It doesn’t really matter, I’m a part of something.

I come abruptly upon the strangest sight, a plaza full of men, women, and children with blindfolds painfully tight upon their heads, dirty thick padding covers their ears, a cloth gag obstructs their mouths, while filthy rags consist of their clothing. Each and every soul in the plaza sits in silence, suffering etched deep into their faces while one lone man cries loudly above the noise of the city. You strain to hear him over the sounds of construction, but eventually his message is heard.

“Fear! Fear my God! For he has declared this world to be an illusion and all upon to be evil and ill. Repent of your sins, surrender your body, mind, and soul unto me, blind yourself unto the evil illusion of this world and you will be rewarded in your next life.”

Out of a morbid sense of curiosity I wandered into the plaza; I had to know what was going on. Ignoring the absolute stench of the place, I located the preaching man and moved swiftly to him. His blind eyes passed me over, seeing nothing. Questions flooded my mind, yet I remained in control and simply spoke to the man. “What are you doing Sir?” I ask him, “What are all of you doing here?” His answer surprised me, shocking me into an absolute funk.

“My God, My God, My most powerful and omnipotent Lord. He has told me that this world is nothing more than a great illusion, a false reality, and the evil of this place is too great and My God demands judgment. Fire and Death shall rein down from the heavens, the earth will crack and the seas shall heave. The blood of the unsaved shall run like a river of crimson Justice! Join me and blind your eyes, deafen your ears, silence your tongue, and feel the full suffering of the flesh. For only through suffering can we purify our souls in order to gain Paradise! Give your Illusionary life to me and My God, and you will receive wealth and wisdom beyond measure after death.”

It just sounded too good to be true! Blind my eyes, block my ears, silence my tongue, suffer in the flesh, but at least I wouldn’t be dead from fire, death, cracking, or heaving. I was confused.

“Sir, how do you know this to be true? Have you any proof?” His grimy hands rummaged through a tattered burlap sack, quickly withdrawing a badly damaged cassette tape player. “God himself recorded his message for me on this holy artifact. Unfortunately even the most enlightened individuals cannot bear to hear the true voice of God without its perfection causing immediate and violent death. For the mysteries of God are Deadly to the wicked and can only be revealed through suffering in darkness and silence. Join Me! Else you will be punished for your lack of faith for all eternity, for my God is a wrathful God!”

…The One-Eyed Man Will Be King

After that exciting excursion into the world of Sir Isaac Newton and his wonderful First Law of Motion, and a quick escapade to an obviously allegorical plaza filled with walk-ons left over from the filming of Tommy, what was the whole point? There is a morbidly humorous saying: In the land of the blind, the one-eyed man will be king. When we are born, all of us, are born with two eyes, we see both worlds, the world of the physical and the world of energy.

As our world really is a binary world, we are literally being asked to blind one eye in order to become a part of society. Our society is one that is based upon science and Judeo-Christian values. Magick, and any other current scientifically improvable concept, is not “real” because it cannot be measured and it goes against those long-standing values that are so important to our national identity. Although, just because something is not scientifically proven beyond a shadow of a doubt does not mean that it is wrong.

I work magick, you work magick, and millions of people the world over work some kind of Magick. We believe in it because we can feel it, it may not be quantifiable, yet it exists. We believe in Magick because it works, and it works every time we try it. The situation may not be completely resolved, but it will begin to move, slowly at first, but soon it will be defused in no time at all because you gave it a little nudge to knock it out of the way.

The sun still shines its light of love and heat of hope upon the Earth oblivious to the fact that Jim in Accounting absolutely refuses to believe in the Sun’s existence. It still doesn’t change the fact that the Sun is a star and that Jim in Accounting probably could use a long vacation somewhere with sun, sand, and surf. Of course Jim won’t burn on his vacation because he doesn’t believe in the Sun.

When Jim finally returns from his long vacation, he is as red as a steamed lobster. He begins to explain to you how he contracted this strange skin disease at the beach and how it was strange to be at the beach without the Sun. As a Witch, and since Jim is nuttier than a fruitcake by now, you promise to work some magick on his…rare condition. Jim doesn’t believe in Magick and is violently opposed to it. You decide to work a spell on him to alleviate the pain from his sunburn without telling him. He feels better the next day after discovering an exotic cure for his illness…aloe.

Show Me Da Magick!

This essay has been a bit juvenile in its examples, yet the point was not to provide the very best example of a situation, it was to provide the best example of the mechanics of Magick. If you begin to study your own spellcraft, watch where the energy that you send out ends up by feeling for it. You will begin to learn and eventually understand just how Magick, and Life, flows and brings change where it’s needed most. The one fatal mistake that any Witch can make is to give away their power in the face of a challenge. The idea that “I can’t help with that! It’s too tough!” Well, you’re right; you can’t do anything because you have decided that you do not have the power to…so now you don’t.

But, just like the blind man who ignored the visible world, and the overzealous Christian who demands suffering and pain as a sign of submission, their refusal to accept the real world around them doesn’t change the nature of the world around them. It only changes their reactions to that outside stimulus that they detest. A closed-minded individual who refuses to believe in magick can still be swayed by magick, just as the boy who believes himself to invincible can be knocked over by powerful wave. Their refusal to accept does not change the fact that Magick exists, has always existed, and will always exist. The blindness in their eyes does not change the fact that there are Two Worlds, not one, two. Just because a person refuses to see a painting does not mean that it was never painted, it exists in all its intricate beauty, that person simply refuses to appreciate it.

As Witches we walk the world with all our senses developed and alert, this allows us a greater depth of understanding and perception concerning people and situations. We do not walk our Path with our eyes blinded, nor do we walk our Path with one eye closed. We walk our paths with both eyes open; both worlds, the physical and the spiritual are real and readily available to us, each just as real as the other. We have to remember that WE hold the power to create change in the world, it is not something that can ever be delegated to another, it is our power, our will, and our destiny to develop into the individual who we want to be.

Magick, a natural part of life, will always be an influence even on skeptics, for just as matter moves, so does energy. Regardless of denials, misunderstandings, and flat-out lies, one can no more banish Magick than one could Banish the oceans, it is a natural part Life, just like the rising and setting of the sun and the migration of birds in the Winter. It’s natural, it exists, and nothing and no one can ever change that.

Blessed Be,
-Phoenix Forestsong

You, Your God, and Your Future

Author: Frost
I have been with the Pagan community for nearly a decade, notably unguided. I have been fortunate to find friends who are Pagan or open to pagan thought. In that time, I have become a mentor to many of them.

Our Coven recently went through an ideological split during a time when we were trying to restructure. This split made some things better and some things worse.

Throughout the split and in the time since, many of the members have been struggling with their faith. I had been doing the best I could to regain some manner of order, to prevent the crisis of faith that would allow such a split to happen; but I ultimately failed. As such, I was stuck with many practitioners looking for something to do and a declining faith to do it with.

As a result, I sent out the following, and after realizing that others in the community may need to hear these words, I have chosen to also post it here:

I feel compelled to say something as many have made it known they are feeling low. There is but one thing that has remained true for me these past nine years, the nine years which I have followed my path. That one thing is this: my life, however meaningless, mundane, boring, and painful it is now, will come to mean something in the end.

What I mean to say is this: You have been placed upon this earth for a reason. That reason is known to someone but will be kept from you until the time of your death. I believe that at this point, you will reflect upon that life and come to the same understanding that so many before have. That understanding will be unique to you and your own experience, but will go something like this:

I made a difference. I changed a life, and so, I changed the world.

How have you changed someone today? Have you yet or will it be later in the day? Did you teach them a skill, or help them with a task? Did you learn something that will later save lives?

When it all seems so pointless to you, think about the bigger picture.

I once found myself asking my God for just one thing: There are very few things that we do in life that we set out to do. In the end, it’s the little things that gain us the profound legacy that we all yearn for. The one thing that we all manage is the one that we may never see. That achievement is the difference that we make in another human being.

If in your life, you make a difference in one person’s life, then you may die with a legacy. If we teach a skill we leave a larger legacy. If we listen to a problem, we have created a solution. It’s the little difference that we make that lend a hand to large means.

If there were one thing that I could ask my lord for, one thing above all else, it would be to make a difference, if only one person at a time. I would die having been fulfilled in life. The difference is my wish, my dream, and my will.

In a bit more specific request, I will leave you with this: I was born and baptized Lutheran, and still hold some beliefs of that faith. Jehovah and I still chat about my problems, but Odin has taken me in and taught me.

The relationship you have with your god is personal, on which is never to be questioned by another. But we are complex individuals, and just as we have a handful of doctors for each special problem, we too have a hand full of gods waiting to grant us powers. So long as we believe in them then the depth of the relationship is irrelevant. The links exist.

Faith, and in turn religion, exist in a part of us that is neither logical nor understandable. Our Gods make it logical and understandable. They help to fill the void we feel, the feeling of security, feelings of safety. Next time you are alone and afraid, feel the presence of your God all around you and experience a new feeling of safety.

It is safety and security that we all yearn for. The millionaire behind the multi million dollar security system has the same security that I have with my God. Odin has my back, so to speak. That’s not to say that he will never let me get hurt, never let me feel sorrow. He will not save me from the grasp of all things evil. He will keep me safe though, when it counts.

That narrow miss by the car on the road, running five minutes late and avoiding a wreck. He will keep me safe when it counts.

One thing we must all remember is that the love that our hearts have for our Gods must not be perfect, but it must be forgiving. Our Gods have Their purpose for us and They will get us there however best They can. We just need to have faith in the end and the means will fall in to place.

For those of you clutching at straws, examine what you have done, and what you can be doing.

For those of you clutching at faith, keep with it and it will keep with you.

From one troubled person to another, blessed be on this night.

This message was just what my practitioners need to pick up the pieces and get back together. I felt it was important to share this with the rest of you and maybe I can help some one else.

Our future lies with in our Gods and us.

My legacy is still to be writ as is all of ours. Let us then be together in our community of faith. I hope this allows someone to make the decision they had been putting off.

‘Till I find deem it necessary to write again,

Blessed Be

Frost
The Covenant
Order of the Gual
Temple of Odin

It’s me again…….

I have a ton of comments in the back and I have been trying to answer some of them. That is why I am running so late on my daily postings. One post so of struck me that the rest of you might be thinking the same thing. It involved me not being open. That it would be nice that I opened up more with my readers and let you know what I think and how I feel. Witches are very private people. We aren’t suppose to reveal any of our practices, rituals or beliefs to the mundane world. In fact there is a law that states this very fact. I have been open for several years about being a witch. Especially since I got on the internet in 1999. I have been criticized and took a lot of heat about what I do. I have lost good friends. At the time I thought they were good friends come to find out all they wanted to do is stab me in the back and cut my throat at the same time. What there motivates were I don’t know? Also you couldn’t reveal your real name or your dead parent’s name either. I had a dedication page to my mother and my sister. They threw a fit because other witches might use this against me, do something to my relatives even after their dead. I had to keep my shield up 24 hours a day. I had to triple protect my house. And I had to do this because of my so-called friends. To my face they supported everything I was doing, but secretly that was another story.

I am just starting to feel comfortable here. Please have patience you will get to know me I promise. I made a clean break with those so-called friends. I even disappeared for about three months. I had to get my head on straight again and focus on what I had to do for the Goddess.  After the three months was up, I had a little voice tell me that I ought to check out the blogs. So I did and I was lost as a black cat, lol! I got to reading and figuring this out and that out (I believe I had a little help, lol). It started to make sense. I got my confidence up and decided many I can do this or at least give it a shot. I did and here we are today.

As far as me breaking the Law about not discussing our beliefs, rituals, spells and so on. I don’t believe I am doing anything wrong. I am doing the Goddess’ work. She watches over me every day and She knows what I put on this blog. So if it wasn’t suppose to be here I figure it wouldn’t.

Most forget in the Old Days that was the only way people had to communicate was by word of mouth. During the Burning Times, if our Religion had when underground then it would have been lost. Witchcraft has always been a word of mouth Religion. Just thought of it, I am going to post the Ordains again.

Well I guess I better hush for now……….but before I go you want to try something a little new, how about “Spell Saturday?” What do you think? I like the idea. Spells are my second nature, hee, hee,hee!)

She grabs her broom and her trust familiar and their off

Coven Life: What I Have Learned

Author: Sleeping Moon
I started practicing witchcraft or the ancient path as I prefer to call it, back in 1996 or so. At first I was solitary, read my homework, started working with spells and rituals. Thought it interesting when my cats would act a bit crazy during that time. But, felt something was lacking. I wanted other people to talk to, to practice with. And to make sure I was doing every thing correctly. Because I couldn’t “see” energy with my real eyes, I had doubts.

Let’s face it, when we start off (especially when we are young) and the way Hollywood portrays magicks, we, or at least I thought that’s how it was supposed to be. And I was hoping that’s the way it was supposed to be. When that didn’t happen, I didn’t get discouraged. In fact, quite the opposite. I practiced more. To the point where I was calling the quarters just about every night of the week. I also wanted to understand the difference in feeling the energy as well, both while in circle and out of it.

After a year and a half or so, I had found a store in town that solely based their market on the Craft. Of course I was thrilled! (I think I heard about it through hear say.) I of course spread the word to just about any one that would listen what I did and what I was looking for. Both in personal life and in my professional life. I felt like I wasn’t the only witch in town and the only way to find people of like minds was to open my mouth.

When I first walked into the store, I was mystified and in awe. But was a wee bit disappointed in how small it was. I browsed around for a time, and then got the courage to ask the woman behind the counter if she knew of any covens or groups in the area. She was very sweet and took my number. She didn’t give me any definite information. Of course, I left the store a little disheartened that I didn’t have a group to contact me right away.

I’m not sure how much time passed after that, but that nice woman behind the counter did in fact call me. It just so happened to be around Samhain time and that she had her cousin who is a priest, come up from the city to hold a Samhain celebration. She asked me if I would like to attend.

Needless to say, I was on cloud nine and of course accepted.

That first Samhain celebration was a magickal one for me. We held ritual, the priest did his thing, and we blessed and consecrated some items and did a bit of fire scrying. But, during this session instead of being drawn to the fire (like I normally am) I was drawn to the sky. I did end up seeing something that concerned me and asked the priest about it later. The moon was full and round in her splendor that night, but not only seeing that moon, I saw three others as well. Of course I knew what the three moons meant; maiden, mother, crone, but was flabbergasted about the fourth. When he heard this I recall his eyes growing wide and he said most don’t see the fourth moon and it meant that it was the dark moon or hence the dark goddess. Then, in the next breath, he told me witchcraft wasn’t for me.

Boy, was I literally floored. Why would some one tell me that most witches don’t see the fourth moon and then tell me that it’s not my rightful path? Didn’t make much sense. But some how, since he was the only clergy I knew, I persuaded him to teach me. I worked with him for a bit over a year, he would come up from the city quite often and a friend and I would go down there as well. Life was good.

Until he started discouraging me. He was telling me things that didn’t sit well with me and said that he wasn’t comfortable teaching me any more. Plus a big thing that I didn’t care for was it was his way or the high way. (I find that quite often in more distinguished groups.) So after some time, I told him that I was leaving, as I was uncomfortable with his teachings. (He also told me once that he would not initiate me through the great right! Which of course turned me completely off!) So hence I left. My friend did continue working with him, which I didn’t discourage.

After that, I did work solitary for a time until I found Witchvox. I also found my next coven. Or I hoped it would be. It was several hours away, but I didn’t mind the drive because it wasn’t often. This group did a bit of Pow-Wow magick, which I did like. Then I started speaking up a bit more and telling a few individuals what kind of entities I am drawn to (the fae) and what I was currently working with at the time. (It was more of a neutral energy than a positive one…but NOT negative.) When they found out, I was kicked out. Only light energies where allowed there and they wouldn’t tolerate any thing else. (And this person wrote about negative entities–go figure!) I never once brought this neutral energy into our circles and was stunned speechless that this would have happened.

I never thought that fellow pagans would be so prejudiced against certain energies…negative ones, understandable but not the one I was dealing with. This entity I do give a lot of credit too because it pulled me out of several dark moments in my life. This being one of them.
Like I said, I enjoyed the groups company, felt connected and thought I felt at home. Wow, did I get a slap in the face! They also didn’t care for the fact that my Matron was Hecate and the god I was working with at the time happened to be Hades. Too much dark, they said. You need to balance their energies in order to have effective magick. Ptah! Maybe for them, but not for me.
So, I was back to solitary once again.

I started to petition to the gods then to find me some good folks to practice with and that I can feel comfortable enough to be myself and not have to worry about stepping on any ones toes. And let’s face it, being kicked out of a coven or group.

I then went to a few open groups, several which were more than 50 miles away and each one didn’t sit right. Most where the ones where I just stood in circle with my hands in the goddess position and let the Priest/Priestess do all the work. I felt like a minion. Even lower than that. Many times, I didn’t even lend my energy because I felt like a ghost. I also didn’t like the fact that they made you where this, or you couldn’t where that. How discouraging!

Then, back in 2004 I got the courage to look for individuals this time and in my immediate area to hopefully start up a group of our own. I had no goal at the time, no set of rules and no doctrine. I just didn’t want to be alone in my quest. Not too long after that, some one did contact me! This person happened to live in a town not to far away and I was thrilled. We met at a local coffee shop and hit it off.

We practiced between the two of us for a time, went to open group functions together and I came to this conclusion: We needed to start a group of our own where people can feel free to practice how they see fit, with minimal rules and regulations. So then, I placed a group add on Witchvox again. About several weeks later, a woman from a neighboring town contacted me and we met up. Then a few more. For several years it was only five of us, but we where comfortable with that.

We started to bond, open up more, did activities out side of the craft and simply enjoyed each other’s company. After a while, we decided we would like to look for more individuals to join our tight nit family. Several came and went, some didn’t work out for us, and we didn’t work out for them. Which of course happens, whether it’s through conflicting personality traits or the group wasn’t right for them. Period. We even tried to get men involved and that turned out to be hairy. (Not saying that men weren’t welcome, it’s just the certain men that wanted to join with us.)
A few months ago we did open our group to two new women and are lovely additions! About a month ago two more joined and fit in quite nicely.

My main rule of thumb here is that this group of mine is open to all paths that follow the ancient ways. So long as we come together on a common ground, can enjoy each other’s company and feel comfortable enough to speak our minds. There is no right way or wrong way in this group and there is no such thing as a designated high priestess. For we all are! We don’t go through degree’s or initiations for that is up to you and your guides/gods to decide and for the simple fact that we learn from each other.

It also stems back to the age-old question: Who initiated the first witch? And if that spirit initiated that witch, why can’t it initiate more of us?

The broader we are in our magicks/paths, the more we can learn from each other. I purposely let each lady take the chance to host a circle/sabbat so we can see how that witch likes to practice her path. And if that lady is interested in a different magickal aspect of the craft, she has a chance to express that interest to the group.

I don’t base acceptance on race, creed or age. But it is a women’s group at this time. Because I feel the wider we are in acceptance of others, the more fun and enlightening the group will be. And the more we can learn from each other.

I feel humbled that I finally found or I should say that the Gods led me in the right direction to this wonderful group of special women. Each one of these ladies holds a place in my heart and I am thankful that each one has come into my life. I have learned much from this experience, continue to learn daily and enjoy every minute that I spend with them.

Coven life can be hard and challenging at times. If we don’t find a common ground, a member has to go or if a problem arises and is not fixable again, member has to go. It’s tough but the positives out weigh the negatives in this case. There is something awesome about connecting with a group of women that you wouldn’t get anywhere else.

I feel that each woman is unique unto herself and that her view of the craft is the same and should be shared with the world. Or in this case, this group.

I am not saying that other groups have it wrong. Absolutely not. I just feel that more structured groups aren’t right for me as I like each individual to feel like she has a voice and that freedom can speak it’s tongue. In this, I have found my path and hope each one of you does as well.

There is something awesome about finding people of like minds that you can feel free enough to be you.

On Becoming a Crone

Author: Belladonna SilverRayne

Why is it so hard to admit we’re growing older? Why do we fight it tooth and nail? Society and the media as a whole, wants to show aging as something to be fought against, to be put off as long as possible. Why? Look at any sit-com, news broadcast, music video…. it’s all about being young and “beautiful”. Youth is made out to be the epitome of what we all want to be. Who wants to get old, right? Wrong!

I will be 45 on my next birthday. A fact that, when said out loud at first, made me mentally cringe. “Me? 45?? That means only 5 more years till I’m 50!!” After I said it aloud several times, and really thought about it, I could say it with confidence. Yes. Me. 45 going onto 50.

And I love it! I am moving into the Crone stage of my life, and enjoying every minute of it!

I loved the Maiden stage, when I was young, supple, carefree, and self-indulgent. Who among us didn’t? Life seemed so simple, so easy to handle. And it was. My biggest worry was what outfit I’d wear out to the club to dance and make merry with friends.

I sowed my oats, looked out for number one (me, of course) and just basically did my own thing. I moved at the speed of light, never really stopping to appreciate the things around me, never really taking anything in. Just “doing”. As I got a little older, I met the person that would become my husband and the father of my kids and we began our life together.

And I grew.

Then came Mother-hood. My body showed great evidence of the birthing of my children, as did my energy levels, emotional (in) stability, and newfound patience. I now had three other human beings, put on this Earth by me, all looking TO me to provide, nourish, teach, and love. Wow! As they grew, learned, made mistakes, and matured, I did as well. I managed to learn along the way to slow down a bit, to really notice things as they happened around me. I watched and listened a little more carefully now. I loved every moment, good and not so good, watching these amazing people who were once actual, living parts of my own body, turn into individuals, all truly unique within themselves, seeing them overcome hurdle after hurdle. Such a reward in life I will never receive again. Or will I?

I divorced my husband, and watched my kids growing older, going out on their own, and beginning their lives as young adults.

And I grew.

When I first began my Pagan path, I was still in what is considered the Mother stage, my kids were still relatively young and “needed” me in a mommy way. I was still very fertile, and the idea of having another baby sometime was not out of the question. Time passed and that idea faded, along with my monthly menses. (Can’t say I miss them much!)

It took me quite awhile to realize that I was no longer in that stage once the Croning period began. I wanted to fight it, to deny it, all for vain reasons, I’m sorry to say. I wanted to cling to that youth, or at least the image of it. Or so I thought. Now, after having met, gotten to know, and come to love, many admirable women, all in the Crone cycle of life, I am fully aware that I too am at that stage. And come to find out, it’s not so bad after all!

As I move into my Croning time, I don’t look at it as an ending, but a beginning, very akin to giving birth (only this time, I don’t think I’ll need all the medications!) . I will be giving birth to my Self. I can allow my Self to now grow, learn, and experience life, as I once allowed my children to do these things.

I am eager to gain more wisdom as time goes by, as the Great Wheel turns, and as season drifts into season.

I am learning to cherish the lines on my face, as each one stands for some lesson learned, some path walked down, perhaps a hardship suffered and come through stronger because of it.

I have begun to admire my stretch marks as battle scars, won not on the field of some war, but fighting to bring life into this world, one wonderful child at a time.

I now embrace the fullness of my softened body, knowing that even though it may not bring life into this world any longer, or be as taut and supple as it was two decades ago, it can still allow for pleasures, for physical support, and for living life in a healthy, Goddess-filled way!

I am now allowing my mature mind to expand and create in ways that it could not in the past.

I enjoy the younger ones coming to me, asking for my opinion, needing a particular sort of comfort that only someone my age can offer.

I am now ready to walk towards the end of my path in this particular life, knowing that even though it comes towards me quicker than ever, there is still much to gather, much to pass on, but still much MORE to learn and take in.

In Pagan societies (as well as many others) Elders are looked to for advice, comfort, wisdom, and as examples. Who better to follow than a grand Crone or Sage, not past their prime, but fully embracing it, fully aware of themselves as human beings? I so hope to be such an example, to my children, my Pagan brothers and sisters, and non-Pagan friends, alike. I want to show what it is to age gracefully, to accept that life is a never-ending cycle of birth, growth, death, and re-birth, in so many ways. I want everyone to see that while youth has it’s merits and perks, so does growing older and wiser.

Whatever stage of life you may be in as a woman. Maiden, Mother, or Crone, realize the absolute beauty of the moment, embrace it for all it is worth, and live each cycle to the fullest. Know that you have earned all that you are made up of, inside and out. And fear not, for Crone is not the end of the line, it is the goal we, as women, all strive to attain.