…drums her feet against the ground… lost in estastic dance, her eyes to the stars
…drums her feet against the ground… lost in estastic dance, her eyes to the stars
A few days into the new year, I asked my guides their thoughts on me doing a tarot card spread of the upcoming year. I was told no. That took me by surprise. Some years I get told to study or to focus on different card layouts or even different divination systems. This year, I was told that looking into the future in any form or method I could use (beyond the glimpses of vision that I rarely receive) that was focused on the topic of my own future was forbidden and it extends to a few other individuals as well. It’s simply forbidden. Kinda weird how they reacted. I felt it like a shout in my head, “No!” In asking why “we don’t want you fucking up anything.” Yes, they said ‘fucking.’ Dirty-mouthed spirit guides, they be! It bugs me. That was more energy directed at me to make sure I understood how strongly they felt about this than in all the long years they have been with me, guiding me in my personal practice.
Over the years, I’ve become tight-mouthed about how I practice. I have no desire to fight over UPG vs. tradition or even if what I practice belongs to Witchcraft or Wicca or any other magical tradition. I’ve been a solitary practitioner from the start. But I miss discussions of the things of Woo. A few years back I started walking away from UU-Pagan community and I’ve never found a good group since then. Now, I’m alone in the desert with a land who choose to watch and test me, who is still testing me even now. And they found out I can hear them in my dreams. The Land Spirits here, if I can call them that, are old and hold on to the old traditions. I feel like an interloper here, deaf, blind and dumb, stumbling around like an idiot because I’m a foreigner. They do recognize me and the tendrils of my roots that stretch across the forests of the East coast. I left my power base in moving.
I under-appreciated what I had. I see now how strongly I was tied to the land, so deeply have my roots grown. Here I am a surface creature, whose roots seek to burrow into the earth, though I am no desert creature. I am one of those who is of water, who needs the companionship of the trees. Yet, I am a Daughter of Gaia so my roots tap down in the deep beneath. The Land Spirits here guard what is their own fiercely.
Last Thanksgiving I had a face to face encounters with those of this land. We camped out instead of staying in and making the whole production of a Thanksgiving Dinner. My husband took us to the Windy Hill Campground up in the Tonto National Forest. The whole ride up was surreal. My vision kept overlapping with photos from books I had read as a kid that showed different pictures of the area. I had made it to one of the places in my books! I had never expected to travel in my life. I assumed that I would live and die in Virginia without ever leaving home. There is a giddy feeling of recognizing a place without having arrived before then. It is a beautiful land out there. Desolate and windswept and sculpted by time and water. Windy Hill Campground contains so many strange sensations. The Land Spirits are watchful even there. My first night there I dreamed and faced them. I faced their anger and puzzlement as to the why I was there and on that weekend. I’ve heard their warning and their challenge. In letting the cat of the bag, I knew what the land contained, felt the surface of it near me and knew there was a second place that I knew without having arrived.
The next morning, my husband took us up to the Cliff Dwellings, unplanned, just to see what we could see. It is a choice of a two-mile walk up or the five-mile walk up the mountain to see the dwellings. And I, in my dreams, had walked about the hearths the night before. As my heart was racing from the altitude and my fitness is poor, I choose to look up as I winced of how I got this close. 2 miles, so close yet so far away. Next year, I am walking up that mountain on a pilgrimage into the pictures of a book I’d dreamed with as a child. Next year, I will succeed. And maybe, just maybe, I’ll be welcomed home.
The 6th of March arrived like a fire tornado, burning the underbrush everywhere it touched. My life was turned inside out in a matter of hours. Things that had been hidden were now, painful, revelled. And I, I suspect like a lot of us, were sitting down wondering what the heck just happened.
Mercury, that fancy shoed smooth talker of a planet, enter the House of Aries-right after leaving the House of Pisces. Communication moved from emotions to self with all the power of an advancing army. We got water burning! Boy, does it feel weird!
This isn’t a retrograde. I suspect that the Jupiter retrograde on the 8th gave this whole thing a kick in the pants. This is a giant recipe for change and there is plenty of energy to do it. So, what are we waiting for?
Do we sail these winds or what?
Brain fog, depression, body not wanting to cooperate with me; I keep pushing forward day by day. Just hoping to do better, feel better each day.
It’s Monday and I woke up at 3:30am. I haven’t been able to sleep much more than a few hours at a time. I managed four hours this time. I’m not even having the groggy. I just pop wide awake. I don’t know if I should be annoyed or not. I’m rolling with it, though.
Last few months have been mentally taxing. And my profile watching produced a most interesting thought. This 19-year old who I thought might be getting in over their head might actually be a 60ish something who’s having a blast trolling on the internet and being anything they wish to be. It’s a classic old school internet scam. The thought gave me giggles and relieved me a bit of my concern. Because if that turns out to be true, I’ll be glad of it.
Chances are, have no idea but I suspect it’s a long shot. I don’t often met such high-level fantasy players nor get sucked into their games. But this time, this one time I can say I wish this was the case.
I wish I could save everyone but I can’t. It’s not my job even if I see the danger, placed all the road signs, bordered with caution tape and set out barriers. If you ignore all that and keep going, it’s hard not to scream in frustration.
I can stand on the edge of the cliff and lend a hand back to solid ground. But I can not protect you from your own choices. I want you to grow up, grow in strength, grow in maturity so I will not baby you. I will stand aside and watch you and scream when you make a painful choice. It’s these moments I wonder why humanity decided the gods were like super parents, watching over, sometimes helping but mostly not.
It feels weird walking about life without a safety net under your soul.
It feels like maturity. So be kind to each other.
There once was a pilgrim that found the Temple of Love. In his hands, he bore a symbol of his devotion to this quest of his. And upon knocking and finding the gatekeeper quite resistant, he left dejected and stunned. His impulsively, frustration and sensitive had not gone unnoticed. Out forth from the gates, stepped She and received his gift in perfect aloneness and silence, heard but said not.
Stunned, he turned around to find her outside the gates. Oh, he was a demanding and easily frustrated one even though so enchanting and bold. Few so boldly demand an audience with Love. He went on his way with a smile not knowing the joy he’d left behind. He had brought supplications to the Temple of Love, demanding and so self-assure that He had all that was needed. He thought himself a Master in need of a student. Such a strange supplication, She thought and smiled.
“Rose I received and shall gift the same in need.”
Thus it came to past that She became his student to learn what he had so desired to teach. Many a struggle, oh yes, a struggle. For He was Her soul temptation, to bend in her purpose, to become less than she ever was, for he had not yet learned what she really is. Passions run deep, my friends. How can Heart compete? It sways and bends in the breeze, giving and never taking.
The Lady of the Temple of Heart, who’s name is hidden, became one with Pain and longing and was thus freed. “How?”, you might ask. Love each part of you, yes even your daemons, your dark side, the parts of you, you hide from the world. Love all of you. Once you do, you’ll find you’ll love others too. For I am you and you are I. We are all the same, the whole world in. It was this that He taught Her, on her knees.
What more can I tell you, my friends? This story is not written. He still stands outside those gates. In Perfect Love and Trust can those Gates open. She awaits.
Be joyed. Love is Always the Answer. All the rest is absurdity. Laugh and be merry, for all pasts on the morrow. Go, be joyful and Love. Yes, Always Love my friends. Be Love.
Now live love.
I don’t know what to call this. It’s not quite fiction, not quite real. Maybe it’s an illusion of things that has past or the past is an illusion of this that is real. A moralist tale, for sure, yet spiritual and I hope full of love and hope as I have intended to convey.
After all these years, it still cracks me up. Some of my best-crafted curses have a way of boomeranging back on my ass in some spectacular ways. All I can do is sit back and laugh, laugh at myself for it.
I have a tendency of crafting these energy balls in such a way that it’s more of a sword of truth rather than the intent to harm. Even if harm was the impulse and energy and intent that started the process, I always have managed to turn into something quite different. I’ve often let the Universe take the energy I’m tossing and decide how to use it.
I’ve managed to get quite a few of these zingers walloping back on my tail for it too.
You see, I don’t see much difference between a curse and a blessing. Whoever is doing either has no real idea if their desires are good or bad in the long run. I’ve had way too many blessings sent my way that caused unbelievable hardships and harm. And I’ve had a few curses flung my way that had amazing hidden gold.
It’s one of those things, you just never know how it’s going to be. Somehow, you hope for the best and let it fly and accept the consequences whatever they are. When you set out to change the Universe, and you’re not sure if you are doing the right thing, then you got to make it right before you do even if that means that curse you thought was so witty turns into a blessing in disguise.
I recall Lord Shiva to mind. The dance of destruction is the dance of creation. It is one and the same. Curses and blessings are identical.
And the 10 things are….
It feels cheap and trashy, like going out and picking up a redemption certificate from a street preacher or claiming baptism just because a Priest road splashed you with his car. Make your spells. Sharing them…ugg. This isn’t a show off of magic hour. Paganism is about religion.
Rune and Tarot castings and other such ilk
Why do Pagan blog focus so much on divination? Fortune telling is either an entertainment only business; then what point does it have on a religious blog or….it is a religious practice? It’s just so over done. Everyone is doing it, has done it an right now is contemplating doing it. Stop it!
Crappy book reviews…
Does every 101 book need your very own review added to the scores already out there? So go ahead and add another review promoting another crappy book. I’ve already read ten reviews about that book. I’m skipping yours.
Jewelry, glitter and gold…
I totally get this one. You saw Paganism as a great way to make money and you’re creative too. Perfect combination….make some necklaces, bracelets and earrings and neat what-nots; slap something Paganish on it and proclaim yourself a Pagan. Rake in the money…
Yeah, why don’t you have a e-store?
Altar supplies, the cups and daggers and boxes more..
Ditto for the jewelry. Selling it doesn’t belong on a blog. Yeah, argue all you want. Bite me. Sharing those photos because you want everyone to see your altar isn’t the same thing. But trying to sell me graveyard dust because you live next door to one, get real. I can take a walk to my local one just as well. Or better yet…use the dust from inside my home! Didn’t ya know the whole earth is a graveyard!
Those poor misunderstood Goths, Pagans stole your black style. Give it back! Stop Appropriating other Cultures! This just doesn’t’ apply to those half breeds of Pagan Goths; poor souls.
Honestly my poor aging eyes can not handle the extreme contrast of back on white or worse black on red. Smarten up whipper-snapper…you want your elders to read your youthful thoughts.
This element beget that sign, that beget this time, that beget that stone…..*snore…..*
Utter dry drivel that has me chewing on my nails in search for water. Ugg…There are so many different lists and none of them agree. I’ll let you in on a secret. They are made up! So make up your own! This is nothing more that someone’s UPG becoming tradition. *winks*
Never Again! Never Again the Burning Times!
Holds her hands up in the air…
Alright, alright…it’s gotten harder to find this meme cropping up anymore. Utter rubbish of myth making, one hell of a case study of telling a lie long enough, people will believe it. But to make sure it stays down, it’s made it to The List.
Proceeds the kick the meme backing into obscurity.
All other religions are big meanie poopy heads posts
You know the ones that trash whatever religion the newly converted Pagan was, like Christianity is all evil, or that Catholics stole Pagan deities and yup this crazy reason is why they should be scorned, ridiculed. Enough already. Take your hate pettling elsewhere. Your stinking up my air.
Love and Light, New Age-y Crud
Light workers of the World un-tie! Guess what….another case of appropriation. Those aren’t Pagans. Of course some might be Pagans….kinda like Gothic Pagans. But the practices are not Pagan. Those are new age-y practices that come from the mighty jumble pot of Pot…that back in the ‘70’s our parents…hmm and I guess for some of us grandparents or great grandparents poured into various religious ideas and practices and stirred. What baked out…..was a chewy mix of new age ideas. The age of Aquarius is not here.
And The Big Disclaimer:
What really sucks is that I may need this. Actually it’s a certainty. I do snarky humor at my best of times and though it might find a spot that stings, humor is what is meant. I do believe that there is nothing under the sun that can’t be laughed at and made fun of or poked with humor. If you found offense, please take a deeper look inside yourself to find the why before attempting to take bites of my delicious head. And I firmly hope the Paganism as a whole as grown up enough to poke fun at it self and laugh.
Laughter is medicine for the soul.