Dig A Little Deeper

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This time of year has always seemed to be a time of introspection for me.  The temperatures are cooling. The veil is thinning.  It is in this season that we can hear the whispers of those who have gone before.  It is in this season that emotions run raw for most people.  The cats and dogs are more sensitive than normal and so am I.

I told my roommate early last week, that I have been dreaming more about my partner who died lately.  He looks at me sternly and says, “Somebody has unfinished business…him or you.  The next time he comes to you, engage him.  Ask him what he needs.”  I told him that I would think about it.  He called me a chicken.  In certain areas of my life, I have lived on the premise of ‘leave well enough alone.’  He is gone.  I put him behind me years ago.  I don’t really have anything left of ‘us.’  I packed it up a few years before me and my current partner met.  The only things there are memories…or so I thought.

This week, I have dreamed about him every night.  In each dream, he stands…just looking at me with that same love in his eyes that I remember.  In each dream he looks a little sad.  Each dream ends the same way…he strokes the side of my head and kisses my forehead and leaves the same way he came.  By Friday night, I couldn’t bear any more.  I felt like I have been barely sleeping.  I have felt more like I have spent my sleeping hours walking between the worlds. My body feels haggard and worn out.

I have one friend who can feel my very soul.  There is no hiding from her.  She knows me as well as I know myself.  I know that when she texts me and asks how I am….I can almost see her roll her eyes when my answer is a short and sweet, “I’m ok.”  And yet she sends energy.  She knows me well enough to know that I need it…even when I think I am fine.

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Last night, I went to bed.  I could feel the restlessness already.  I drifted off and dreamed of a forest trail.  I walked slowly.  I looked around for something familiar.  Friz wasn’t there.  I looked toward the end of the path and there he stood….looking exactly as he did at his healthiest.  He smiled and reached out his hand for me to take it.  I could feel the warmth of his strong hand around mine.  I looked into his eyes…the eyes that I fell in love with more years ago than I could count.  I choked on words as I tried to talk.  He walked beside me in silence.  I looked into his eyes and asked him, “What do you need from me?”  He spoke one word, “Forgiveness.”  I remember the pain that shot through my heart in the dream.  I didn’t think I was holding onto anything anymore.  He whispered again, “Dig deeper.”

In the dream, I began to cry…deep heaving sobs.  Things flooded to my mind.  Memories of feeling deserted to finish raising my nieces by myself…memories of the financial struggles and having to deal with his family.  Memories of dealing with the hurt by myself with no one else to lean on.  I leaned into him as years of hurt poured out of me.

I awoke at 3:03 am with tears streaming down my face.  I managed a whisper, “I do forgive you.”  My partner stirred beside me and asked, “Are you ok, honey?”  I kissed him on his forehead and whispered to him, “I am now.”  I got out of bed and went into the living room.  I opened a blog that a friend of mine wrote earlier in the week.  It’s funny how things come full circle.  What was the blog about?  Forgiveness.  I have included the link below so that you can read it for yourself.

http://organizedhearthwitch.wordpress.com/2014/10/07/new-definitions-realizations/

So this morning early, I woke up a snoozing little blue chihuahua so that we could go to the woods.  He was so sleepy.  I am convinced that when I am restless, that he is just as restless.  I had to carry him the whole way.  He would look at me with one eye closed and yawn wide.  When we got to our clearing, I made myself comfortable among the fallen leaves.  Friz leaned in closely and finally crawled in between my legs and dozed off.  As I lit candles and placed the skulls, he barely moved.  I welcomed the directions, the elements, the Lord and Lady, and my spirit guides.  I had read a dear friend’s post on Facebook yesterday.  It was a stern warning for the seasons ahead:

We seem to have slammed….yes…head on slammed into the waning time…emotions are running amuk….be it retrograde…the dark season…a combo of things…but it’s not good for many. I’m going to be stern, and blunt…get a grip…a hard solid grip on yourself…and your emotions. NOW. Life is to be lived…it’s not always good..or fun..or fair….but it is a gift. And should be cherished. I’ve been called fluffy, a sunshine light worker, Pollyanna…a number of things…but I work so hard to balance the negative of everyday life….I know the aftermath of death….I see it. You can fall into the abyss of darkness so easily. When the walls between the worlds are thin….when darkness creeps in…when the earth prepares to sleep…many of us slither into depression, despair…get lost in the mists and choose to stay there. The Morrigan I follow fights for life….rises up to the challenges of everyday stress….she battles hopelessness and darkness with a sword so bright it will blind you….and you can follow her into the light…you rise up and face that great void…you cross…and you raise your sword and shield in victory! DO NOT give up…no matter how much darkness is around you…the sun rises, there is light everyday….see your way out and greet it! BB

 

This morning needed to be a celebration….a celebration of my life and who I have become.  It needed to be a morning of joy. I began to sing from deep in my spirit.  I could see Mama Crow and Wolf moving rhythmically to the sounds coming from me.  Almost as if on cue, that little blue chihuahua flopped onto his back in my lap with his belly in the air.  He squirmed at me which is his signal for me to rub him.  I laughed out loud.  I find that laughter can be powerful magick.

In this season of the waning time, as we walk some days with darkness only two steps behind.  As those who have gone on pass through once again, it is important for us to dig deep into our spirits and remember and hold to that joy that may be buried to sustain us.  This is the time for laughter to overtake us…the time to dance.  It is in this season that the earth’s heartbeat may grow a bit faint…but mine is strong and mine powerful….and when I think about the witches and fur people who have been placed around me….my heart leaps.  My voice carries through the night sky as I lean my head back and dance.  I am a witch…I am a witch.  There is magick yet to be done.

Blessed Be!

Battling Societies Demons

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I love Joel Robison’s photography.  It seems to portray every emotion that I could ever think of feeling.  His work gets right to the heart of people.

I had errands to run this afternoon.  This meant that I had to go out into the midst of people.  As I grow older, I despise being around crowds more and more.  As I strolled through the mall looking for jeans (nope, I don’t wear cloaks and robes all the time), I constantly had to dodge couples with strollers, endure screaming children, and watch others who felt way too entitled, run sales clerks ragged.  As I stood in line at one store to purchase that one pair of jeans, one of those self-entitled people pushed her way in front of me.  “I only have the one item.  I don’t have time to wait in line.”  Yep.  Wrong thing to say to this witch.  I could feel those flying monkeys raising up inside of me.  I could feel the poison beginning to drip over the apple. I looked at her solemnly and quietly said, “You need to get back in line.”  She ignored me and pushed me out of the way.  The push was all it took.  “Get the fuck to the back of the line, bitch!” roared up from my chest.  She stood there with her mouth gaping open staring at me.  Again, quietly, I said to her, “Get to the back of the line.  Your lack of manners and your sense of self importance aren’t going to get you anything with me.”  She slowly backed away from me to the tail-end of the slow moving line.

The second part of my journey took me to Michael’s.  I needed a few more fall leaves for the top of my buffet.  As I walk through the store, I hear a mother screeching at her child across that store and the child screeching back.  This went on for the entire 45 minutes I was in there.  I got in that line and who do you think I got behind…the banshee and her brat.  They are yelling back and forth at each other as they stand in line.  In fact, they are yelling so much that they don’t hear the cashier call them up to check out….five different times.  She screamed louder.  I told her that the cashier was calling her up. She then screeched at me.  I looked at her with fire in my eyes…”Listen, you loud-mouthed screeching heifer who is apparently passing all of your wonderful qualities down to your wretched child, move your ass to the checkout, shut your mouth, and get out of my sight.”  My mama always told me to offer directions to folks who needed them. 2014-10-05 19.09.14

The final part of my journey today, brought me back home.  As I settled in for a much needed nap,  I hear the upstairs neighbors.  It sounds as if they have the whole entourage of Ringling Brothers and Barnum and Bailey’s Circus up there.  I hear thump….crash….boom.  My dogs nerves are shattered.  My cats are hiding in the closet.  I walk purposefully up the stairs to the door of the condo.  I ring the doorbell.  The guy answers and his words are, “What’s the problem?”  “Oh, I don’t know.  Could it be the fact that you and your children sound like herds of wild horses running across my ceiling.  It isn’t like we haven’t discussed this before.” He responds, “I don’t think they are loud.”  As I walked down the stairs, I told him that it’s ok…from this point forward, the police will be called, the landlord…whoever I need to call.  I am tired.2014-10-05 08.59.19

I needed the woods desperately.  I could feel my blood pressure climbing higher and higher.  I needed to ground.  I needed time with my dog and no one else.  Friz and I head past the condos and back toward the edge of the woods.  I had my mini Book of Shadows with me.  Everything inside me wanted to spew out curses.  I was lying on my stomach in the dirt turning page by page.  I came across an entry from over a year ago.  I read it slowly.  As I read, I realized that I wasn’t battling people.  I was battling the demons or oppressive energies of society.  People are so stressed now.  They honestly don’t know whether to wind their butt or scratch their watch.  I look around and I see people moving in auto-pilot.  At least I have nature. I can look in their eyes and see that there is absolutely nothing there.

All I can do is try to insulate myself.  I have to keep myself surrounded in magick at all times.  It is hard to remember when tempers flair.  As I absorbed the coolness and the energy from the earth, I listened for the heart beat of the Earth Mother.  This time of year as the veil grows thinner, it is almost as if I can hear my grandmother in my ear.  “You have to move like the trees in the breeze.  You have to move like water…let things flow around you and through you….as long as there is movement, it will filter out the negative.”

I stayed in the woods for a long long while this afternoon….hours.  When I finally pulled myself off of the ground, my body was cold.  I could feel it down to my bones.  I think I realized today…I need to be in the woods more.  I need not to hear the voice of society…I do that enough at work.  I need to hear the wind, the leaves, the wisdom of the trees.  After all, isn’t that where the witches of old sought council?  Animals….trees….spirits.  I need to stop being bound by the devils that society has welcomed in and entertained.   I need to remember how to fly.2a244c55aaef21ef7f528aa59e3cd5b4

Investing in the Magick of Others

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As I sit here writing tonight, Lifetime has a small Hocus Pocus marathon playing.  As I peck on the computer keyboard, I hear Winifred Sanderson wailing out, “Boooooooooooook!  Let thy presence be known!”  There is a slight (very slight) chill in the air…a light breeze.  The windows are open and I can hear the trees dancing a bit.  I have a cup of hot tea sitting in front of me, sweetened with honey.  Friz is lightly snoring on the back of the overstuffed chair and Merlin lies wrapped in a blanket on the ottoman.  Mabon has just passed and we run with gusto toward Samhain.  The wheel is turning.

I love the sky this time of year.  When I look up, it seems as though every cloud and open space has been painted with the colors of the season.  Yesterday when I got home from work, I could feel the sky calling to me.  It drew me near with an eerie orange color.  I pondered to myself about why it is this time of year that everything and everyone seems to be drawn to the color orange…the color of pumpkins and leaves.  I took Friz out for a quick walk before I left with my partner for his night with his bowling league.  Friz smelled the air and pulled against the leash.  I knew exactly which direction he was heading.  I had to corral him back to the condo with a promise of going out for a longer time once I got back home later.2014-09-07 22.57.47

 

I will spare the details of me sitting at bowling stuffing my face with chicken fingers and tater tots as my partner and his team bowled strikes and spares and splits and Tony Orlando and Dawn played loudly over the speakers.

We got back home and I told my partner that I was taking Friz for a walk.  “But it is after 9pm and it’s dark outside.”  I told him that I would be ok and that I had my ferocious wolf-dog to protect me.  He cocked his eyebrow at me in disbelief, but he agreed that I would be fine.  I knew I would be fine, but it was nice to hear the concern in his voice.

Friz and I followed our normal path.  As we walked, I talked to Friz about the changing of the season and the turning of the Wheel of the Year.  This was a busy week for us.  We had Mabon, a dark moon, and a New moon all in one week.  As much as I love the full moon…I love the New moon.  The New moon for me symbolizes starting over…new beginnings.  The way I look at the New moon is kind of like a large round magic eraser.  It has the power to do away with the past and make everything brand new and squeaky clean.  Hmmmm….Just like Magick!!  I can already hear people saying, “But it doesn’t do that for me….I have the same problems that I had before the New moon happened.”  Well, I am going to ask something that may sound a little harsh.  Why do you try so hard to hold onto it?  

Friz and I rounded our usual corner…that same one that we always look toward with anticipation.  We weren’t disappointed.  There perched the Green Wizard, but at the bottom part of the column, was a lump of hair.  I strained my eyes to get a better look.  As we got closer, Friz went into his little general pose.  His tail went straight up and he began a low siren in his chest that generated into a loud wail.  There was a dog with the Green Wizard.  As I got closer, I could see that it was some type of herding dog mix.  It was a good looking dog…but how did it come to be with the Green Wizard?

When I got close enough to both of them, I could see the immense grin on the Green Wizard’s face.  By now, Friz was calming down a bit and the sniffing had begun.  There were no growls…just tons of sniffing and butt-wagging.  I asked the Green Wizard, “Where did you get him/her?”  “He is a him, but he has been neutered.  I was walking in the outskirts of the city and on a not-so-busy street, a car drove by and I watched as he was pushed out of the door as the car slowed down.  He chased the car for a bit, but finally gave up.  I walked toward him and held my hand out.  He looked as if he had just lost everything…so I asked him if he wanted to go with me…and here we are.”  Unfortunately, one thing I have seen in Atlanta is that some animals as well as some people are looked at as disposable.

I was totally amazed at the story.  I could see a few abrasions on the dog.  He seemed to have good teeth and strong musculature.  He was probably only about a year old.  He had the shape of a mix of Border Collie, Shepherd…who knows what mix.  He was probably way too much energy for the people who abandoned him.  I told the Green Wizard to meet me back here in the complex in the morning and we would take him to get him checked out.

We walked on toward the woods.  I asked the Green Wizard if he had named his new friend.  “His name is Boomer.  That’s short for Boomerang.”  He winked at me as he said this.  I had told him the story of wanting to name our other dog Boomerang so that we would have a Frisbee and a Boomerang in our care.  So here we walk toward the woods…a Weathered Wiseman, a Green Wizard, a Frisbee and a Boomerang.

Friz is a great judge of character…I guess he figured that since this new dog was a friend to the Green Wizard that he might as well play nice.  We settled down in our clearing.  Boomer nestled in closely to the Green Wizard…he put his head down on his leg.  I can imagine that he longed for that contact…that certainty that he wouldn’t be deserted again.  The Green Wizard leaned down and kissed him on the top of the head.

As I set up the altar…candles, skulls, crystals…I would lean in to light the candles.  I will say that Boomer is a curious pup.  He would lean in close to the candle where I guess the smoke tickled his nose.  He would huff and blow the candle out.  We went through this process at least three times. It was a night of animal magick.  Crow and Wolf stood at a distance.  I performed Reiki on Boomer as Friz wallowed in the lap of the Green Wizard.  When I finished, it was like having a wobbly putty-like dog in my hands.  He ambled back over to the Green Wizard.  I watched as they put nose to nose, forehead to forehead.  I listened as the Green Wizard whispered to his new companion that he would never have to worry about being left or abandoned again.  I watched as this dog leaned his weight into this young man, choosing to believe every word he said.  He chose to cling to his new beginning.

I whispered blessings over my friend and his new companion.  I watched as they both drifted off to sleep under the night sky.  I packed up and asked him if he wanted to come with me.  He followed me through the complex.  I had not even paid attention to the fact that Boomer was wearing the collar that Calliope had worn.  As we parted, I told him to meet me at the front of the complex as soon as it was light this morning.Starlight-night1

 

I drove to the complex entrance and there sat that young wizard and his new friend.  I had them get into the car…which was a bit of a struggle for poor Boomer.  I imagine memories don’t fade that quickly.  It was 7:30am and we arrived at a low cost clinic.  We went in and signed in and I think the Green Wizard was more nervous than the dog.  He pulled out a $20 bill and told the receptionist that he wanted Boomer to have what was necessary and this was the money he had.  I had already arranged for vaccines and a physical when we walked in and told the receptionist to take what he offered and I would cover the rest…just not to let him know it.  It isn’t charity…It is like I told a friend today, “I believe in investing in the magick of others.”  I have never been disappointed….and I have always received far more than I have ever given.

I challenge you as the seasons change and the wheel turns.  Look for ways to invest in the magick of others.  You will be surprised at what comes back to you.  The investment can be in humans, animals…any number of things.  Isn’t that what truly encompasses the heartbeat of the universe?

Blessed Be!

 

Be the Witch You Are

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Sitting outside, minding my own business, playing with my phone and eating my lunch while overhearing a small group of inconsiderate Buckhead Bettys talking smack about everything from their husbands to the maids and everyone in between. When a bird flew by and crapped in one of their salads. You should have seen the look on her face and heard the shriek she let out when she bit into a spoonful of bird crap.

This is from the Facebook post of a friend of mine.  We have all been fed crap at some point in our lives.  We have been told that we aren’t doing something correctly or that something we believe isn’t the truth or that we are wrong for being who we are.503155

In looking back, in so many ways, I was a chameleon.  I was always changing to blend into my surroundings.  I think back to my high school years…I was neither jock nor redneck or geek or popular.  I blended with all of those crowds.  It was easy to fade into the background, never having enough voice to speak to who I really was.

As I aged, I became more confident in who was inside my skin.  It became easier to say the “G” word.  I was confident enough to walk down the street holding hands with my partner.  Charlotte, North Carolina was not quite as confident in my ‘gayness’ as I was.  I remember being beaten up a few times just for standing strong and believing in who I am.  I couldn’t understand why other people should be allowed to show the love they had for their significant other in public places, but I couldn’t.

More years added more callouses.  I came out of another closet…the broom closet.  Once more the chorus of background voices started singing the “you need to…you ought to…you’ve got to…” serenade.  People can’t seem to understand that others have to walk their own path.  We feel the need to push them bound and gagged down the path we think they should follow.

Social media has become a great source of access to those practicing the Craft, but with the many groups, it can also be a great source of judgement for those who may be new and walking with a bit of uncertainty.  Don’t get me wrong, there are groups out there that are honestly interested in the growth of those new to the Craft.  It is when I see others take a holier than thou attitude when it comes to aiding someone in their journey that starts that slow burn in me.  I also have no time for those who will question or ridicule a path that someone walks because it doesn’t mirror their own.1375283_10152309486609007_5108159257972466424_n

Our lives are an evolution.  We are constantly growing…branching into many different directions.  We have to allow others to walk, to fall…but we have to be willing to pick them up.  We have to be willing to change.  The world around us shows us that change is the only constant in our lives.

This morning, when Friz and I made our way to the woods, I could smell change in the air.  Even though it was still warm-ish out, there was a crispness in the air.  I carried Friz most of the way this morning.  It had been a week since we had seen each other (I was away on business in Florida).  I honestly have to say that as we rounded the corner to the column where the Green Wizard normally shows himself, I felt a bit disheartened when I didn’t see him.  I walked toward the woods with Friz cradled in the crook of my arm.  We got to our little clearing and I started unpacking…candles, bones, magickal what nots…and breakfast.  Just as I settled in, I heard a rustling that startled me.  I turned quickly and let out a short yelp as the Green Wizard rushed toward me.  Friz was all excited.  I think I peed a little just from the surprise.

He fell onto the leaves laughing and I did a mock scowl.  He chuckles out an apology.  I can’t be mad….after all, I was so disappointed when I didn’t see him…and it was so good seeing the twinkle in his eyes coming back.  We talked about everything and nothing all at once.  He asked about the trip to Florida and I questioned him about his journeys for the week.  We talked about the approaching change in seasons and Mabon.  We talk about things to come.  The Green Wizard’s mood becomes more somber, “You know you are the only person who doesn’t look at me and see a homeless bum.  You have taken the time to get to know me.  You understand who I am.  You have taken time to understand my hopes and my dreams…to know that there is more to me than ragged clothes and a wandering path.”

I explained to him that to some degree, we are all wandering.  We are all ragged and dirty from all that life throws at us and throws us into…but we continue the journey.  We find who we are buried in those moments when no one else is looking at us…when we fade into the background.  It is in the silence that we learn to hear and recognize our own voices.

I read a piece written and shared on Facebook by a dear friend of mine, Cindy Maluna,

Mabon…September 22. The second of the three major harvests, and also the autumn equinox. The balance between light and dark. Southern hemisphere….Ostara…spring equinox. The days grow shorter, darker from here on out. Things die, or will become dormant…a necessity. This marks the descent of the Sun God….he will return at Yule. Just a short time actually…and the coming months are full of activities to keep us busy. We’ve enjoyed the veggies…will savor the fruits…and survive the winter. We will. We’ll order bulbs…plan our gardens….tend our houses. You can’t change the cycles…one balances the other…death. Rebirth. You have to look at it with practicality, with realism. Our bodies change, we grow old, we die. Those who give birth….our legacy…goes on. Those who don’t have children….you leave your mark on this world…your thoughts, deeds, yes…you are still part of the great thread of life. We’re entering the Crone stage….and believe me…it’s an awesome time…can’t have children anymore? Give birth to yourself….create this special time of YOU. I move slower, ache more, take longer to do things….but I enjoy what I do, what I create….I savor it. I love it. You have so much to contribute to this world…until the day you die…you have opportunities right in front of you. Don’t miss out by looking back… what you were…..create what you will be. Harvest, eat it up…and enjoy. You are on this Earth….make it count. Become a legacy….welcome Mabon. BB2014-09-20 18.38.13

 

I explained that it was through Magick, through our own legacy of the Craft, I came to know and to understand him and him, me.  I walked him through my own daily journeys….learning every day to be a more genuine, effective me.  Those closest to me see my failures…they watch me fall.  More important than anything in the world, though, is the fact that they see me pick myself up, brush off the dirt and keep on moving.  I have only one desire and that is to be the best I can personally be.  I fully intend to be the witch I am.

Blessed Be!

The Energies Around Us

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My partner and I took a long weekend trip to Savannah last weekend.  It was a wonderful trip…we were able to spend time together, get to know each other all over again.  It was a wonderful time.  So many old sights and old beautiful buildings…it truly is one of the oldest cities in the south.

One thing that I have found as I have visited many areas in North and South America, is that with old cities comes energies…lots of energies.  Years ago, when I visited Ecuador, as we traveled the mountain villages of the Quituan people, the ancient energies permeated the atmosphere around us.  It was the same as we walked the lands of the Lakota on the Standing Rock Reservation in South Dakota.

I had always heard that you couldn’t walk two feet in Savannah without walking over a dead body.  After visiting the city, I can believe it.  There is energy coming from the Native American spirits buried beneath the city.  There is energy coming from the settlers and those who died from yellow fever who are buried in mass graves throughout the city.  There is pirate energy left by those who ran rum and shanghaied sailors….and there is energy left inside the houses of the long-dead rich who showcased their fortunes through these grand homes.2014-08-30 10.58.17

To be honest, as wonderful as our trip was, I was surrounded by what felt like constant static electricity all weekend long.  We would come back to the room at night and we both would completely sack out.  I realized later that this came from the constant buzzing of spirit energy around me.

On Sunday night, we took a tour of the Sorrell-Weed house…equipped with EMF detectors, recorders and cameras.  I listened as people tried to provoke spirits.  We were warned not to get left behind.  Of course, we are all in the basement and I walk around a corner, only to be warned from a distance that it is the corner of the basement with the most activity.  I turn around only moments later to find that I have been left alone in the basement.  I ran to the courtyard to join the group and am standing over an area of bricks to be told that where I am standing is where the lady of the house plummeted to her death.  I moved quickly.

I realize that we are around spirit energy every day of our lives, but this was so much concentrated energy.  This was old energy…energy that has had centuries to build.  I also realize that we need to ground and cleanse after that much exposure to that much energy.  I dealt with this energy most of my week last week.  Every day that I worked, I faced the harsh, unresolved energy that most often raises its head in anger.  This anger came through the tongues of my customers.  By the end of the week, I was exhausted.  I was not going to have time to myself until after I got back from my partners Friday night bowling league.2014-09-05 14.08.57

When we got home, I made a run for the woods.  If I could have crawled inside of one of the trees, I would have.  I needed to feel grass.  I needed to feel dirt.  I needed the feel of tree bark against me.  I needed the calmness of the elements.  I nestled myself against a large oak tree.  I closed my eyes and called to the elements to pour over me…to cleanse me of any residual energy that may have come with me from the trip.  I dozed off against that mighty oak, comforted by the heart of the tree and the earth beneath me.  I was awakened by the scream of the cicadas swarming around in the night air, but still so masterfully hidden.  I stumbled back to the condo…rejuvenated but still tired.  I crawled into bed and dreamed of witchy things.  It is funny….I think sometimes that I am the only witch who seems to have Harry Potter-like dreams.  I soar on broomsticks and watch as magick flows from my wand.

I woke up before dawn this morning.  Friz missed our weekend ritual as much as I did.  He spent last weekend boarding.  He had to trade his walk through the trees and grass and leaves for a cement floor and sleeping in a room with his sister.  He was ready for lap time with his Pop and morning woods time.  We made our way into the heart of the woods.  Even though the heat is still in the air, you can also smell the beginnings of autumn.  The wheel has begun its shift.  Leaves have started turning and falling.  This morning I took pumpkin scented candles with me and one called ‘smoke.’   As I lay there watching the flames lick the air, Friz curled up under my chin and drifted off quickly.  I could feel the heartbeat of the earth under me.  I listened as Mama Crow and Wolf joined us.  I took deep cleansing breaths….breathing in the freshness of the trees and leaves around me.

As I absorbed the calmness…I couldn’t help thinking about what I hold inside me.  I walk through each day with the power of magick.  Everything I touch, I impart magick to.  As I grow older…just as the Lord does this time of year, it seems that those beyond the veil become more approachable and not so hard to connect with.  As Mabon and then Samhain draw closer and the veil becomes even thinner,  I intend to spend more time among the trees absorbing their strength and calm…and when I lie down at night to sleep, I will continue to dream of flying.

Blessed Be.

2014-08-20 22.25.17

 

Riding Out the Storm

storm gif

 

For some reason, I have never really been afraid of storms.  I can remember, as a child, when a storm would come, my mother would gather us up (kids, dogs, cats, everyone) and run to the middle of the house.  She needed for us to be as far away from windows and doors as possible.  We would all huddle in the hall next to the bathroom and she would sit and rock and cry.  My inclination was quite the opposite.  I wanted to run toward the door, fling it open and be right in the middle of it.  The lightning was fascinating.  My grandma would tell me stories of the Cherokee Thunderers…they were fierce beings, but I was never made to feel afraid of them.  I saw them as something otherworldly and magickal.

Still now, when I feel the electricity that comes with a thunder and lightning storm, I am drawn to it.  I feel the need to be right in the middle of it.  When I hear storms brewing, it brings to mind what I learned in school…”the calmest place is in the eye of the storm.”  Right there in the middle of the storm is the calmest, most still air.  It is funny to think of it this way, but right there in the middle of what may be a hurricane, is the lowest amount of pressure.  That area is where there can be an opening for light to come in and where the breezes are light.

I have been surrounded by people this week enveloped in storms.  It is like I have said before, people are attracted to the magick they see in others.  I have been called on by folks in the midst of breakups, depression, anxiety. My advice?  Learn to ride the storm.  The one thing that I have noticed regarding humans, is that they always want to fist-fight the wind.

Watching people weather the storms in their lives reminds of the rodeo.  It is much like bull riding.  Why in the world would anyone want to climb on the back of a bull and see how long they can stay on? A sense of accomplishment?  Maybe.  To prove that they can? Possibly.  They reason that cowboys will climb onto the back of a bull to see how long they can stay on…the prize at the end of the ride.  So you just climb on the back of that bull, sit down and do nothing but wait for the ride to end, right?  No.  Your body has to follow the motion of the bull.  You must be aware of the movements the bull is making and mirror that to some extent.  You definitely have to be flexible.

bull ride

I was walking Friz through the complex this morning.  Again, we were greeted by the sight of green dusty cloak and a familiar mop of dirty brown hair.  He sat in the same spot he was last week.  It tore at my heart to see him sitting alone.  Isn’t that how most of us try to face the challenges and hurts in our lives, though?  Alone. His face lights up when he sees little Friz saunter up to him.  Friz’s whole body shook with joy seeing our friend against the early morning darkness.  The green wizard scooped him up and leaned into the thousands of licks that invaded his cheeks.

We walked and talked as he carried Friz close to his chest.  He talked about how hard the past week has been for him….like a part of his heart had been ripped out.  He said that it felt like walking with one leg and no staff.  Sleeping was hard because he had always fallen asleep listening to Calliope breathing.  I looked in his eyes and noticed that the sparkle that is normally visible was faint. His eyes looked weak.  As we moved closer to the center of the woods, he seemed relieved to see the canape of branches and leaves above us.  He lay down in the midst of the leaves and pine needles.  Friz took the opportunity to crawl up onto his belly and nestle.

I never know how often the green wizard gets to eat, so this morning I had made a cottage cheese carton full of grits and eggs and cheese. I handed it to him with a bottle of juice.  He laughed out loud, “Who would have ever thought that I would have run into another magickal being here in the middle of this condominium complex…much less two?”  I saw him wink at Friz as he said it.  He ate slowly….savoring every bite.  He shared a bite with Friz here and there.  We talked about magick.  We talked about animals.  We talked about friendships.  We laughed about unlikely friendships.  I sat there as he rode the winds of his own storm.  I watched as he released the pain of loss.

It amazes me how much magick is contained in the things that we seem to take for granted.  The Hedge witches of old knew this.  Most of their magick involved the things found in everyday life.  Herbs, animals…the things that were right outside their doors.  Who would know that tears could be such a powerful potion.  It is the magick that stirs inside of us that could very well bring healing, peace of mind, understanding and courage.

I was taken back to my childhood today.  I have written about Crazy Mary…the local homeless person in my hometown.  Everyone was afraid of her…they always went the other way.  I remember her smile as a five year old Weathered Wiseman hugged her.  That memory washed over me today.  As I wrapped my arms around the green wizard, I could feel the magick working.  How many had turned the other way when they saw him?  How many had kept from making eye contact?  He had his own storms to ride out just like everyone else.

In all my years working at a vet, I have seen dogs with storm phobias out the wazoo.  Thankfully, my dogs have never been afraid of thunder or rain.  This afternoon, however, I was sitting on the sofa when a huge boom of thunder rang through the house.  My cat, Merlin, sat straight up on the dining room table….I could see his eyes dilating.  I began talking to him.  “What’s wrong, Merlin?  Everything is fine.  Do you want to come and sit beside daddy?”  With those words, this seventeen pound cat, who most of the time seems fearless, climbed onto the sofa beside me…leaned hard into my side, closed his eyes and purred.  In the midst of his fear, he found that calm place….right there in the middle of the storm.

Blessed Be!

2013-02-07 19.25.04

The Resurgence of the Cunning Man

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I have been reading quite a bit lately.  The book that has been the focus of my attention is called, “The Cunning Man’s Handbook” by Jim Baker.  This book covers the practices of the English Cunning Man from years 1550-1900.  It covers the evolution of the cunning folk and the progression of their magick.  These were the healers, charmers, and magicians of the day.  It even discusses the relation to the African practice of Hoodoo.

The cunning folk of the age literally lived at the boundaries of society.  Most were positioned outside of the main hub of villages, simply because the religious leaders of the times were more than suspicious of their practices which may have included tinctures, potions, charms, amulets, spells or curses.

Even looking toward Shamanism, you see often that the Holy Man was often located at the edge of the encampment.  This was not just a way of separating him from the ‘common’ folk….but a means of protection for the tribe.  His medicine would ward off evil spirits and anyone or anything that would wish harm upon the people.

This book has caused my mind to reel and analyze my own practices.  How many times in a week or month are we approached by those around who know that we are witches and conjurers?  How often do they approach us tentatively for fear that someone in their immediate circle might find out what they are doing?  To whom do we remain in the ‘broom closet?’

I know that many in my own condo complex seek me out to give advice or to interpret the latest dream.  Friends call on me when energies are needed or they want a charm for ‘luck’ or protection.  I am the one in my cube at work that has the scent of lavender wafting around him.  I keep a hag stone with a crow bone hidden under my shirt as an amulet.  I keep a large chunk of amethyst on my desk as a ‘paperweight.’

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As I reclined on the sofa last night, I felt antsy.  The more I tried to relax, the less relaxation would come.  I decided that  it would be the perfect night for magick in the courtyard.  There were breezes blowing…I figured it might be a good night for pushing things out of the way.  I built a fire in the cauldron, settled down in front of it with handfuls of herbs, and addressed the directions, the elements, my guides.  It amazes me how wrapped up people get in the ‘you aren’t doing that the way it is supposed to be done’ mentality.  I have been practicing witchcraft for way too many years to care about the way others think it should be done.  If I have learned one thing about magick…it is the fact that it is ever-changing…so why shouldn’t we be the same.

I love the fact that when my spirit connects with the spirits of my guides and the ancients…there simply is no other way to say it…magick happens. It seems as if the elements dance around me, calling me to fly with them.  It is in this time that it is very evident that the Horned One is very much alive in me.  It is in this season of harvest that I feel that energy for the hunt and the harvest coursing through me.  As the air grows more and more crisp with each day, I feel more and more alive.  It is as if I feel my own energy and virility coursing through. It is in this time that my second sight becomes keener…my sense of smell sharper…my hearing, even more acute.

It is in this time that creativity soars to the surface.  My brain begins to create faster than my hands.  So many thoughts, spells, potions, tools playing chase through my brain.  It is normally in those times that I am most at home in the woods…just at the edge of society.

Most people look forward to the weekend for sleeping late.  I don’t know what that is anymore.  I am most excited by the opportunity to disappear into the woods.  This morning, I woke Friz up before the light of dawn and he and I made our way away from the busy-ness of condo life.  As we rounded that last corner, I recognized a familiar figure.  He was sitting on one of the brick half columns at the edge of the woods.  His knees were up close to his chest and his arms were holding them.  His head was hidden in the nest created by his limbs.  His green cloak covered him completely.  He looked up at me when he heard the rustling of mine and Frisbee’s feet.

He was alone.  I looked for Calliope and then I saw the sadness in his eyes.  We knew she had some years on her…I don’t think he knew exactly how many.  They had gone to sleep together one night, but only one woke up the next morning.  His consolation was knowing that spirit lives forever and that her energy would constantly swirl about him.  Still, that doesn’t make losing a friend any easier.  It was as if Friz sensed the vacancy in his heart.  He extended his feet up the column where the Green Wizard sat.  The Green Wizard shifted so that he could pick him up.  Friz and the Green Wizard nuzzled each other deeply.  Friz looked back at me as if saying, “Is it ok?  He really needs me now.”  I nodded to him and he went back to nuzzling this weathered, saddened young man.

The Green Wizard looked up at me and forced a smile as he tried to clear the giant lump in his throat.  He tried to choke out a sentence, but I stopped him.  I told him that the greatest thing about friends is that words aren’t always needed.  With those words, this tired, dirty, emotionally drained young man wrapped his arms around me.  He has spent his life truly living the life of the Cunning Man.  Always kept at arms length from society.  Walking…always walking….and now alone.

This morning the magick was simple.  It was two men and one blue chihuahua honoring the spirit of a faithful friend.

Blessed Be!