The Death of the Green Man

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As the seasons swirl around us, we are entering into the transition from light into darkness and back into light again.  We have gone from the wild abandon of summer into the time when the Green Man’s colors begin to change and death overtakes him to make way for his transition into the Holly King.  Our lives seem to always be centered around transition.  Those things that we wish we could control…we have no control over at all.

As we move into this Yule season and cold overtakes the Earth (even in Atlanta, we live in anticipation of the shift in weather).  The briskness that comes with the Northern winds jolts us into a state of expectation.  As we celebrate the different manifestations of our own holiday with others who celebrate in their own ways, we set our eyes on the approach of the longest night of the year….knowing that the light of spring is not far off.

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 Over the past few years, I have become intimately acquainted with the green man through visits from an unexpected stranger.  Someone I have introduced to you as simply, the Green Wizard.  I have learned first hand what a kind, gentle spirit can accomplish through him.  I have learned to listen more intently to what the earth teaches…all through him.  I have learned to trust the heart of faithful friends more. I have learned to love someone who could do absolutely nothing for me other than be a friend and a magickal confidante…someone who represented purity of heart and selfless abandon.

I found out yesterday that the Green Wizard has journeyed into the summerlands.  I received more information this afternoon.  He apparently collapsed on the sidewalk of a small town close to the Tennessee border.  They took him to the hospital where it was found that his heart was giving out.  Boomer, his dog, was put in holding in the local animal shelter.  He quietly slipped from this plane in his sleep.  They found my name and Atlanta, Georgia written on a sheet of paper in his pocket.  The authorities assumed that I might be the next of kin.  I explained that I was a friend and asked what happened to his dog.  I was also told where his pup, Boomer was located.

I engaged my cousin who does animal rescue and she arranged for someone who works with her to go and get Boomer and set up a fostering situation.  There are many more things that have transpired due to his homelessness…especially since there was no identification of any kind associated with him and no direction as far as family or even a name…the one thing that was told to me by the contacting authorities was that at least he knew friendship…there were many who passed on knowing nothing but rejection and hatred.

In my mind, though, I will always see him dancing on the wind.  I can close my eyes and see his ruddy face, his eyes twinkling with hopes and dreams and always that sparkle of magick.  He enjoyed the freedom of being who he was…an extension of the wild God.  I can hear his hearty laugh echoing through the branches of the trees in the woods.  He will forever be Peter Pan to me….always dancing with the moon.

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Am I sad?  Yes…but I can never forget that wonderful spirit.  He always looked for that bit of magick in all things…whether it be an old pair of sneakers…a dog that was considered a throw-away…or a weathered old wizard who seemed to be a little out of sorts himself.

Especially, in this season, I know that so much of the world seems to slumber…waiting patiently for rebirth.  It will be the same for my Green Wizard.  He only sleeps now….we have known each other before in other lives and other magickal places.  It is only a matter of time before we see each other again.

I am excited for him.  This is a new adventure….a fresh beginning coming with the new moon.  This is his chance to be reunited with his beloved Calliope…a chance to dance and finally fly among the stars.  I am privileged to have been able to be a part of his magick.2015-11-19 07.28.06

His energy will always soar around me….sneaking up behind me when I least expect it…laughing heartily at the unexpected.  He was a child of the moon and sun…the earth was his bed and the grass, his pillow.  He was friend to the winged, and four-legged.  He loved completely and wildly and unconditionally.

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As the Green man sleeps, the blood of the Holly King courses through his veins…anticipating his awakening beneath a shield of ice and snow.  With magick, nothing ever completely dies.

And so he goes…with the heart of a true witch.

Blessed Be!

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I See the Moon and the Moon Sees Me…

This week’s blog was written by someone who taught me a strong and powerful lesson.  Upon hearing of this man, I was determined not to like him.  I was determined that I would always keep him at arm’s length…but then magick showed its face.  Isn’t it just like Magick to turn our thoughts and emotions upside down and teach us a lesson?  I put myself before the goddess one long weekend day and was presently taught that I could never know what battles someone else was fighting.  I learned that I had to empty my heart of judgement and offer kindness instead of anger or offense.

That powerful lesson earned me a friend…one that I trust enough to have him share his magickal experiences with you. I stand here and proudly offer you the writings of someone I am deeply honored to call my friend, “Fredric Terra.”

Blessed Be!

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My first memory of the moon; I’m 2 or 3 years old at my grandparents’ home. Standing in the front yard as a lady and man are leaving after their visit.

The moon seems nearly full and the lady is asking if I see the moon, and is telling me that the shadows on the moon are her and Uncle Arthur on his motorcycle. She asks if I can see the front wheel in the shadow, and everything following behind with her and Uncle Arthur riding along. I was able to follow along, I saw the shadows, it made no sense to me – maybe I was missing her point, but that event has stayed with me; it was about the moon.

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I’ve always had a strong fascination with her, and her strength. As a child helping my grandfather and dad tap maple trees for the sap and boil it into syrup, my grandfather always counted on the full moon to bring more sap, lots more…it always did and still does. Moonlit nights at the sugar camp in the woods in February were so special. No they were more than special, they were magical. Grandpa and dad keeping the fires built just right, ladling sap from one kettle to the next, sometimes Aunt Annie telling stories about ghosts and other mystical tales….but mostly, I was captivated by moonlight that surrounded us on the clear nights.

The pull of the moon affects the tides, the flow of sap in the maple trees – and me. As I transitioned through adolescence I would watch for the clear moonlit nights and stay up as late as I could just watching for hours from my south facing bedroom window, or sneaking outside in warmer weather.

At some point when I was 12 or 13 I began doing rituals. I didn’t know they were rituals, I didn’t realize or understand what I was doing but looking back with what I know today, they were rituals nonetheless. There were many variations depending on what I was trying to bring forth. Elaborate dress – if my parents had seen me they would have been terrified. I sensed that the degree of difficulty should match the importance of whatever I was after. These were my deepest secrets, shared with no one and always at or near a full moon on clear nights. The rituals always included a very solemn and deep sincerity, reverence for the moon – because as a young Christian, the concept of the Goddess was entirely foreign to me. To me the moon represented a mysterious presence, a profound force and the most beautiful object in the sky.

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Fast forward four and a half decades. This allure never left me, but I had to rein in my rituals as I married – it didn’t seem something that I could share. There were still plenty of times to be with her, share silent love, reflections and comfort. The fascination of dad working the fields and animals by the moon sign, when to plant, when to wean, when to hoe the thistles so they wouldn’t come back (that’s the dark of the moon in August, BTW); it worked, the proof was there. By now the rituals had ended and were replaced by my incessant need to share her wonder with whomever was near me at the time, but only as a beautiful, wondrous, and powerful entity circling our earth; I still didn’t know her as the Goddess.

A little over a year ago I became reacquainted with a long-lost friend through Facebook. I had no idea of what lay in store until I read a post about an upcoming full moon. The post described the opportunities to ‘work’ the strength of the event to bring forth desired outcomes. I read more, I looked deeper for older posts and found so much – so many indications that there were answers for my endless questions; and I reached out. I learned what many already know, that there is a way of life here for us, one that is hidden by societal norms and traditional teaching. I was introduced to other like-minded friends who have become family to me.

With a lot of support I began reading, more and more questions developed and were answered by this new network of friends. I was experiencing profound change, I was realizing an elusive satisfaction – one that always seemed just out of reach, just around the corner….one that seemed like it may come next week, next year, but it was here and it was happening. I was beside myself. An elderly friend had once given me his advice for beginning a new venture – “When you jump in, jump in on all fours, and don’t just dangle your toes in the water”. And so I did.

Over the past year I’ve realized that I’ve missed so many signs over the years. My grandma was a very good Christian with strong beliefs about going to church. My grandpa only went to church for weddings, funerals, and sometimes at Easter. Grandma once told me that as much as she wished grandpa would go to church, she understood why he didn’t….”The outdoors is his church, he appreciates trees, flowers and nature” so it’s ok that he doesn’t come to church every Sunday.

Jumping in on all fours has been good advice for me. Immersion, commitment, being open minded to all possibilities creates an environment for accelerated learning. Or is it recognition? During these past few months there have been countless times when learn something but feel like I’ve always know that, I just wasn’t consciously aware.

These are the happiest times of my life. Every day is one of wonder and magick, everything looks brighter, and the connection with nature is so much stronger. For so many years it felt like something was missing and now its here. I’m truly blessed to have these doors opened before me, to begin this exploration of life from a fresh perspective – a perspective that’s always been there just out of sight.

 

 

A Taste of Freedom

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During the New Moon this year, as I performed my ritual, I prayed that I would experience freedom like I have never experienced before.  There was a promotion on the horizon at work…I was hopeful.  On the other hand, I had been the ear for so much anger, bitterness…the type that makes you feel as if your skin will burn off if their words touch you.

I breathed a prayer, “Please Luna…breathe freshness and newness over your people.”  As I closed, I placed the seed from my moonflower plant in a cradle of soil on my altar.  I poured water over the seed and called for the elements to nurture everything that was lying dormant in that seed and bring it to fruition in my life….hope, growth, newness, and freedom from the shell it was housed in.

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As the week progressed, I watched New Moon Blessings manifest.  The promotion took effect today, lines of communication have been better between my partner and I,  Friz seems to be better (he hurt his leg a few weeks ago)…newness was pulsing all around me.  I can feel wonderful new changes stirring inside of me.

Today at work, I talked and laughed with new clients, had a meeting with my new team, and shared my knowledge with the ones who replaced me on my old team.  The day had been good.  At 6:00pm, I was packing my briefcase to go home…feeling content with the day’s accomplishments.  My phone rang.  I looked to see that it was my mother.  She knew it was my first day in my new position, so she was probably calling to see how my day went.

“Hey there sweetie.  It’s Mama.  I just wanted to call and tell you that your cousin died today.”  Now this wasn’t just any cousin.  This was one of the cousins who sexually abused me as a child.  My breath caught in my throat.  Suddenly, all the years of counselling came flooding back.  All the fear I felt when I first told my parents it was happening and they wouldn’t believe me.  I felt my cheeks flush…actually, I could feel every ounce of blood rushing through every vein in my body.  I didn’t know how to feel.

All at once, I was confronted with every emotion I owned…still sitting in my cube.  As I sat there not sure whether to feel sadness, elation…my mentor came up behind me and asked what was wrong.  “My cousin died,” I dryly said.  “There is more than that happening, but ok.  I am here if you need me.”  He patted me on my shoulder and smiled at me.

All the way home, all I could think of was how awful my cousin was to me.  His abuse didn’t come disguised as caring, loving…his abuse was just that.  Controlling, dominating, hateful abuse.  I am able to look back now and see that it was much of his own self-loathing surfacing, but that excuses nothing.  I have seen many in the same situations not resort to physically hurting others.  I remember the constant torment he put me through.  He would hit me and trip me.  I would go home bruised from his house as he told my parents that I was so clumsy…that my feet were too big for my body and I fell into everything.

I forgave him years ago.  I did this for myself…not for him.  He never changed.  I did.  No matter how far away I was from him, there was always something looming over me.  Forgiveness came easy, forgetting…not so much.  Dealing with the emotional scars to me was so much easier than seeing the physical scars on a daily basis.  Am I a stronger person for having dealt with this?  Yes…but no child…no adult should ever have to deal with this.

When I got older, he knew better than to mess with me.  I had come into my own and would as soon stomp him than look at him…and he always seemed to be at every family gathering.  I guarded my girls like a mama wolf when he was around.  They knew never to be alone with him, but it never stopped him from acknowledging me with that shit-eating grin that made him think he got away with something.  The other cousin who took part in this was more docile as he got older…not this one.

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As I drove home, I felt sick to my stomach…angry for feeling relief that he would no longer be standing there staring over my shoulder….sad, because this piece of shit left a wife behind (thankfully he never had children)…and thrilled that no one, ever, ever could be a part of his warped existence anymore.

I ran to the woods as soon as I got home.  I completely lost it.  As my body heaved, I could feel years of tension, years of feeling like the family guard dog, years of hatred and lack of control leaving me.  As I sat in the midst of the woods with my head resting on my arm, I felt something that I have never felt before. It was Freedom…Freedom.

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Blessed Be!