Mabon’s Entrance…Hearing the Whispers of the Wind

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This weekend has been wonderful!  Waking up to temperatures below 60 degrees…breezes dancing playfully through the leaves of the trees…watching the busy-ness of the squirrels, and hearing the crows lilting caws.  It amazes me…the way that the trees and greenery responds to the slightest change in atmosphere.  I have spent much time watching the leaves this weekend.  I have noticed that many are already beginning their color change.  They are shedding the strong green of summer for the vibrant oranges and reds and yellows of Fall.

When I got up yesterday morning, it was almost chilly outside.  I let the dogs do their quick morning potty and then I scooped Friz up inside my cloak with my backpack over my arm underneath it.  When I feel the beginnings of fall stirring, I am drawn more to the trees and flora and fauna of the woods.  We made our way to that all too familiar place and settled down among the leaves.  I set up my mini altar and laughed as I watched Friz dig himself out a nest.  Such a frenzy for a little squirt….leaves and dirt flying everywhere.  We got comfortable and I lit the candles. The soft breeze was calling to me from the tops of the trees.  I could hear it making its way downward to commune with me.  I love watching Friz when a breeze comes up….he lifts his head into it, opens his nostrils and inhales as much of the energy of the air as he can.  His eyes become dream-like and he is stock-still, if only for a minute.

I should have guessed that we would be visited by a little calico kitten.  I think she has fallen in love with Friz.  I have gotten used to hearing her scamper through the leaves in the woods….an energetic little critter…only to become ragdoll-like when picked up.  While we relax in the comfort of the woods, she comes up to me and says her ‘hello’s’…rubbing against my knees and hands and anything else she can get to and then going to Friz and lying down on top of him….I hear him snort at first and then he realizes that she is not going anywhere and I hear a ‘humph’ come out of him before he lies his head back down.

I close my own eyes and raise my head to the breeze, listening to the secrets that the wind can tell me…secrets that are so much older than I am…secrets as old as those ancients who have gone on before.  I feel that I have become so much more familiar with the elements around me.  It is almost as if my ancestor’s are showing themselves more through me.  I am learning to recognize an approaching storm by the feel of the breeze, I am learning to feel the heartbeat of the earth underneath me and learning how to listen to that heartbeat and access it in my own spirit.  I am becoming closer to the fur and feather people.  Their voices resonate inside of me more every day.  I am no longer who I was when I started my journey….no longer the child I was when I started walking the path.

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I am learning to recognize the voices in my own spirit…..see the changes that are happening in it.  Wolf and Crow are no longer just familiars….they are a part of me.  I am finding as I grow older that I care less and less about what people think of me and am more concerned with who I am becoming.  As long as I listen to the spirit inside of me and the heartbeat of the earth, then I will become all that I am supposed to be.  As long as I walk in integrity, honesty and love, then I am a reflection of the Lord and Lady.  I fail so miserably at times…but that is ok.  I am not going to beat myself up for my own frailties, just as I shouldn’t attack someone else for theirs.  Yes.  I follow the path of the Morrigan….but I also follow the path of many other gods and goddesses.  I am not just one ingredient in this recipe of life….I am the whole freaking cake.  The cake is just as much a part of the banquet as the main course.

As we finished our time yesterday, I thanked the elements and spirits and Lord and Lady for all that was imparted to me.  I feel honored to be trusted with the secrets that they have shared with those before me.  We walk out of the woods and pass by the condo that Beatrice (the calico) lives in.  Her mom is standing there beaming.  “She sure does love you and that little dog.”  “Well, we sure do love her too.”  Friz and I head to our place and lie down on the sofa and drift off to sleep quickly.

We wake up slowly and I look out the window at the large tree in front of the condo.  Even the demeanor of the trees and plants and grass is changing.  The trees, who seem to stand strong and sturdy with the summertime breezes, are now bending more and whispering among themselves more with the Autumn winds approaching.  Last night, we were invited by friends to have dinner out on their balcony.  As we settled into chairs, with wine in hand to toast our friendship, we each commented on the smell and crispness of the air.  We laughed as the breezes tousled the hair of each diner…..well, except me.  They all know that I am a witch and know that during our vacation next weekend that one of the Sabbats fall on Saturday.  They asked me to tell them a bit about it, so I told them what Mabon is and what it represents.2013-09-15 12.25.50

I explained that Mabon was the Autumn Equinox…the time of year when day and night are equal.  I told them that this was the time when the goddess went from mother to crone and explained her coming death and rebirth.  I talked to them about how my birthday, Lammas, was the first harvest and that Mabon was the second harvest and that this time of year was when the veil started to thin between the worlds.  I explained to them that the meal I would be preparing for the Mabon feast (a low country boil) would incorporate the gifts of the ocean (shellfish) and also the bounty of the harvest (onions, potatoes) and even the significance of the apple dumplings that we would have for dessert that night.  I told them of my time that I would be spending at the ocean in ritual and reflection.  I invited them to join me (as long as they were respectful and open to whatever may come).  As I looked around the table at each one sipping their wine, I saw dream-like smiles playing across their faces.  More than one asked if they could be a part of the celebration and ritual.  Last night, as I drifted off to sleep,  my brain was inundated with visions of the ocean….peaceful dreams that will carry me through this week.  I have goals that I have set for myself in this change of seasons.  I am excited to watch them unfold in front of me.

It excites me to know that I carry on the workings of those who lived centuries ago…those who held the Craft just as dear to themselves as I do.  Those who walked their own path….oblivious to what others thought of them, but always aware of the needs in front of them.  The things I hunger to see flow forth from me and even out of my fingertips, I can barely comprehend.

Blessed Be!

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As the Crow Flies…

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Two weeks ago today, I went to meet up with some new friends for brunch. As our time together ended, we looked around us because we heard the noisy caws of a crow. We scanned the skies and noticed that the crow was getting closer with each caw. Finally as we looked toward the eave of the house, there perched the crow on the eave above the door. One of my friends is familiar with my writings about Mama Crow. He said, “It looks like she followed you.” There was a part of me that wanted to believe that, but there was that tiny ounce of doubt too. I chatted with him later on and found out that the crow left after I did. I have read about crows being able to recognize people’s faces. My hope is that Mama Crow has become so much more than a guide….a presence of spirit….a representative of the Morrigan….but maybe also, a friend.

I have noticed that when challenges surface in my life, Mama Crow makes herself more evident. Last week when my car battery died, Mama Crow was on the post in the apartment complex making so much noise on my lunch, the day before. Whenever a challenge seems to await me, there is Mama Crow…carrying on like no other. It seems that there is one woman in the apartment complex who just seems to have it out for me. She tends to catch me just as I am about to get in my car to go back to work from walking the dogs….she wants to rant at me because my car is parked in front of my condo and she thinks she should park there because she wants the shade tree. I stand there rolling my eyes as Mama Crow bounces from branch to branch in a nearby tree, raising a ruckus.

The Morrigan has made her presence known so much more in my life lately. I realize that she is one of the dark aspects of the goddess and I do realize that I am at the croning part of my life…I shouldn’t be shocked that she is becoming more of a presence. My life, as of late, seems that it is in a constant state of change….I realize that the Morrigan is also a goddess of transformation and change. I embrace these changes….I allow them to be a part of me….it does not mean that I don’t kick and scream the whole way.

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Worry has always been a large part of my make-up. I get this from my Mama. My mama is one that worried if the phone didn’t ring exactly four times before being picked up….she worried if we sneezed once ( had to be the flu)….she worried if we ate a tiny bit less than we normally did. I didn’t get the worry gene that badly, but I am a worrier. I am one that thinks constantly about where I stand with my job. If any little thing seems off with my animals….I worry….I let my thoughts overtake me.

Last night, I went out with friends to celebrate my birthday, which always falls on Lammas. We started the evening with dinner, then went to a piano bar afterwards. I had several drinks and was feeling good, but not enough to be drunk. We got home at about 1:00am and I headed to the woods by myself. I laid down on the ground….I could feel the coolness of the dirt beneath me. I knew I needed grounding….so much happening as of late….so many things swirling around my head…things I won’t share in a blog, but things that those closest to me will know. I missed my little blue chihuahua laying on top of me and beside me….but he was sleeping too peacefully to rouse.

I have been feeling, as of late, that something major is happening magickally. There is an energy working its way through the atmosphere. Though my heart is at peace, my mind and my spirit have been racing. I have sensed something in each of the animals. Merlin has taken to sleeping under the new altar table I placed in the bedroom. Tamira wants to be touched constantly…even if it is nose to nose. Bella craves time under the moon….she walks my partner to death at night. Friz longs for magick…..as I write this, he is not feeling like himself. He has been trembling and his tail is tucked. I have been using Reiki and healing magick on him all night. But still, in the midst of this…I know something powerful is coming2013-08-03 00.34.29

I have been out tonight walking the perimeter of the condo….using the last of the waning moon’s energy. As I walked, I sprinkled stinging nettles…uttering spells to banish negative energies…to banish negative people from stepping foot near my sanctuary…banishing sickness, hurt, confusion, fear……casting away all things that might hinder my household from thriving, from prospering….calling out the names of my friends who I know have had a rough time of it lately….banishing those things from their lives that have interfered with them living the most abundant and productive lives.

As I walked, I could feel Lady Luna looking down at me, nodding her head in agreement as I borrowed and shared her energy. As I walked toward the place where two paths joined next to the condo, I could sense the breath of the hounds of Hekate…..them sensing the nervousness and fear and worry I have over my own dog. I could feel their strength, their passion….my worry took a back seat as I reached out to see if I could feel their coats. The breeze greeted me and sent the energy they gave forward. Finally, I could sense the Morrigan….always accompanying me through the battles of day to day life. I hold the utmost respect for her, knowing that she holds the very balance of life and death in her hands. I could feel the winds shifting….I could feel my spirit shifting….I could feel my mind shifting. The time for fear and worry is past….it is time for action. We as witches have to move past circumstance….for we will be tested every moment. We as witches must live by spirit and magick.

It is a hard thing for me to see past myself most days….but I constantly get lessons from the gods and goddesses. The spirit knows what the mind and body need. Tonight, as I told a dear, dear friend about Frisbee….she told me that he has absorbed and absorbed so much lately. She reminded me about what I felt about something happening magickally with the regards to the animals. She happened to mention that maybe Friz needed grounding. An hour or so after our texting, I took Friz out for his final walk of the night. After we had walked for a few minutes and he had peed, he lay down in the dirt. I remembered what Maluna had told me, so I sat down beside him. I rubbed him as he absorbed the power from Mother Earth herself. Then I brought him in, kissed him on his head, placed my amethyst on the kennel, lit the healing candle I have….and I sat down at the desk to finish writing. He needed grounding. His spirit knew better than I did….better than he did.

Now, he sleeps…just as I will. I will dream of the things to come. The changes….the struggles…the triumphs. That is the way of the spirit.2013-08-03 16.25.56

Blessed Be

Double, Double, Toil and Trouble…

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The weather this week has been damp. Everything in Atlanta is lush and green….you would almost think you were transported to the countryside of dear old Eire…if it weren’t for the concrete and traffic and buildings and smog. Add to the damp air the beauty of the summer cold….sniffling, snorting and hacking…I refused to be knocked out by this. I had too much to accomplish. So where did I head to in the midst of all of this…yep, that’s right….the woods.

Mosquitoes have been horrible during all this rain and I have been eaten alive. So first and foremost, I let the old hedgewitch come out in me. It was time to make my concoction of a bug repellent. I combined lavender essential oil with rosemary and citronella with a base of jojoba and combined it with a melted beeswax base. Into a tin it went and I had my own version of a bug repellent/ointment. I was the best smelling creature in those woods….best of all, not one mosquito bite! I wore my cloak….the damp just did not appeal to me…and of course the folks around here think I am different anyway. Some of the neighbors embrace my witchiness and others are repelled by it….kinda like coming out all over again. As I was walking Friz one night, a big storm started brewing….a neighbor called out to me over the thunder, “Did you call this in? I laughed and told her that I didn’t do it this time.

Wednesday night, I lay in the bed hating the coughing and snorting….my head pounded and I finally drifted off to sleep. The whole night, I dreamed about being in the woods with the wolves and crows. In the dreams, the wolves were teaching me to hunt and howl….the crows were teaching me to fly. If I close my eyes now, I can still see the faces of each wolf and crow. I remembered recognizing the two leading the shenanigans as the wolf who accompanies me to the woods and Mama Crow. “Get reacquainted with my wild side?” I remember in the dream dancing with my wild friends skirting in and out of the moonlight as the night overtook us….golden eyes shining back at me from behind trees….the rustling of wings in the air.

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When I woke up Thursday morning, I already felt a hundred times better. Maybe all I needed was a little wild time and some animal medicine. Who better than wolf and crow to walk me through the healing of playing in the woods. I got Friz harnessed up and ready for a little trek out into the woods. Even though the clouds above were quite ominous and you could smell rain in the air, it was evident that we both craved this time. With a misting of rain escorting us into the wooded area beyond the condos, we both had a renewed energy about us.

I have been working on a new project lately. It is a wand made of blackthorn wood. It was something that deep in my spirit I felt compelled to do. I have worked with many woods before, but never with blackthorn. I did my research before receiving the wood from a friend in Ireland. I understood that it was a hard wood….and I mean hard. The wood itself has received many drops of my own blood. I researched the history of the ‘blackthorn wand.’ Blackthorn is a very magical sacred wood to Druids and the ancient Celts. Its magical qualities include protection, purification and the ability to repel all negative energy from both your home and your life. This wood has long been associated with the dark aspect of the Goddess, and also represents the waning and dark moon. It also has a strong significance with spirit work.

In preparation for the jaunt to the woods, I had packed the blackthorn wand and my knife into my backpack. Where better to work on this mystical wood than in the same type of element it was born into? As I shaped the wood with my knife and felt the knobs and places where sharp thorns had once been, I pondered over aspects of my own character. Yes, there are still quite a few thorns protruding from me, as well as the dents from storms that have come and gone….but I have become just as strong….just as powerful as the wood my fingers caressed. As I carve and smooth and mold this piece of wood into a magickal tool, I imbue it with all the protection, purification and power against negativity that I can push into it. I quietly laid this tool at the feet of wolf and crow watching them impart their magick into it….wisdom, cunning, and the mysticism that followed the shamanic ancients. I bundled up this treasure, put it in my backpack and picked up Friz and covered him in my cloak as we made our way back to the condo in the rain…..a soft steady rain. Every few steps a small black nose would peek from beneath the cloak just to get a whiff of the dampness.2013-07-05 11.21.27 HDR

When we got inside, I quickly changed into my pajama pants and a tshirt and Friz and I curled up on the sofa. He falls back onto me so that his stomach can be properly rubbed. He is so funny….not so much like a chihuahua, but in many aspects just like a wolf…a very small…likes-to-have-his-belly-rubbed wolf. He never questions the magick, but always relaxes into it….a lesson he is teaching me more and more with each trip to the woods or pond.

These four days I have had off have been very strong magickally for me. I have been making tinctures and tonics and wands and staves. I have felt the power and strength of bonds from miles and miles away. Today, I could have sworn I felt the arms of a dear friend or two wrap around me as I carved and sanded. I have very much felt the power of the ancients with me today. As I walked the complex this evening, I could hear the voices of the old ones in the trees. The frogs welcomed me as I moved toward the pond. I could feel the heartbeat of the earth beneath my feet.

In these hours as the sun goes to sleep, I will light a small fire in my cauldron, apply my flying ointment and journey. Where? Only my heart and spirit knows. Right now….I sit writing, watching a little blue dog asleep in the chair…my chair…the one I bought for reading but rarely get to use. He is tuckered completely out. This week has been full of magick for both of us….now is the time to rest in it. I am one contented witch.

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Blessed Be!

When the Morrigan Calls

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Ever have one of those weeks that seems to beat you like that old rug hanging over the clothesline?  Not that everything happening to you is bad….it’s just that most of everything that throws itself your way is overwhelming.  That is what this week seemed to be…..and I feel just dead tired this weekend.

The first part of the week started innocently enough…with phonecalls from home.  First, the call from Ma….telling me all the things she has dealt with this week from my nieces and my brother’s wife.  Then I get phonecalls from my brother’s wife and nieces explaining to me that my mother is being unreasonable…..there is a reason I live six hours away.

The middle part of the week came with head-butting confrontation with my partner and my roommate.  My partner was in one of those moods that would argue with everything I said.  If I said the sky was blue, he would counter it with the argument that it was more purple-ish.  If I said the grass looked greener, he would say that it looked a little more brown.  The roommate was in one of his OCD modes with regards to all the television electronics…..he insisted we could get better results if I were to call our cable service and blah blah blah.  I told them both that I would put a Ziplock bag over their heads while they slept if they didn’t shut up.

The latter part of the week was haunted by all the idiocy that the people at work could conjure.  We are short-handed….but we are supposed to cut hours?!?  We are doing better financially but we are supposed to keep payroll down?!?  We all stand there dumbfounded as more work is heaped upon us.  My blood pressure ran rampant this week.

I could feel myself drawing into myself on Wednesday.  It is in those times of turmoil that I often retreat into that one squishy confused tower that I have….myself.  It is also in those times of turmoil that I start to see more crows.  I should have guessed what the week might be like when I pulled into the parking lot at work after lunch on Monday to find a murder of crows….funny that name.  One would automatically think ‘flock,’ but instead it’s a ‘murder.’  How appropriate.

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The crows around here can sense when I need magick…when I need my battery jumped.  I saw them everywhere throughout the week.  Mama crow sat at the top of her telephone pole all week long surveying what was going on.  I got home yesterday and all you could hear throughout the condo complex was one crow call after another.  At one point, it seemed so loud that it seemed to drown out all other noises. 

I am many things, but foolish is not one of them.  I know when someone is beckoning to me.  I recognized all of the signs that Morrigan was calling my name….the only thing that could have emphasized it more would have been a crow flying into the middle of my forehead.  It was also this week that I found the remains of a dead crow not far from my condo.  I was able to harvest the skull and seven of the wing feathers…I looked toward the skies and thanked Morrigan for the gift.

When I pulled into the parking lot on Friday to the symphony of crow calls, I was pretty well whooped, but here it was the Summer Solstice.  I needed to prepare myself and have my ritual time.  Unfortunately, one thing after another kept rising up.  Before I knew it, everyone in the house was in bed….but me.  I used this opportunity to load my backpack full of candles and matches and feathers and skulls and crystals and anything else I may need for this time that awaited me.

I snuck out the door as quietly as I could.  I hurried down the sidewalks to the point where one ended at the edge of the woods.  It was if I had stepped into a different universe.  I could feel waves of energy coursing through me.  I settled down onto the floor of the woods, set my candles and crystals around me, invited the directions, the elements…..then I closed my eyes and called to the Morrigan.2012-09-17 20.43.37

Now, I know that we all have ways of seeing deity.  I am fine with that and I won’t blast you for your perceptions if you will offer me that same courtesy.  As I called to her….the smell of the incense I had burning grew stronger….it is a blend I made to bring to mind the forest and the feel of wildness.   I could sense the Morrigan approaching….my heart started to race…not out of fear, but in anticipation.  As I began to spew out all that I had dealt with for the week, I could sense something different in the air.  It felt a bit like when my mother was getting a bit perturbed at me and would stand with her arms folded, tapping her foot.  It was in this moment that I looked toward the heavens and called out, “What would you have me do?” 

I sat and listened intently.  I could hear the answers rumbling forth. “Where is all that fire power?  Where is the fight that is inside of you?  Where is that lion’s heart that was born into you on Lughnasadh?  Where is that heart of a wolf?  Instead you sit here whimpering like a pup.”  At this point, I swear I heard my grandma’s voice, “Get some fight about you, boy!  Don’t just roll over and play possum!”   I could feel a smack upside my head and I could feel it hard.  I realized that all week, I had essentially just been ‘bending over and taking it’ and it wasn’t fun at all.  It was time to let the warrior show…..to let the wolf and lion growl for a bit.  I took out my pen and paper and wrote down the things I knew I needed to do in the coming weeks.  It was time to let that heart of a warrior shine through.  Why was I allowing stupid stuff to get to me?  I had allowed circumstances and situations to take away my power.  IT WILL NOT HAPPEN!!  It was time to show a little backbone, as my grandma would say.

I finished up my ritual time and settled against a tree with my canteen of wine.  I dug my toes into the earth around me….that’s the best way in the world, in my opinion, to ground yourself.  After a time of relaxation under the moon, I packed everything up and walked quietly back to the condo.  I crept in the door, changed clothes, and crawled into bed without anyone waking up.

This morning started as most others….Friz and I taking our Saturday walk.  We walked to the pond….spent some time down there.  The whole time I could hear the voice of one crow in the background.  I knew it was Mama Crow.  I chuckled to myself, thinking of all the crow activity in my life this week.  Friz and I got closer to the condo and right in front of it, on the outside of the serpentine wall, I see Mama Crow on the ground.  She is eating what is left of something dead…I didn’t really feel like investigating.  She looked up at me….did not blink once.  Friz was amazed…he has never stood that still.  In that moment, I could feel her energy…that of a survivor…that of a fighter.  I thanked her.  She went right back to eating and Friz and I went inside.  My mind was racing.  Nothing like being hand-fed the power of the crow so early in the morning.2013-06-22 21.32.18

Blessed Be!

The Magick of Listening

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I have found myself in a myriad of emotions this week. Anger, elation, melancholy, and apathy. I started the week the way it normally starts….work. It seems that somedays, everything there….every person can push every button I have and summon up such a rage inside me, that each time it rises, is the worst I have felt. Then there is the melancholy that comes sometimes with just dealing with everyday issues….bills coming due, little past remembrances that can creep in. Apathy….now I will admit, I do not feel this very often. I am normally a raging heap of emotions….a large rubberband ball of raw emotion….but this week, I was to the point that I disconnected so quickly (and it was quite evident, by the way) that people asked if I was still in this large gelatinous form I call a body. Of course, there is my favorite of all these emotions…..elation. The uncontained euphoria of hearing that my partner had come through his ear surgery beautifully and that the surgeon was optimistic that he would regain most of his hearing.

Now, this week was submersed in the details of the ear surgery. There was the anticipation of the positive results, but there was also the dread that the hearing would not improve and that total deafness in that ear would be the end result. We talked….a lot. We talked about possibilities and fears and we made promises and laughed about how silly we were being too.

All of this emotion surrounding one of the five senses made my brain go into overdrive. What would I be without one of those senses? Where would I have to make adjustments? How good of a listener am I, really?

Today was the first full day after the surgery. I spent the rest of yesterday worrying about whether he would bend over wrong….strain….move the wrong way….do something that would destroy the positive results forever. He was drugged up and feeling pretty good, so he really didn’t give a rip. I constantly asked him, “What does it sound like? How does it feel?” Questions and Loritabs don’t really mix well. I was told to stop and let him sleep.

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This morning, I woke up tired. I tossed and turned all night long listening for any signs of pain or discomfort. Of course, at an especially early hour, I hear whines coming from the kennel at the foot of the bed. The dogs want to be fed and walked. Bella was content with eating, pooping and then going right back to sleep. Friz on the other hand expected more. It was a comfortable temperature out, the sun was shining. He was pulling me with all the force a chihuahua could muster toward the pond.

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Friz and I settled in beside the old oak tree. I closed my eyes and for the first time in a long time…..I just listened. I could hear my breath coming in shorter bursts at first because of the exertion of the walk. Then I listened as it lengthened….became softer, easier, calmer. I listened to Friz’ panting. Heavy at first….then gently relaxing. I could hear him twisting his body to fit my lap….could hear his breathing become heavier and then dissolve into soft snores.

I heard a familiar sound approaching us from the wooded area behind us. It was a soft padding catching the leaves that were left from fall and winter and the taller grasses as it came closer. I could hear a loud purr roar forth from an old fae cat that hadn’t seen us in what seemed like ages. I listened as he cuddled into Friz and the sound of a small motorboat was roaring forth from his insides. I heard so many sounds around me that I would typically ignore just because it didn’t directly effect me. There were sounds that made my imagination dance. I just knew I could hear the fae playing hide and seek around me…..the flit of wings and tiny little giggles.

My brain raced into technicolor visions of creatures that I have longed to see and look eyeball to eyeball with. Every splash I heard in the pond water was not just that boring old bullfrog that I have seen time and again….but a beautiful mermaid or merman splashing about. That breeze that I could hear swooshing around my ears was the aftermath of a low-flying dragon. Oh the joy that was stirred up in me…..just from listening harder than I have ever listened before.

As I sat there with visions and sounds rushing around me, I quieted my spirit enough to whisper, “Lord and Lady, take this time, in my silence to teach me.” I listened harder. If my ears could have bled from the strain of listening, this would be that time. What was I waiting to hear? A thunder clap? The roar of a hurricane? A tidal wave? It must be something that is going to be huge….ginormous….something fantastical! The longer I sat there, though, the quieter it seemed to get. The wind had become still. The splashing had stopped. My spirit, however, did quicken. I felt an excitement…a wonderful stirring. And then, it was like I heard a whisper. It was a whisper that seemed to echo with the divine masculine and the divine feminine. “In your stillness, in your silence, you are learning. You are learning of the kisses and caresses of the wind. You are learning of the laughter of the water. You are learning of the joy and warmth of fire through the sun….but most importantly, you are learning to hear the heartbeat of mother earth. It is in your connection with each of these elements that you learn from and connect deeper to the Lord and Lady. Our spirit becomes a part of your spirit. You know us as well as you know yourself.”

2012-08-14 19.28.49

I breathed in deeply. It was almost as if I was taking in my first breath. Not only did my hearing seem sharper…..but every sense seemed more alive and hyper-sensitive. I inhaled deep and caught a faint scent of jasmine penetrate my nostils. I shifted my weight and it was as if every grassblade underneath me became evident….nature’s carpet. It was almost as if I could taste the wind on my tongue. Finally as I opened my eyes, I could see everything glowing in the light of the sunshine.

The one thing I have learned about myself over the years is that I can be a little thick…not the brightest crayon in the box. Nature has found a way to show me the things I miss from time to time. I have often told my friends that Friz is one of those dogs that ‘doesn’t have the sense to come in out of the rain.’ Now I am beginning to think that I was the one all along with no sense. When I watch that little dog in a rainstorm, he turns his little nose into the air and sniffs just as hard and fast as he can sniff. He doesn’t stop to worry about the fact that he is getting wet. He is living for that moment….that second…and with that moment comes all the smells that rain brings out.

Today we had a rainstorm. Of course, Friz had to go out at that exact moment. The only difference was that this time, I was standing right there beside him…nose raised in the air, sniffing as hard and fast as I could. It smelled fresh….it smelled new…..just like another new beginning.

Blessed be!!