The Long Way Home

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The past two weeks seem to be the longest two weeks ever.  Through the pandemic, the only places I have been are the grocery store, the woods, and hiking.  I haven’t been to North Carolina to visit my family since Christmas of 2019.  Yes, I talk to my mama every day or so…I text my nieces almost daily…I video chat with the babies every other week…but it just isn’t the same.  Hugs and kisses over video leave you feeling a little lackluster.

During this time of separation, I have been trying to be productive.  I have been studying, creating, building, searching.  One of the things I decided to try was Ancestry.com. I have been able to trace one side of my dad’s family back to the 1500’s in Nairn, Scotland.  Our surname has evolved many times over the years…centuries.  We have been Gaddy…then further back, Getty…the back further, Gettie…then before that, Goudie…and prior to that Gowdie.  I have traced my lineage back to an Isobel Gowdie….now whether or not that is the one and only Witch of Scotland, who knows.  It is a nice thought though.  It is nice to have a history.

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I have been studying a book called, “Scottish Witchcraft” by Barbara Margaret Meiklejohn-Free.  I have been pouring through the pages absorbing every morsel.  One area of the book speaks to ancestral magic.  She addresses the fact that there are blood ancestors (those you know) and unknown ancestors.  She speaks of finding her own connection to unknown ancestors and the journey that they led her through.  I have loved building a new ancestral altar separate from the one that I have for my blood ancestors.  It is an altar that holds the breath of Scotland and the Welsh countryside close.

During the full Strawberry moon and eclipse last night, I called upon those ancestors.  I could feel the power surging…I could hear their ancient voices on the wind as I stilled myself and prepared for what they wanted to teach me.  It was like I could feel myself walking the Scottish landscape and could sense them walking with me.  I could see the many standing stones as we weaved in and out…I could hear the lilt of their voices whispering ancient secrets.

 

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There is something to be said about walking the worlds with those whose spirits resonate with your own.  There is a familiarity and a magical feeling just knowing that you are part of the same clan, so to speak, but on completely different planes.

I have also been trying to go to the woods more.  There is something in me that craves that connection with nature.  Rituals under the patio or in the courtyard don’t hold the same power as sitting under a tree listening to the sounds around me with a small sand-filled cauldron with a candle burning and natural elements scattered around.  I have become a hoarder of bark, walnut casings, sticks, and rocks.  If it calls to me, it stays with me.

Lately, when I visit the woods in the early morning or close to dusk, I am visited by a young fox, a squirrel, and a crow.  The fox won’t ever get any closer than 20 or so feet away.  He’s always watching, but still seems comfortable enough to lie down where he is.  It’s almost as if he wants to be a part of the magic happening.  The squirrel on the other hand likes to play.  He or she is a mischievous little creature who seems to enjoy throwing black walnut hulls at me as I do my workings.  The crow, who I like to think is Mama crow, sits on perched in a tree about 10 feet away.  I can hear her cawing and of course, I answer back.  We are an odd group, but there is a camaraderie there.  A knowing that none in our circle is there to harm the other or interfere in the business of the other.  I am not one who feels the need to pursue the animals or call to them like pets.  If they speak, I answer back.

It has been important for me as of late to create many of my own tools.  I needed something that would make transport easy, so I created a potions/incense/tool case. It holds my favorite incenses, candles, snips, my mini Book of Shadows, my mandrake root, and a small athame…all the essentials.

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I have found that in the makings and workings as of late, that the feelings and needs that home and family provide are never that far away.  Through the ancestral workings, I have been introduced to the spirits of family that I never thought to engage before.  Being away from my homeplace for so many years, I have learned that home isn’t necessarily a building or a piece of land.  It is the feelings and spirit that you carry with you in every moment.  In every memory…in every working…I am more at home than I ever have been.

I guess what I took the long way around to tell you is:  Don’t be afraid of the unknown.  Don’t look at solitude as loneliness.  Utilize all that is within you and around you and you will never be that far away from the magic and purpose you are called to be a part of.

Blessed Be.

 

Don’t Make Eye Contact

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I remember growing up around my mom…she lived in a state of constant worry and a state of constant fear.  She moved away from it more as we grew older, but I remember when we were younger how afraid she was of everything.  She was afraid of thunder.  She was afraid of bugs.  She was afraid that we would wander too far from the house.  She was afraid.

The thing about people who live in fear is that many times that fear tries to transfer to the people that live with them.  The one phrase that I remember my mom using constantly was, “Don’t make eye contact.”  Now there were particular people or groups of people this was directed toward…strangers, in particular, but also those who others categorized as mentally challenged…homeless people and stray animals.AP_romanian_stray_dogs_jef_130913_16x9_992

 

My mom never felt comfortable around any of those things.  It makes me wonder what kind of life my mom had growing up….so much fear.  As you can imagine, many of my mom’s fears began to take root in my heart as I grew up surrounded by them.  I remember a group of mentally challenged teens who attended my elementary school….I would see them coming and I could feel my whole body go rigid.  I would silently pray that they would stay far from me.  I remember as a youngster walking toward a stray dog that came into our yard and hearing my mother screech from the front porch, “Don’t touch that dog! It might have the mange!”  Well, at that time, I didn’t know what ‘the mange’ was, but I was sure I didn’t want it.  So I ran. It was then that I started nurturing the beginnings of a fear of dogs.  Finally, I remember my mother talking about ‘Crazy Mary’ the local homeless woman.  My mother had heard stories of how Mary went crazy because she had always wanted children.  When she miscarried after her first and only pregnancy, it drove her to the depths of insanity and she walked the streets looking for a child to call her own.

I carried each of these fears with me through grade school, high school and even part of college.  When I passed the homeless…my mother’s voice would ring clear, “Don’t make eye contact.”  When I worked at a grocery chain and the adults from the local group home came in to shop, I made a bee-line for the stock room with my mother’s voice ringing in my ears, “Don’t make eye contact.”  When I met my friend Susan who worked with rescue animals and finally saw what ‘the mange’ looked like, my mother’s words haunted me, “Don’t make eye contact.”

I have never been the type of person who wanted to be limited by anything, most of all, myself…so I made it a point to put myself into situations where I had to address those fears.  The first fear I addressed was the fear of those that others called mentally challenged.  When I was in bible school in Knoxville, TN back in the days of Moses, I had to work to be able to afford school.  I worked full time evenings in a bookstore, but on weekends I worked at a facility for adults with learning, mental and physical challenges.

My first five minutes in that facility were pure hell for me.  I broke out in cold sweats and shook continually.  My biggest fear was that someone would actually talk to me.  My first duties were to help clean a fellow up after his meal.  He laughed and smiled at me the whole time.  It made me feel ashamed of the fear I had lived with for so many years.  I looked in his eyes and I saw joy…pure elation that someone was taking the time to help him.  He smiled even bigger.  I could feel a tear loose itself from my eye and I felt his hand wipe at my face.  He told me, “No cry….happy…happy.”  He laughed out loud and I joined him.

I turned around and there was a woman in her forties standing almost close enough to me to be my shadow.  “I love you!”  The worker with me told me quietly, “That’s her thing.  She loves everybody.  She will tell you 100 times in a few hours.” I smiled at her.  “I love you!” I was perplexed.  I leaned in and said, “I love you too.”  She looked me eye to eye and quietly whispered, “For real?”  I whispered back, “Yes, for real.”  She smiled from ear to ear.  That was the only time she asked me that night…but we made it a point to say it once a day each time we saw each other.

I often find it amazing…the places and situations I have found myself in.  This young fellow who was scared to death of getting ‘the mange’ moved to Atlanta and the only job he could find was a job at a veterinary clinic.  I learned all about mange and what would treat it.  I learned about animal handling and treatment.  I could do the job in my sleep. Five years into the job, the opportunity came for me to work with a mobile vet.  We went from house to house treating and working with pets and then one of her pets became gravely ill.  There was fluid on the heart and it would only get worse.  She was encouraged to bring him in and ‘put him to sleep’ when it was too much of a struggle for him.  Instead, she decided that it would need to happen at home surrounded by his loved ones.  She asked if I would do it for her.  I looked into that sweet dogs eyes as I introduced the needle into his vein.  I watched through tears as the spirit of life swept from him and I laid his head on his paws.

This morning I had volunteered to go with a work group to deliver clothing to the homeless.  Collections had been made for weeks and we stood in groups next to tables full of coats and sweatshirts and pants separated by size.2015-02-28 11.29.07

My first encounter with the homeless was in New York City in 1985.  I was being shown around the city by a roommate who had been living there six months longer than I had.  I was informed that you didn’t touch the pigeons and you didn’t make eye contact with the homeless. “They are like rats (the pigeons and the homeless).  You can’t be nice to them…they follow you everywhere.”

Years later, when I was working in the ministry, I  was asked to be a part of a homeless ministry who cooked breakfast and served it underneath the bridge in Charlotte, NC.  I got to know and became friends with many of the people who gathered under that bridge to eat and hear me sing and teach. As I talked to one fellow, I found out that he was my age and he had missed one paycheck.  Not so different from me after all….one paycheck.

This morning as I foraged through stacks on tables and shifted clothes.  I hear some of the others talking to people coming through the line.  I hear a familiar laugh and a scruffy bark.  I turn around and I make eye contact with the Green Wizard.  He is there in need of a sweatshirt and a blanket.  I smile at him and he smiles back.  I introduce him to those around me as my friend…not as ‘a homeless person I know.’eyes

 

It’s funny…over the years…the most powerful magick I have ever found were in the things of which my mother was most afraid.  I found magick in the eyes of those whose mind danced differently than my own…I found magick in the eyes of animals whose hearts were far purer than my own…I found magick in the eyes of those who use the earth as their pillow and the stars as their nightlight.  I am far richer for it.

Blessed Be!

Why Are People So Afraid of the Dark?

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This past week was a thought invoking week.  My brain has been mulling over so many things.  One of those things was the result of a wonderful new friend’s post on the Weathered Wiseman Facebook page.  She had simply posted, “I am thoroughly enjoying your blog!!  I found you on The Pagan Black Book.”  I responded by telling her that I couldn’t be more thrilled to hear this and I offered her blessings upon blessings.  Later in the comments, someone asked, “Are there dark blessings?  I didn’t know that.”  I didn’t think anything about the comment.  My response was, “Everything is a mix of dark and light.  It’s all about finding balance.  I don’t just work with the Dark Goddess.  I also work with Brigid, Cerridwen, Cernunnos…I always try to work in blessings.”

This made thoughts fly through my mind like snow flurries.  Why are people so afraid of the dark?  For that matter, why are they afraid of anything that they perceive  as dark?  Is it because the darkness is so mysterious?  Is it because darkness is seen as unpredictable?  In light, you can see everything that approaches you.  In darkness, you may hear what is coming, but you may not see it right away.

This morning I experienced the truth in that last statement.  Friz and I had gone to the woods early…before the sun came up.  It was dark.  The trees were very stark looking standing in front of me.  Add to this, the fact that I have horrible vision in the dark anyway.  I picked Friz up as a safety precaution.  I didn’t so much want to carelessly step on my dog.  We sat down next to one of the trees and I leaned back and closed my eyes.  As I sat there resting, I heard a rustling.  I shrugged it off.  I figured it was a cat, possum, a ground bird…everything that didn’t threaten or make me nervous.  I continued to sit there with my head back and my eyes closed.  I felt a hand on my shoulder.  I yelled.  My trusty guard dog barked after the fact because he recognized the scent attached to the hand.  It was only after I composed myself that I realized that I had picked Friz up and run quite a few feet.

As I composed myself, I realized that the Green Wizard and his ‘not such a puppy anymore’ pup was standing in front of me.  As I stood there breathing heavily, he apologized for scaring me…explaining that he thought that I had heard him.  I told him I did, but passed it off as being noise from an animal.  He leaned down and stroked Boomer and laughed saying that I was half right.

We settled down and I reached into my backpack and handed him a couple of sandwich bags that I had filled with biscuits.  I had intended to feed the birds and animals with them, but I would bring more back later and the Green Wizard looked like he needed them more at the moment.  I pulled my black candles out of the backpack along with my crow skull (I longed for simplicity this morning and what better for the dark part of the year and the dark moon).  As I lit the candles, the Green Wizard asked me, “Why black?” I explained to him that black was for protection and banishing any negative energies.  I told him that the crow skull was a representative of the Dark Goddess, the Morrigan.

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As we talked about the different attributes of the Morrigan, I explained that many people are afraid of her and that she is seen as a dark, harsh, killing force.  He smiled crookedly and said that people have a way of misconstruing things that don’t make sense to them.  He agreed that it was fear of the unknown.  I asked him if he saw me as a dark wizard.  He laughed out loud and told me that I was the farthest thing from it. He said that if nothing else, I was a very passionate wizard with very strong beliefs and convictions.  He went on to say that my practices fall back to the ways of the ancients as far as the herbs and roots I use and that the skulls and bones I use may make folks wonder, but that the honor I give to the animals and the protection and healing magick that I use would give evidence to the true nature of my heart.

I started to ponder the word ‘passionate.’  When we think of passion, we often think of something mysterious and brooding.  Does passion come from that ‘feel-good, love and light’ part of us?  No. It doesn’t.  Passion comes from a part of us that stirs deep inside of us…it is that part of our energy that can be unpredictable and sometimes untouchable.   Our passion tends to be something that we guard closely.  It is something that we don’t give away or show readily.  It comes from that hidden part of us.  If you were to ask someone what their passion is….first, they will hem and haw….then they will nervously giggle…then they will say quietly, “No….it’s stupid.”  We are leery of sharing that deep, hidden part of us with anyone.2014-11-22 15.15.46

 

I know that some people refer to this part of themselves as their ‘shadow-self.’ I remember a conversation some years back with a friend of mine.  He was just beginning to delve into that darker part of himself.  He was starting to see himself as he truly is…a mixture of light and dark.  It was after this soul journey that his passion became more a part of his everyday life and his business began to flourish.

Searching for your passion is not for the faint of heart…nor is it for the brainless.  Wars have been fought because of passion.  Men have died at the end of a sword controlled by passion.  Relationships have thrived and been broken to pieces because of passion.  On the other side of the coin, though, new world’s have been discovered because of passion. Lives have been saved because of passion.

A dark wizard?  No, I am definitely a combination of the two.  My passion?  Magick.  Completely and fully….I love watching energies swirl around me.  I thrive on seeing what the elements are capable of.  It gives me chills when I experience the Gods and Goddesses.  Am I afraid of my dark side?  Oh no….I have learned to embrace it and walk fully empowered by it and that part of me that calls to the light.

Here is a spell I concocted to stir that passion in all of us.  All you need is some hot red pepper jelly, some cream cheese and crackers.

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I start by taking out two of the crackers, spreading them with the cream cheese (a nice big dollop)….and then heaping that over with a nice spoonful of spicy hot red pepper jelly.  As they sit in front of me, I envision that part of me that I wish to access…that passion that I have kept hidden for so long:

Both hot and sweet, I call to you.

Stir in me what I’m to do.

Awaken passion deep inside…

No more to slumber or to hide.

Dark and Light I now embrace,

And with myself come face to face.

Heat and cool now intertwine.

A balanced life, now is mine.

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Blessed Be!

Transitioning Back Into the Magick Within Us

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Tonight is two nights after Samhain.  This year, Samhain brought in cold and howling winds and rain.  As I communed with my ancestors, I listened intently as the wind hammered against the side of the condo.  The trees whipped back and forth.  One could feel the cold prying its fingers in through the window sills.  It reminded me of an old quote from Mary Poppins,

Winds from the East…Mist coming in

Like something’s a brewing, about to begin

Can’t put my finger on what lies in store…

But I feel what’s to happen, all happened before!

In the new year that is coming upon us, it seems that my theme is to be slowing down.  I am one of those people who, if not careful, will allow myself to become a frenzy of work and home life and everything else in between.  Most of my life is lived at full tilt…just like most other people.  Ever have those weeks when magick can become an afterthought?

I love the quote at the start of the blog.  We let life on a daily basis push magick away from us.  We let circumstances and emotions push the magick all the way to the back of our minds.  Then when everything else seems exhausted, we think, “Oh yeah, I am a witch.”  Shall I raise my hands, wave them about and scream ‘Guilty’ at the top of my lungs?

Last week, I spent the majority of my time nursing a sprained ankle.  Last night, I ended up in the emergency room because when I drifted off to sleep, moments later I would awaken myself gasping for air.  I amaze myself sometimes.  I am the first to send healing, Reiki, or any other magick to anyone else…but I tend to lose my brain and any magickal abilities when it comes to myself.  Thinking back on it…if I had just stopped, calmed myself and done some Reiki and magick combined, I would have been fine.

Well, the diagnosis came back just as me and the doctor suspected.  I am fat.  I am sedentary.  I don’t exercise enough.  His solution?  Lose weight.  Exercise…walk.  Get outside more.  I laughed out loud.  My medically, scientific minded doctor was telling this nature-loving witch that he needs to be outside more.  He asked if I had a dog that I could take on long walks in the brisker fall air.  I told him I did and that we normally take short morning walks.  He asked my habits.  After reluctantly admitting that I am mostly a couch potato, my doctor looked at me, laughed out loud and said matter-of-factly, “You have become far to domesticated.”

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Domesticated?  I became a bit indignant.  I have always considered myself a bit of a wild man.  I am not like the ones in the earlier quote.  I am not domesticated.  After I pushed past my hurt feelings, I started thinking to myself…”When was the last time you ran through the woods or outside?  When is the last time you were able without gasping for air?  When is the last time you let a youthful sparkle shine from your eyes?  When was the last time that child-like wonder escaped from you with the sharp intake of breath that comes from seeing magick happen up close and personal?”

After arriving back home, I sat and thought about a game plan.  The doctor and I agreed that organic, healthy eating habits would be best.  Lean proteins, lots of green leafy veggies and plenty of fruits and nuts would help to get my body functioning more normally.  Exercise…such an ugly word.  Thankfully we are heading into the darker months of the year…this time of year is an energizer for me.  I function better in briskness and cool.  Mine and Friz’s walks are going to have to become longer….he will be more than happy.  He pulls constantly when we walk…as if he knows that I need to expend more energy…as if urging me to move more.

My dear friend Cindy posted a photo on her Facebook page.  This photo said, “November s the month of transformation.  It is time to prepare for the coming winter and a time to strengthen communication.”  My preparation is to be more brisk walks….music that inspires magick penetrating my headphones…a chihuahua for motivation…and healthy, delicious foods.  It is time for re-teaching.  It is time to listen to the heart of the Morrigan…there is a battle waging inside me now.  It is up to me.  I want to encourage that wild part of my spirit to surface…that heart of wolf who runs with the wind…that heart of crow who flies higher and higher.  2014-11-02 15.33.57

As the earth goes to sleep, it is my time to listen to my body, my heart and my spirit.  I sat in the woods this morning huddled in my cloak, Friz tucked underneath with my personal sized Book of Shadows in my hands (it is kind of like my ‘spells on the go’ book).  I am sitting there trying to write a spell to accomplish what I want accomplished.  Maybe it was writer’s block…maybe I was thinking too hard.  I decided to take a hint from my most magickal little blue dog.  I raised my head, nose to the wind.  I could smell the leaves around me….the cold tickled my nose.  It was exhilarating!

Leaves swirl around me with abandoned delight…

My breath hangs in front of me here in my sight.

As the earth darkens around me, seeds of growth sown

New beginnings, new disciplines, a new heart will be shown.

Magickal workings encompass me round…

I listen and act so that blessings abound.

My body and mind and my spirit align…

Victory, health and prosperity are mine.

By word and action and now by deed,

As I will, so mote it be.

As if on cue, I hear Mama Crow behind me.  I look up and there she sits, looking down at me.  She offers that guidance I seek.  She flies.   Reminding me that I need to always remember to do the same.  Friz and I head back home, we wrap ourselves in a blanket on the sofa and ‘rest our eyes.’

Later today I read my dear Maluna’s posting:

Man changes our clocks.  Animals and some of us listen to our bodies….never mind human reasoning…it is what it is….Moon up…leaves down…I look at the positive….more time to see and spend with the silver globe of light….Full moon this week….work for healings, positive change for some….with the swirl of the holidays upon us…the temptations of wondrous delicacies…it’s time to take charge of your body…your eating habits….. bundle up and get outside…walk, yoga, dance…clean house…(yes it burns calories)….incorporate fruits and veggies in your diet of comfort food…and yesssss we all want the hearty, heavy creamy stuff….just balance with nutrition also. Excellent few days to put this program into motion…many depend on you…be healthy, for yourself…and those who love you! Now….go dance under that glorious moon…she’ll always dance along with you! BB

 

So here we go!  Blessed Be!

 

 

 

 

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Riding Out the Storm

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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.

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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!

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Corn-fed Crows and Resurrection from Rubble

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This afternoon, my partner and I drove past my dream home.  Yes, the picture above is that house.  I have driven by this house at least once a week for the ten years I have lived in Atlanta.  Up until now, it has remained there…in a certain state of disrepair.  For some reason, I thought it always would be there.  Nothing ever seemed to change.

I would stop by on a Saturday here and there to sneak peeks through the window.  You could see where the kitchen had been gutted.  There were leaves in the fireplace.  The small wooden porch in the back that had been enclosed was starting to crumble.  This was a house, that just by looking at it, you could tell it had a story to tell.

Today, when we drove by that crumbling little cottage that I had so many times, in my mind, refurbished and resurrected…we saw a ‘For Sale’ sign.  Not just a sign that noted that my little gray cottage was for sale, but that it was under contract.  I quickly texted my landlord to see what was happening.  He asked if I wanted to take a look inside of it, and of course, I jumped at the opportunity.

As we walked through each room, I could feel wonderful energy throughout the house.  The fireplace that, in my minds eye, I could see generations of families laughing in front of….the dining room, where I could visualize birthday parties and holiday meals…the attic, which was so huge and spacious and full of marvelous energy.  We walked through that gutted kitchen and I could feel the energy swirling around as decades before, meals had been prepared and canning jars lined the counters.SHORPY_8b30802a.preview

I have been in old houses where you could feel turmoil and anger….not this house.  This house had been a much loved home.  My landlord laid out the story of a little old man who had held onto his home….refused to sell it as long as he was alive.  A man, who fought with all he had to keep this little gray cottage, even in its disrepair, until the day he died just a little over a week ago.

As I walked up the permanent attic stairs, I could feel something surge through me.  This would have been my workshop of witchery.  Something that would well outshine what those girls from “Charmed” had.  I could visualize my book of shadows on a stand in the middle of a pentagram painted onto the floor.  I could see the walls lined with bookshelves filled with all of my ‘witchy’ books and all manner of herbs and magickal accoutrements.

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As we finished our walk-through, my landlord broke the news to me.  Not only was the house under contract, but the house was being torn down.  It was bought for the land and the promise of a brand new, generic looking, cookie cutter monstrosity being plopped down over the space where this wonderful cottage stood.  I went into mourning for the rest of the afternoon…until a beautiful friend suggested harvesting some bricks (with the new owner’s permission) for garden work…I could also use it to make brick dust.

Of course, I can see how everything in life orders itself.  This morning, Friz and I decided to walk a path that we haven’t traveled in a while.  We headed out toward the pond. As we got closer, Friz’s tail starts rotating wildly.  If it could have propelled him hard enough, he would have left the ground.  I looked up and in the distance saw a familiar mutt loping toward us.  Friz couldn’t stand it….he wanted to play.  I have to admit, too, that my heart skipped a beat or two in excitement.  I questioningly called out, “Calliope?”  The dogs tongue lolled out of her mouth and she ran harder toward us.  When she reached us, she danced around my legs and Friz danced along with her.

We walked along the path that had been created by so many of mine and Friz’s journeys before.  As we arrived at the edge of the pond, we moved closer to the trees that dotted the landscape.  Leaning against the one that Friz and I normally shared was the Green Wizard.  He was reaching into his pocket pulling out handfuls of something and throwing it toward a murder of crows scavenging the grass.  As I got closer, he stopped what he was doing and stood to his feet.  A smile came to his face as he said, “Good morning, Weathered Wiseman.”  I smiled and chuckled, “Good morning, Green Wizard.”

I explained to him that I wasn’t sure that I would ever be seeing him again.  He looked at me with a seriousness about himself and told me that he had thought the same thing, but had felt that our time together was not quite finished.  We both sat down in the grass….the talk came so easy…as if we had known each other for centuries.  We talked of the coming Blood Moon and the energy that would be available at that time.  We talked about the closeness of Beltane and our mutual love for the sleek black gravelly voiced birds that surrounded us.  We laughed and talked about our love for the fur people and feathered ones and any other manner of critter.qri-17a

 

I asked him what he had been feeding the crows.  He pulled his hand out of his pocket and opened it to reveal many golden kernels of corn.  I asked him where he had gotten it.  He told me that there was a huge pile of it under a few trees a ways back….then I remembered the neighbor who likes to feed the squirrels.  More than once, I have seen Friz look up at me with yellow crumbs around his mouth from foraging and finding her huge piles of corn….and of course, the plethora of poop that followed.  I was amazed at the number of crows withing walking distance of us.  They were having the most wonderful time.  They were cawing back and forth…moving non-stop.

The Green Wizard turned to me again and with a more-than-serious face asked, “Why aren’t you afraid of me?  Why don’t you rush in another direction when you see me…the way your neighbors do?”  I answered truthfully, “I am not threatened by you.  I see nothing to fear.  I feel a kinship….and my dog likes you.”  Right then, as if on cue, Friz stretches and pushes his back feet against the Green Wizard.  He laughed and told me that was the reason he trusted me….his dog liked me.  I told him that I learned a long time ago not to judge based on differences.

I was actually able to look into his eyes at that moment.  There, staring back at me through damage inflicted by the elements, was a softness.  Such kindness and truth like I had never seen, looked right into my spirit.  I don’t give into that type of vulnerability often.  I keep myself shielded until someone proves their authenticity to me.

He smiled and said to me, “Weathered Wiseman, the coming moon brings so much to you.  You need to take your time with her.  Woo her. Sit with her and talk to her.  She is the key to all that you have set into motion.”  I sat there with my mouth gaped open.   I am amazed that such wisdom comes out of someone so young.  I am then reminded that even though he is young, he has been seasoned well by wind, water, earth and the fire of the sun.  7521dfb1e888171f287d63e396bc5b9f-d5kdtom

It was then that he said something to me that I knew beyond knowing.  He told me that we had known each other in other lives.  We had been connected many times before and we would be connected many times more.  I know where the connection lies and I feel he does too, but we quietly sit and enjoy the sounds of the dogs snoring and grunting.  He leans his head back to rest and I do the same.  All I can think is that this is a man who seems to have nothing other than his dog….but yet, not once has he ever asked me for anything.  I get up and tell him that Friz and I will be right back.  I go to the condo and make an egg and cheese sandwich with a travel mug of milk.  I bag up a big portion of Friz’s kibble for Calliope.

I walk back down to the pond and he is standing up.  I hand him the sandwich and he thanks me.  He eats it slowly….savoring every bite.  The reaction I didn’t expect was the one I got when I handed him the dog food.  He choked on the words as he thanked me and scooped his hand into the bag.  He talked to Calliope sweetly and tenderly as he fed her from his hand.  She, too, seemed to savor every bite.

We said our good-byes.  I don’t know if today is the last time we see each other in this life or whether I will see him again next week.  All I know is that I have learned valuable lessons in perception this week.

Never look at anything the way those around you expect you to.  Always look upon someone or something with a heart of magick, vulnerability, truth and love.  It is in those moments that you will see that person or thing for what it truly is.

Today…I am awe-struck.  I am humbled.  I have possibly spent time with the greatest wizard in the world.  He lives his life simply and with great humility and love.  I have witnessed some of the most powerful magick that exists.

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When You Meet the Wizard, Your Whole Life Will Change…

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It seemed, when I was small, that I constantly got into trouble for who I talked to.  The words meander through my brain now as I write..my dad would constantly warn me, “Don’t spend your time talking out loud to the animals.  People will think you are odd.”  I never had a sense of not being able to talk to the animals…they always talked back to me.

Then there was the local homeless person, ‘Crazy Mary.’  She wandered the streets of my home town dressed in every stitch of clothes that she owned with a shopping cart she had ‘borrowed’ from Gamble’s grocery.  She was always kept in supply, by that same grocer, of the one snack that she adored…mustard covered sardines.  Ma told me a few years back that my dad had taken me downtown (ten stores and a courthouse) one Saturday.  We were walking along and my dad ran into an old friend of the family.  After their conversation, they looked around for me and I was nowhere to be found.  They finally found me sitting on the covered stoop next to the movie theater laughing out loud and sharing a tin of mustard covered sardines with ‘Crazy Mary.’  I was probably five….I knew no fear then, but in later years was taught to fear her just because she was different.

I think that is where my heart for abandoned people and animals started.  I have never understood categorizing someone or something as having no worth.  Surely there was something important enough about the essence of the spirit that caused that person or animal to come into being.  I am scared to death of an opossum, but that doesn’t mean it has no purpose.

Monday of last week here in Atlanta was so pleasant.  It was so spring-like in the evening.  I came home to the roomie having every window open and the inside of the house smelled fresh….like the cave-like conditions of winter had been pushed out the windows.  The plague of ‘green snow’ had not fully hit, so it seemed like a good evening to take Friz for a walk.

We walked our usual path toward the woods.  It seemed like the perfect evening to just lie down under the canopy of branches and leaves that the woods had erupted into overnight.  I talked to Friz every step of the way and he listened intently.  As we rounded one of the corners of the complex over close to where we scoot off the pathway, I looked up and sitting on a column of bricks was a young man of about 28 or so with a medium sized mutt at his feet.  He was dressed in a brown shirt with brown pants and a green hooded cloak.  Everything he wore had a patina to it…you could tell that they had been well-worn.  As I stood there tracing his form from head to toe, I noticed that the shoes he wore were black converse that had seen better days.  The soles were falling off and you could see his dirty socks inside.

I trust my dog completely when it comes to the nature of other people and animals, so I looked down at Friz to see if he was giving me any sign of alert.  He looked straight at the young man and his dog with his tongue out and his tail wagging…so I took this as my cue to move forward.

As we moved closer, the young man looked up at me underneath the hood and spoke softly, “She won’t bite.  She is really gentle.” We moved even closer.  Friz initiated the dog handshake and after they had both gotten a nostril full, Friz licked the gentle dog on his muzzle.  The docile animal turned to Friz and only licked back.  I leaned over and gave the dog a scratch behind the ear and he leaned in sweetly.  The young man pulled the hood away from his face and introduced himself to me.  “They call me the Green Wizard and this is my dog Calliope.”  I weighed the situation cautiously at first.  “They call me the Weathered Wiseman and this is Friz.”  He leaned in to Friz to give him a scratch under his chin and Friz licked the calloused hand making its way toward him.

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The ‘Green Wizard’ looked up at me and smiled as wide as his mouth allowed.  “There’s gotta be something said for the wizard’s dog.”  He laughed out loud as his dog and Friz rested on top of each other.  As we sat there talking, he told me stories of his travels….how he prefers to sleep out among the grass and trees, under the moon and stars.  He told me about the animals that work their magick around him and the importance of seeing magick in everything that makes it way to us.  I watched as his eyes twinkled and he seemed exude something akin to faery magick.

Was everything he told me true?  I don’t know.  Was he who he said he was?  Again, I don’t know.  My dog liked him.  His dog liked me….and honestly, he could ask himself those same questions about me.  The only thing I knew for certain, at that time, was that I was able to spend a couple of hours talking to someone fascinating….someone who held a magick within himself whether I or anyone else around believed it.  The magick within him resonated
something strong within my own spirit.  Whether it was the truth that the world would believe, maybe not.  But this was his truth…and for a brief moment, I was allowed to share it.

I only know what my heart felt like that evening.  My heart felt completely alive in those couple of hours.  It was as if the heartbeat of the Earth Mother sang in my own chest.  Was the interaction between he and I dangerous?  I trust my dog…and I trust what is inside of me.  I know if there had been something awry, that my own spirit would have kicked into overdrive and our paths would have never crossed.

As we finished talking, I looked down at his shoes.  Those shoes had seen so much travel.  I remembered that I always kept an extra pair of shoes in my car and our feet looked to be about the same size.  I asked if he would be there for a few more minutes.  He told me he would.  Friz and I sprinted to the back of the complex to my car.  I pulled out a pair of athletic shoes that hadn’t been worn much….but they were about to embark on a journey that cannot even be fathomed.

Friz and I walked back to that brick column and I handed him the shoes.  I told him that I wanted to give him something that would help his journey.  He thanked me with a hug and asked if he might ‘give me a blessing.’  I told him that the time I had spent with him that afternoon was blessing enough.  I bid him peace and safe travels.  Friz and I stood there as the moon began to rise.  We watched the Green Wizard walk toward the glow of the moon.  That young man may never have another occasion to remember me, but he is etched into every corner of my mind and a place in my heart that I didn’t know existed….for eternity.

Blessed Be!

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Another Time and Another Place

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We’ve all had that feeling before – the feeling of being out of place in the surroundings we are in.  This feeling of “otherness” has been the inspiration for great poems, books, and songs.  Imagining how we would be if we were somehow dropped into another life can be potent fuel which stokes the fires of creativity.   I know that in the back of my mind, I would personally love to be the reincarnation of Merlin from King Arthur’s Court…I am quite satisfied that, in all probability, I lived the quiet life of the cunning man deep in the forest of the British Isles.

I have learned in my magickal studies that the soul or spirit is ongoing.  While I sit here writing in my 47 year old body….my centuries old spirit has seen many things that this mind can only dream of.  I know that for some, reincarnation is something you may or may not believe in, but how do we explain that certain knowing that we get when we put our feet down on a certain plot of land….or that feeling that comes with walking into a place we have never been, and yet, we feel perfectly at home.

This feeling of “otherness” that I referred to earlier, is particularly strong for me when I am deep in the woods.  Even when I have been hiking in the mountains, forests thick around me….completely unsure of where I am, all I have to do is put my hand on a tree or sit down in the dirt and I am at home.  I listen to what these friends tell me….these friends from hundreds of years ago….and I can find my way.

I have also encountered people who seem to be a constant in my ‘lives.’  There have been some friends who have come into my spiritual space….not needing a formal invitation or a fanfare.  They just belong there.  These are people whom I know I have shared my energy with in past times.  I believe that we have been allowed to walk forward into other planes of time as a comfort….an instigator…a cheerleader….and a strength to each other.

This is the person who you may have never met face to face….never touched or walked alongside….but you know them.  That comfort level….that trust…a continuation of spirit and energy from a time and place gone by.  It is the same spirit that is there when the wind blows against your face.  It is that same spirit that I feel when I hear the ‘Graaaaakk’ of Mama Crow.  I have known her spirit for eons.  It is that same spirit that comes to me in the form of a blue dog.  Friz now….before Friz, Sally….before Sally, Patches.

I am often given glimpses of those past associations in my dreams.  It is always one of those instances that you know it is much more than a dream…more than fantasy….but more memory.  I know, when I dream, that as I stand in the middle of those woods, hands outstretched and other sets of hands join mine, that they belong to  those that I have traveled lives and spiritual planes with before.

The magick associated with all of this cannot be expected to be anything less than powerful.  Life nowadays sometimes scares me.  When I am overtaken with those anxieties, I think on the things I must have survived (or not) before.  When I think on these things, it stirs resolve inside of me that I never before thought I had.  I tend to fret over the little things….the day-to-day crap that isn’t worth a piddly-fart.  I find, though, when it comes to the big stuff….the major crises that tend break the strongest people…that is when I dig my feet in, plant myself and push my magickal shield out with all the force I have.  It is also in those moments that I call on those I trust, to walk alongside of me.  When I feel those familiar hands joined with mine….that is when you see magickal sparks fly.harry-potter-and-the-deathly-hallows-part-2-preparing-for-battle-hogwarts-protective-spell-shield

It took a while for me to realize that the power inside me has been building for hundreds of years.  Lord and Lady have poured themselves into me since time began.  I have walked the forests and fields many times over with Cernunnos himself.  The moon and I are such good friends because we have been nurturing that friendship for centuries.  Wolf has been walking with me since his spirit came into existence…and Mama Crow has been there for many many lifetimes.

I don’t take those human counterparts for granted either.  The energy we share now is only a culmination of energies that have been coming together since the time of the ancients.   As we join that energy….we can’t even begin to fathom what is coming into being.  I look at the world around me.  It is my time to change it.  The power inside of me joined with the power of those heart brothers and sisters will set the world on its ear.  I don’t take the commission of the Gods and Goddesses lightly.  Change has been affected in me so that I may bring change to those people and places surrounding me.

Especially lately, magick has been coming out of my pores.  Always the magnificent result I want?  No. Always the magickal result I need?  Yes.

Hang onto your hats fellas!  It’s gonna be a bumpy ride!

Blessed Be!

Walking Backwards

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Yesterday morning was overcast.  There was a bit of a drizzle of rain as Friz and I made our way to the pond.  I needed the pond yesterday.  This week has been a rough one all the way around.  Wrenches were thrown into everyday life, clients were more irate than usual…..I was yelled at more all week than I have been all year.

My mind, my body and my spirit were tired.  I felt more drained than I have in a long time.  It is a feeling that you have been beaten so much that you just don’t know if you can get back up.  My neck and shoulders hurt from carrying the stress of the week in them.

Friz could sense every bit of this on the walk.  He was more subdued than he has ever been.  He padded along softly beside me, knowing where we were headed.  When we got to the pond, we found a stump where one of the trees had been.  I know for a fact that the tree wasn’t dead, but the maintenance folks around here have been cutting down trees with a vengeance this week.  This just added to my tension.  I felt something welling up inside me and a muffled sob came to surface. 

I could feel so many thoughts rifling through my mind.  The first was that humans just don’t know how to leave things alone.  Everything has to fit into our way of thinking.  We have to squeeze and mash and tear and beat something until it fits into the box of a world that we have created.  We do it with everything….the environment, animals, and other people.

I have to watch myself….especially around my own animals.  Because I live in the city now, it is easy for me to forget that animals are animals.  I find myself sometimes expecting the dogs and cats to force themselves into a mold that I have created.  The dogs hear a noise, it’s natural for them to bark in response.  In my mind, they should know that we live in a condo (or glorified apartment) and that they should be quiet.  No barking for you….restrain your voice.  The cat knocks over a picture frame trying to look out the window, we scold him for knocking something down that we have placed a value on…not him.  We are the ones who have confined him (technically a wild animal) to the indoors with only a glimpse of the outside through a window. 

Animals are such wonderful spirits.  They can pick up on our moods…they offer their own type of empathic consolation.  They have adapted to the fishbowl that we have placed them in.  Our environment has had to learn the same.  We go ripping through forests with saws and bulldozers….all for the sake of progress.  God  and Goddess knows, Atlanta does not have enough empty office buildings or condominiums.  The tree that was cut down over the course of a day (even though there was nothing wrong with it) unfortunately was probably blocking someones view.  .

We humans have also become so completely intolerant of each other.  If someone elses lifestyle or belief system doesn’t fit with mine….I am going to tear them to shreds…beat them down until they can’t stand anymore.  We watch to see where their spot of vulnerability is and that is where we strike.

I have watched this week as the arguments for and against Marriage Equality have taken place.  I am so blessed….so fortunate to have surrounded myself with friends and family who feel that there should be no difference….that love is love.  But on the flip side, I have experienced co-workers who argue and spit comments about how “that’s not how God intended it to be” and if I hear the phrase about “Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve”  one more time, I may vomit.  Humans don’t like to feel like their little closed-in box of a world is threatened.

I have also witnessed the intolerance of religion all over Facebook this week.  So many witches getting their knickers in a knot because other witches want to celebrate Easter and Ostara.  I have so much fun with both.  I celebrate Ostara…my altar is adorned with flowers and eggs and rabbits and crystals. When Easter approaches…my altar is adorned with flowers and eggs and rabbits and crystals….Hmmmm.  Again, I feel like someone feels like their own little boxed in world is threatened.  Personally, it takes a little bit more than an Easter egg and fluffy chicks for me to feel threatened.  If someone wants to believe that Jesus rose from the dead…more power to them.  That is hope for them.  We as pagans have way more than enough Gods and Goddesses who are resurrected.

Trust me….I get it.  I have my own comfort zones.  But I sit back and watch as the world goes back to a survivalist mentality.  If it threatens me….I get rid of it.  I think that it is amazing that we put dogs down on a daily basis for acting the same way that humans do.  We have become the growlingest, snarlingest, teeth-baringest bunch of folks around.  We have decided that it is our job to back-stab, bitch-slap and bad-mouth anyone who doesn’t see eye to eye with us….hell, lately it is just as bad if someone looks at us cross-eyed. 

I am not, by far, High Priest “Stick Up His Ass” by any means.  I don’t care to be.  My tradition is my own, paired with teachings that I have received from those I trust and the Ancients.  I don’t really care if you don’t like it or not.  I am not you….nor do I ever care to be.  I am gay….I am a witch…I live a pretty regular life…I love my partner, my family, my animals, and my friends.  It isn’t your job to decide what is right or wrong in my life.  I am a grown man…I make those decisions.

Isn’t it time that we all leave the venom to those animals it is given naturally to?  Isn’t it time to not always have to fight about something? 

I have been beaten and mocked and made fun of for being gay.  I have been mocked and made fun of for being a witch.  I look forward to the day that both of those things are not shocking to others.

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‘An Harm None…..

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When I was a kid, I remember mama always telling me, “Now you be sure you play nice.”  Every time I walked out the door to play with the other kids in the area, to go fishing, to romp with the animals….I always got that same mantra.  “Now you be sure you play nice.” 

I have already told y’all that I was a mischievous child….not mean, just mischievous.  I loved to put baby green snakes where they shouldn’t be…or put a ‘hoppy toad’ down the back of my cousin’s dress…I even switched out all the eggs in the henhouse and put em all under different mamas.  I never did anything out of maliciousness as a little one.  I just liked things that would make me laugh….but I could always hear mama’s voice ringing in the back of my head….still do today.  “Now you be sure you play nice.”

This week, in the midst of the busy-ness of work and home and everything in between, Goddess gave my ear a tweak.  First off, I am a witch.  I don’t keep up with all the different traditions that are followed.  I am not really Wiccan….not Gardenerian…I am a plain old solitary witch.  I honor the Sabbats, follow the wheel of the year, can call the directions as well as anyone, cast a circle fantastically (well, in my mind) and do wonderful magickal spells.  I have always followed a particular part of the Wiccan Rede, though.  I have always abided by, “An it harm none, do what thou wilt.”  I think it all just stemmed back to my mama.  I just needed to play nice. 

This week, several times as a matter of fact, I was made madder than an old wet hen.  My boss pissed me off several times.  I had to deal with some local delinquents who had no respect for others.  I also had to deal with a client or two that just ripped me a new one because of someone else’s mistake.  By Thursday, ‘An harm none’ was about as far from my mind as it could get.  I was angry, tired, and quite literally fed up.  I had determined that I was going to let everybody have it……Open up a can of whoop-ass.

As I reached the point of no return, a client came up to me at work.  His bill had exceeded what he thought that it should be and he proceeded to chew on what little nerve I had left.  He started spitting out cuss words and his arms flailed harshly as if he might hit me at any time.  The veins in his forehead started pulsing….and he screamed.  Loudly.  I could feel it welling up inside me.  The anger that had been festering all week long was going to come to surface whether I liked it or not.  It was going to come out in one big ‘KABOOM’ and no one was going to be left standing.

Just as I breathed in enough air to spew every ounce of venom that I just knew was coming.  I opened my mouth and the word “Sir” came out.  With that one word, the man in front of me put his hands to his face and began to sob uncontrollably.  His body wretched and shook with every tear.  I watched in a matter of seconds as the tough exterior shattered and gave way to the man underneath.  It turned out he had  lost his job and then his dog got sick and this bill was a large chunk of what he had left in the bank.  I could feel the hand of the Goddess gently grab the upward corner of my ear and pointedly say, “You play nice!” man-crying

Last night I went back to that familiar phrase, “An it harm none, do what thou wilt.”  I meditated on it….I rolled it back and forth around my brain and my heart.  I went into the courtyard under the moon and talked back and forth with Lady Luna.  Well, let’s just say that I pissed and moaned and she listened for a bit.  “Sometimes I just want to make somebody feel as bad as they made me feel.  Sometimes people deserve it.”  As I said, she listened for a bit…then I began to feel her end of the conversation. 

She took me back to a time when I hurt many people.  I deserved to be burnt to a cinder.  I had been careless and thoughtless and many, many people were left in the rubble.  If anyone deserved to be ‘hexed’ or punished, it was me.  Instead, those around me, determined within themselves to pick up the pieces that were left of me and help me rebuild myself.  It was a hard road and I am sure there were times that they wanted to forsake the journey….but they stayed right beside me.

At this point, I could hear Goddess whispering in my ear.  “There is no need to harm anyone.  There is no need to ‘get even.’  You see, people do more harm to themselves.”  “You want to see the person who is constantly bragging about their accomplishments, which are mostly lies, come to justice, but they are living in a cage that they have created.  The lies and false accomplishments have become their bars.  They can never let their guard down for fear of showing the true self underneath.” “The boss who makes your life a living hell during the day goes home to a house with no good emotion.  A wife who lost her love for him long ago….and he drinks the night away to help him forget.” “The teenager who craves attention that they don’t get at home.  They are constantly told that they are stupid or useless.  Negative attention is better than none at all, in their mind.”

I sat there stunned.  I had been so wrapped up in my own anger this week that I had completely blinded myself to seeing past the outer shell of people.  I had studied Psychology in college until there were no more courses to take….I should have realized this.

People are not so unlike animals.  I deal with both types of creatures everyday.  When they are afraid, they frantically do whatever they can to survive.  They yell and growl to make you back away.  It is only when you approach them on their level…where they hurt the most that the healing can start. 

I am reminded of a few more words….”In perfect love and perfect trust…”  If my motives are always filtered through love, then I have created the most powerful magick possible.  Yes, I can still be hurt, but I can also offer someone or something an opportunity to fly….to experience healing.

When I cook, I can tend to over-salt.  I got this, too, from my mama.  One trick she taught me was that when there is too much salt, add a potato to soak up some of that salty taste.  Same way with people….sometimes they just need someone to help take away some of the hurt so that they can see long enough to start walking toward a path of healing.

That’s the way it was with me so many years ago.  Had someone not been willing to ‘harm none’ and walk me through in ‘perfect love and perfect trust,’  then I wouldn’t be the person I am today…..and thankfully I am still changing every day of my life.

Blessed Be!Children-and-Peaceful-Place1-300x200