Book of the Month: Wild Comfort

This stunning collection of essays was a delight to read.  Kathleen Dean Moore is a philosophy professor, nature lover, and wife to a biologist.  Moving fluidly from Oregon (her main home) to her Alaskan cabin and some exotic locals elsewhere her essays mix personal experience with deeply compelling reflections on death, the cycles of the earth, wild life and our human weaknesses.

Wild Comfort: The Solace of Nature takes you on a journey with Moore and her family that you want to continue past the end of the book.  After a series of close ones in her life dying she took to journey of the artist deep inside to find some sense of solace.  Bittersweet mixed with the simple rhythms of nature; while Moore's spiritual side is practically agnostic she touches on the mysterious and magical of the outdoors and our unmistakable connection to it.

I would recommend this book to anyone looking for comfort based in the falling of snow, the habits of birds or the currents of the ocean.

Poem of the Month: Vanquish

A little poem as therapy (for myself) this month.

Vanquish

Stand and face the fear

you stand for your truth

something that could never stay inside

indefinitely 

it would fester, eating caverns in your gut

twisting your face into a scowl

making your limbs weak from lack of use

making you shake with impatient hands

take heart from your lessons

take love from you ancestors

make one small step and then another

do not seek approval or even acceptance

rejection is as real as praise

your offering must just be that

a piece of your soul

made manifest in cloth, in words, in song

lay it down and back away

vanquish doubt

be grateful for having the chance to create

Veiling: My Thoughts

Dave and I, July 29, 2006

The controversy over recent months regarding veiling in the pagan community has been very interesting.  I'm not sure why it has been such a "hot topic."  It seems whenever a woman chooses to dress a certain way lots of people have opinions about that.  Personally I support an informed choice to dress however a person chooses to.  From culture to culture there are numerous examples of women veiling for religious, cultural and personal reasons.  From modesty, to devotion to ones gods, and then of course we have the forced veiling of women for control under men.  Pagan women like the ones quoted in this article are adopting this practice for diverse reasons, all of them stemming from informed choice.  I see this choice as thoughtful and subjective and for myself at this time not one I'm making.

Thinking about this topic has left me with two comparisons in my own life to experiences with veiling or not.  The most obvious one being for my marriage.  When I wed Dave I made my wedding dress and we had our ceremony outside.  When it came to what to wear on my head I chose not to wear a veil.  The casual aspect of our day and the style of my dress just didn't fit with a veil to me.  Also I wanted to feel open to the universe as I made my vow.  My hair flowed down my back and I work a sparkling silver headband of blue flowers.  I did now know it then but my choice was more in keeping with Anglo Saxon tradition of flowing hair and a crown of flowers since the current fashion of veils was ushered into vogue by Queen Victoria.

The first time I used a veil during trance work went very well.  It was encouraged as part of a Baba Yaga meditation and I found it much easier to journey that way.  Perhaps it was the covering of my crown chakra that helped.  I was able to look internally easier.  I felt more cut off from those around me and able to quiet ego and chatty internal dialogue.

Using a scarf or wrap in this way is very helpful in such work.  I think it encourages quiet and self reflection.  It can be likened to a horse with blinders on, keeping you focused on the task ahead or in this case inside.

Also I have read that head covering can help with keeping other people's energy from overwhelming you in public.  Again I think it helps to keep you from being open, or too psychically exposed so to speak.  In that way veils are a useful tool spiritually just like tarot cards or an altar cloth; serving a specific purpose to meet a  need in practice.

The cultural impact of practicing veiling in public is more complex and can lead to one being mistaken for another type of religious follower.  Since this choice is one that requires maturity and thoughtfulness I'd hope that anyone doing it in public would have the self assurance to take any misinterpretations in stride.  As pagan culture continues to develop and mature we will face many more new/old practices that will challenge our preconceived ideas of what and who we are collectively and as individuals.

Unity - a ritual blessing

Whether working in a formal Wiccan coven, pagan outreach group or a family circle it is always a positive experience to solidify bonds and join together from time to time to re-affirm connection.
Unity is more than just a noun or a buzzword.  We need to nurture it, feed it and give it room to grow our roots together.

I wrote this blessing 8 years ago and it was spoken at Summer Solstice.  As always it can be adapted to suit whatever situation is unique to your path.  My only recommendation would be to use it when the moon is from new to full.

A Blessing to Encourage Unity

On this Midsummer day of lasting light as we sit beside the sea
Let us bind our souls,
Let us bond our hearts,
Let us set our minds.

have everyone dip their hands in water passing a bowl, cloth or sprinkling the water over each participant

With this water from the sea
We ask for the gift of truth

circulate again with incense, a feather or an air symbol

With this incense which mingles with the air
We ask for the gift of honor

have everyone grasp some sand or rub their hands with it

With this sand from the strong earth
We ask for the gift of respect

at this point everyone can join hands side by side in a circle or each put one hand in to the center like when you do a cheer 

As our hands are bound
So are our hearts, souls and minds
A bond of spirit
A bond of love
Empowered through truth, honor and respect.
Blessed be.

Until we meet again...

Mary and I, April 1978

My first profound experience with death was when my paternal grandmother died when I was 7.  Her name was Mary and she was a loving, strong and pious woman.  I spent many an afternoon with her and when I was hungry and she asked me what I wanted to eat I'd say porridge and she would lovingly make it for me.

Her hair was pure white and her eyes were a crystal blue.  She never saw me through her eyes.  She slowly went blind in her 40's.  Her blindness did not limit her ability.  She wrote letters using a typewriter, played piano, cooked and baked and did all these things well and with love.
In my memory she was warm and kind and indulgent.  I feel grateful that I was able to spend the time with her that I did.
At this time of year as Samhain approaches my thoughts always turn to my beloved dead.  Each year memories float in and some take hold and stay while others drift off with the mists.  For many years I was sad that my strongest memory of my Granny was her death and how the days around it played out.  But now I've come to understand that it all falls into place as it can in each moment.  Her death was the last part of her life to those left on this plain.  I can't separate it from who she was or who I've become because of it.

 July of 1944 wearing a dress she had made herself

One morning in the summer of my 7th year I awoke to the sight of my mother leaning over me.  Her chin trembled with sadness as she told me that Granny had died.  Early that morning my grandfather had phoned my mom asking her to come over to his home (just a short walk down the road).  When my mother arrived she checked Granny and confirmed that she had passed away in her sleep.  As I stared up at my mother, seeing her grief plainly on her face I knew first and foremost that I would see my granny again.  It was the first feeling I had and while I was instantly sad I felt a resolve that has never gone away.  I will see her again.
The next few days hold a sprinkling of memories.  My grandfather coming into the house with his head bowed and a coat draped over his shoulders.  It was the first time I remember perceiving his vulnerability, the first time I had ever felt the urge to comfort him.  I remember the dress I wore to the funeral home viewing - it was mint green with an eyelet edging and a sash.  I remember seeing my Granny laying in the coffin my first instinct was panic that she surely was only sleeping and would wake up in the ground alone and frightened.  And I remember the silken pillow that was beside her in the coffin.  It had blue and pink carnations and was meant to symbolize her grandchildren, all eight of us.

I have often called on her in the years since her death.  I know she watches over all of us and sees us in a way she couldn't when she was alive.  There have been two marked times when I felt her presence, both at Samhain rituals.  The first was the fall before I became pregnant with my first son.  While in the Summerland during a trance journey I sat with her near a stream.  I remember being so happy to see her and the light around us being soft and golden.  She spoke lovely words that I do not remember.  When I left to journey back I was filled with the knowledge that I would soon have a child.   Five months later I was pregnant.
The second was almost a year ago also during the trance journey at our local Spiral Dance.  She came and was there with me.  I was so overwhelmed by her energy that I wept, something I've never experienced at that ritual in the 9 years I've been going.  It certainly was profound to feel that energy again after so many years.  I am very grateful for that gift.

This is a sad post I suppose but I see life's moments as important whether they are sad or happy.  As I've told the birth stories of my sons I have told the death story of another loved one.  The universe saw fit to grant another gift when my son Elliott was born on Mary's birthday.  It is a link that he will share with her forever, something that warms our family and honours her memory.

 Cecil & Mary's wedding November 1944

I didn't share my knowing at 7 that I'd see her again.  Perhaps I knew that it was a personal truth and not something that everyone would find comfort from.  Whether she comes to me again on this plain or not there will come a day when we will meet.  That stays with me.   It is a feeling for which I am always so thankful.

Trees are Life

My favorite part of the natural world has got to be trees.  I live on a mountain full of them, from every view out of the windows of our home their leaves reflect the sun in the summer.  In fall they drop colourful leaves in the heavy rains and in winter their strong branches bare the weight of occasional snow fall.  Spring brings buds and flowers on some varietals and birds sing of the wheel's turning.

The concept of the World Tree, Tree of Life as axis mundi or the connector of the sky, earth and underworld is one that resonates deep inside me.  In my trance work a large smooth tree with wide branches and curling roots acts as my entrance point to my sacred space.  Sometimes the tree is full of leaves, sometimes its branches are bare.  Always I feel secure as soon as I see it, its energy being familiar and grounding.

The scientific magic of trees is still being studied but I have been reading small snippets of articles that talk about the ability trees have to communicate with each other.  They clean the air, keep soil from eroding and provide shelter to countless other beings (us included).  Check out this video relating the connections trees have through their root systems.

I tend to shift which tree to focus on depending on the seasons.  In spring cherry, plum and apple blossoms herald new beginnings and maple trees share their sweet sap.  In summer I love willow, oak and birch trees; all the leaves in their shapes and textures and how the sun shines through them.   When fall arrives I tend to notice the trees laden with fruit and nuts and which ones turn colour first to signal autumn.  And as Yule comes the conifers whisper quiet words of reassurance and lend their evergreen to the starker landscape of cold, wet days.

Here are some books on my future reading list if you are just as passionate as I.  Don't forget to hug a tree today or stand in Tree pose and just be.


Arboretum America: A Philosophy of the Forest by Diana Beresford-Kroeger

Arboretum Borealis: A Lifeline of the Planet by Diana Beresford-Kroeger

Remarkable Trees of the World by Thomas Pakenham

Mythic Woods: The World's Most Remarkable Forests by Jonathan Roberts

How to Plant a Tree: A Simple Celebration of Trees and Tree-Planting Ceremonies by Daniel Butler

Thankful

It is with a thankful heart that I look back on our celebration of Autumn's arrival this year.

Gathered in a garden in the middle of the city we looked at art that was inspired by the earth.

I am thankful for stone, wood, red leaves, friends and family to share blessings with and the abundance all around us.

Thankful for good food, time to laugh and darker mornings.  Although I feel a bit fatigued from the change now as the light shifts us to a more quiet time of year, even though it gets busier despite the growing dark.

Staying Solitary?

My journey on this path has shifted over the 13 years I've been walking it.  From gathering information to joining an eclectic circle of women to heading out on my own.  The heading out on my own part just happened to coincide with having my children.  And so the life of a solitary practitioner has been spotty for me.  I've done ritual, worked in trance and gathered with others to celebrate, honour and feast.  I have set goals and met them, but often not met them.  This has been a matter of priority setting for me.  It has been my choice to put my family first and so my spiritual practice has taken a backseat many times.
As I emerge from babyland to a place where my children are more independent from my care things are shifting.  And although my tunnel still feels long at times there is a beacon there.  
I have heard others recently describing their religious work in a group and their spiritual practice alone.  I'm still abrasive to the word religion for many reasons but I understand the desire to make the distinction between work done in a group and alone.
As the years move on I understand more about the ebbs and flows of life.  What I am coming to realize is that the initial aspects of paganism that compelled me to call myself a pagan are changing.  I see this as a natural evolution as I become more and more in tune with my inner self.  And as these shifts occur I find that my desire to understand interests and origins grows.  I have never thought of myself as a seeker in the sense of how the word is used around the pagan community these days.  But where I may go in the future to deepen my understanding may bring me to work with other pagan groups.  By other I mean Druidry and Nordic faiths.  All of my group work has been in Wiccan based faiths, some very eclectically so.   I will take the next few years to do more reading, understand fully where I have come from and then decide where to go from there.
I think the "teacher" or "teachers" I may seek will present themselves at the moment they are meant to.  For now I feel comfort in the idea that this path will swerve around and bring me places I can't imagine for myself when the time is right and when I can make this part of my life more prominent again.  

Saving the Harvest

As the wheel of the year turns towards Autumnal Equinox each year I try and preserve some of the harvest for our family.  In the past I have frozen corn and picked apples for applesauce near the end of September.  This year I was home in the second week of September with 20lbs of Roma tomatoes.

There is a rhythm to stirring sauce, peeling tomato skins and chopping vegetables.  An almost trance feeling can come over you as you stir and watch the bubbling meld the flavours. 

Because, as I've mentioned previously, I spend so much time in the kitchen these days the work I do there has taken on a magical element for me like never before.  This is my daily practice, my most constant repeated routine and one that affects the fundamental roots of the household the most.

When we pick apples this year as we have for the past 5 now, we will fill our cloth bags with huge red orbs that along with pumpkins are my most treasured signal of harvest time.  The ripening of the earth's bounty is a finite time.  A blink and you've missed it.  But it also takes lots of time and as this time of year is always full with activities and such I always pick out a few things to try and see if they bring myself and my loved ones joy.  Making the tomato sauce was very labour intensive from start to finish.  I've learned from this experiment how much I'm willing to dedicate to tomatoes next year.  Applesauce is also labour intensive but we've come to love the flavour of our sauce better than that we buy at the store.  The key this year will be to make enough to last us through the winter. 

The component of preserving the harvest that I find to be the most spiritual is the link I feel to my ancestors while doing it.  Certainly as Samhain is just around the corner and the veils thin as the days shorten this work stirs their blood within me.  For all of our modern lives and conveniences of the 21st century everyone needs to eat.  Through the actions of growing, harvesting, preparing and consuming food we are the most human, the most connected with our mother, the most at the mercy of her grace, and the blessing that another season of bounty will come again.

a Quarters call

I wrote this for an esbat many moons ago.   It jumped into my mind's eye when Q came up this week for the Pagan Blog Project.

As the sun rises in the east

we call the properties of air to form the circle

Fly to us on Raven wings

As the sun warms the south

we call the properties of fire to form the circle

Travel to us on a sun ray, warm us as you warm the snake

As the sun sets in the west

we call the properties of water to form the circle

Swim to us with the noble turtle

As the sun sometimes never sets in the north

we call the properties of earth to form the circle

Run to us beside the majestic polar bear

As our center shines with our internal sun

we call the properties of spirit to form the circle

Bind us together with the grace of nature's energy

the circle is cast, we are between the worlds,

blessed be

Pregnancy: reflections on growing two souls

Before I begin I'd like to share that I'm going to focus on the positive aspects of my two pregnancies in this post.  I want to make that clear because I felt guilty often while I was pregnant for not enjoying every part of it.  But in the interest of being honest about my experience for any woman yet to travel that path it was not all roses.  There is lots of magic in creating new humans but also lots of challenges and it is okay to not love all of it all the time.

I take the concepts of "know thyself" and "your body is your temple" as close to heart as I can.  They are a pillar in the fundamentals of my spirituality.  That is why as a pagan I feel immensely overwhelmed at times by the awesome power that nature has in the creation of life.  It amazes me to plant a seed and see it turn into a seedling and then a vegetable which I can eat.  I am amazed by the will of life, by how fragile it is, how particular and also how random it tends to be.  And so the fact that two human beings have lived inside me and were created by two of my eggs and my partner's sperm still blows my mind.  Nature is magnificent.

When I was the home to these two souls there were many crazy and emotional moments.  When I was in the moment it was very much about staying there.  With my first pregnancy, Kyan's, I remember rushes of energy.  My blood moving through my veins faster than usual.  Feeling attuned with everything around me, feeling a part of a bigger plan and power.  I was very grounded while he was with me.  I slept deeply and did not dream.  I felt round and earthy and rooted.  Interestingly he is an earth sign.  And having the pulse of that inside me did alter how I saw things for those 9 months.  I was always warm no matter the temperature.  I set up an alter dedicated to growing and fertility and motherhood as I imagined it to be.   I read this book, I read many more on breastfeeding, childbirth and mothering.  I took a spiritually focused pre-natal class and I searched for pagan books or articles relating to rituals during pregnancy(and didn't find much).  And I read hundreds of birth stories from women in all walks of life.

With Elliott's pregnancy there was little that was the same.  Having a different soul inside was indeed different.  He was born a water sign and that is the same as my own.  That made a huge difference.  He told me early on that he was a boy.  I dreamed intense and deeply.  His name was called out by a mother at a playground and was instantly the only boy name he could have.  I felt the desire to make art often which surprised me because my first pregnancy had taken all desire to create anything other than the baby away.  I kept things simple and celebrated Imbolc with his arrival a month and 16 days away.  There was less time to feel the magic in my body but there was also always someone there to share it with me.  A little hand on my belly outside and in.  Two souls, two lives to unfold around me.

The temple of my body grew my sons and now will create new ideas and new plans for me.  I know myself enough to feel that I will not again experience pregnancy's magic.  What a glorious gift it is, what a complex and ancient wisdom that it holds.  

Pagan Podcasts Revisited

Three years ago I wrote a post about the Pagan Podcasts that I was listening to at the time.  And I thought I should share a few more as well as point out that I have a page dedicated to all the podcasts I listen to above.  I love podcasts.  They are very practical for busy people and there are just so many things that I've gained from listening.  Way too many to list here.  But for those who are new to paganism or even veterans who haven't listened yet I urge you to give it a try.  Many of the podcasts I started listening to are now no longer podcasting but as all of us who frequent the internet know sometimes things endure and sometimes they fade away.  But the benefits certainly outweigh not giving it a try.  And if you don't find one that you like right away keep trying because there are tons out there.  Here is a list and short description of my current favorites in no specific order.

Druidcast - Damh the Bard hosts this cast put out by the Order of Bards, Ovates and Druids once a month.  This cast has music, interviews, lectures and giveaways.   I have learned lots about Druidry with this cast and there are times when the music has been otherworldly good.

The Wigglian Way - Hosted by Mojo and Sparrow this podcast is a hometown favorite for me.  This show is full of personality and fun.  I like that the hosts are not afraid to be real.  I'm not a Wiccan like these two nor am I a Druid but listening to the experiences of other pagans walking their paths is very enriching for me.

Digging Nordic Roots - with Kari Tauring and friends has only two episodes but I really hope more are produced.  I am fascinated with Kari and her work with Runes.  So fascinated that I found her book and bought it.  You may notice a theme here that each cast deals with a different tradition and covers a wide spectrum of the pagan experience.  That is the beauty of this community - so much to learn and delve into.

Elemental Castings - T. Thorn Coyle's journey through the elements of life.  Each podcast centers on an element and then Thorn and her guest discuss how that element relates to their work, path and life.  Often Thorn will also share recordings of the panels she participates in when she travels to spiritual conferences around the world.

The Pagan Homesteader - If you love gardening, animals, Permaculture and homesteading then check this one out.  Rhianna Stone shares the goings on of her homestead, interviews, heritage animals and folktales.  This is about living life pagan rather than focusing solely on the spiritual side.

This is really the tip of the iceberg in pagan podcast land but have a look out there and find what suits you.  These podcasters put out their work for free and deserve our support.  What a resource for us all.  Please add any pagan podcast that you can't live without and why in the comments for all to find.

Ocean Ritual

As a water sign I feel compelled to visit and connect with my element often.  It can be as simple as standing beside a stream or feeling the rain on my skin; but sometimes I need a bit more.  A few years ago I wrote this ritual for a friend and I to do together while camping on a lovely island in the Pacific ocean.  As two depleted mamas you can imagine what we were asking for from the waves but anyone needing to connect to water could use this ritual and adapt it as necessary.

We sat in the ocean in sacred space, the tide was coming in which created a beautiful movement for us.  Rocking us gently.  I would recommend being as close to the water as you can when you do this.  Summer is of course a great time to be immersed in cleansing waves.

Before beginning ground and center in which ever manner you are accustomed to.  Cast a circle if that is your normal practice or if the circumstances are favorable for it.

The Water holds our emotions
we ask for cleansing
we ask for healing
we ask for rest
we ask for calm
we ask for release

Great Mother Ocean please share with us your wisdom and strength
Please help us as we mother
help us to flow and move like the waves
help us to soothe others but not deplete ourselves

After these words evoke a rhythm with singing or chanting.  We sang the song in this post which I wrote years ago.  But any song or chant about water will work.

Great Mother we offer you ___________ today and thank you for your love and abundance.  
Blessed Be.

Though this is short and simple we sat for over an hour in the waves.  Connecting with the water and it's healing powers is the key. 

Out of Doors

 Summer Solstice beach fire (with the moon above and waves crashing) 

The wind was also very strong that night.

There really is nothing like being outside.  And by that I mean in fresh air, under the sky, and on earth that can be felt under your feet.  Attending ritual within nature's cathedral enhances my senses and often I feel a link to centuries past, a time when being in nature was our nature; when we couldn't shield ourselves from inconvenient weather because our indoor options were few and far between.  Certainly the soft breeze and warm sunshine of spring and summer, the crisp air and slight chill in fall, and the mild cold and soft snowfall of winter are the ideal settings to share sacred space in, but what happens when the temperature drops suddenly or the day is full of thunder and lightening...well, it can't be helped.
My philosophy with the weather is to tough it out as often as I can.  I do this not because I'm a masochist but because I want to acknowledge my humble place on this globe and push myself beyond my comfort zone.
Rituals are not a huge part of my practice right now but as all ebbs and flows I know they will become more prominent as I gain more "me" time.  Also my interests are changing.  My spiritual inspirations are shifting and that will change what ritual means to my practice, but the being outside connection is a constant regardless.

 A lovely Beltaine day making wands by a lake on a mossy patch

I was just listening to episode 103 of The Wigglian Way and they played a song by Lady Isadora called Drawing Down the Moon and these lyrics fit perfectly with my theme today:

 

"Gather in secret if you must
But do not tarry overlong behind closed doors
For it is in the richness of the Earth
And the boundlessness of the Sky
That My true Temple is to be found
And the Moon and Sun and Stars
Will keep your secrets.
Look for Me within these things
But above all within your own souls
For it is there I am
And beyond..."

 

A cold Winter Solstice fire.  

My dad built this in -10 degree Celcius temps.

And though you can't see the rain here Elliott's naming ritual was a wet one.

In my memories of these rituals and many others that I didn't have photos to share, the weather whether it was lovely or not stamped a mark.  That is the beauty to being connected in sacred space to the earth's many faces.  You remember the cold or the soft breeze,  how wet you were from the rain or how the candles were melting from a scorching sun. All this makes that time about more than words and deity or spells but also about our humanity, and our interconnectedness with this holy earth that is our home.

Needlework in Magic

[updated July 4th, 2014 - as information regarding Marion Zimmer Bradley's sexual abuse of children has been revealed I am deeply distressed but will leave this post as it is.  Mists of Avalon was a work that I loved to read but I no longer endorse Bradley's work.  In no way do I feel her art makes up for committing sexual abuse or turning the other way when a loved one commits such acts.]

Many artists, myself included feel as if they are conduits for divine energy.  I do not separate my artwork from my spiritual practice because when I make art I connect to a deep soul place that resonates with both my artistic and spiritual self.

Spiritual artwork is brought forth in many forms and has been used to adorn magical objects and places for thousands of years.  In my case this work is created with a needle and thread.  Whether through embroidery, quilting or sewing functional objects with each stitch I try and connect with a deeper flow and sense the divine moving through my fingers.
One of the most eloquent and powerful descriptions of this can be found in Marion Zimmer Bradley's classic Mists Of Avalon.  Morgaine is a priestess of Avalon and is told to make the scabbard for Arthur's sword.  She enters into a ritual space where she will channel the Goddess and embroider spells to protect the sword's bearer in battle.

On the first day, she cut, using the sword itself, an undersheath of thin doeskin. It was the first time she had had fine tools to work with, and she took pleasure in the special iron needle she had been given to stitch the sheath together...

Fashioning the shapes of doeskin sheath and velvet to cover it, she spent the first day; and before she slept, deep in meditation of what she must do, almost a trance, she cut her arm a little and smeared the doeskin with her blood...

All that day, in silence, she worked, gazing into the chalice, letting the images rise, now and then stopping to wait for inspiration in the meditative flow; she worked the horned moon, so that the Goddess should always watch over the sword and guard the sacred blood of Avalon. She was so wrapped in the magical silence that every object on which her eyes gazed, every movement of her consecrated hands, became power for the spell; it seemed at times as if visible light followed her fingers as she followed the horned moon with the full moon, and then with the dark moon, for all things must follow in season...there were times when it seemed that needle and thread moved through her own flesh or through the flesh of the land, piercing earth and sky and her own blood and body...

By sunset of the third day it was finished, every inch of the scabbard covered with twining symbols, some of which she did not even recognize; surely they had come directly from the hand of the Goddess through her hands? She lifted it; slid the sword into it; weighted it in her hands; then said aloud, breaking the ritual silence, "It is done."

(Here is a visual rendition of this scene in the book) 

While I have never had an experience as grand as this telling the trance-like rhythm of needlework often carries me to a space that feels between.  As I look towards a future of making more time to create artwork I see this as a technique to develop not only for my art career but also for my spiritual practice and journey.

Poem of the Month: Nuance

Nuance

Shadows are there 

fallen, strewn, cast about

this path is not smooth

this path twists

back and forth

your way is not clear through

this path brings thorns

blood dripping a trail behind

one drop for each test endured

ahead is somewhat mottled 

nuances of colour

grey upon shades of grey

stars shine above you

the earth firm below

this path is yours

but you are not alone

this path brings rest and sustenance

this path takes courage

but rewards with truth

simple as it is complex

bringing strength of heart

Book of the Month: Moon Mysteries

I was lucky enough to win a copy of this fantastic book last year.  Written by Nikiah Seeds and Nao Sims and illustrated by Eyan Myers this book celebrates an intimate side of womanhood, our menses.
Moon Mysteries: Reclaiming Women's Menstrual Wisdom takes the reader through 13 months/moons and features personal reflections from each author as well as historical and spiritual associations with different aspects of our menstrual cycles.
From our connection to the tides to our relationship with motherhood and our sexual partners this book is designed to be a workbook with custom charts for filling in and recording moon phases and emotions throughout our monthly rhythms.
Moon Mysteries is a journey helping us to honour something that our culture has come to denigrate making us in turn do the same.  Celebrating, writing in journals, taking time to acknowledge the changes that your body goes through each month all of that and much more is possible in this book's pages.
I love how each chapter is named by a themed moon as so many cultures have done for millions of years.  The Green Witch Moon, Blood Moon, Dreaming Moon, Serpent Moon - so much lovely imagery for the soul.  And speaking of imagery for the soul Eyan Myer's illustrations are stunning and invoke magic for the reader.
Although the book is not specifically pagan it speaks to the deep magic of ancestral devotion and the spiritual side of living.  I would recommend it for any thoughtful woman's library as a treasure to read through again and again.

The Lark: hear your sacred song

For some reason for a year before I became pregnant with my first son I was entranced with several different  plants, animals and other magical messengers.  I was very open to noticing the signs around me at the time.  And I had the time to not only notice but delve deeper into the messages they were imparting.
One of my messengers was the Lark.  The name stood out to me and the bird began to sneak into my world.  I have no idea if I've ever seen this bird in person, and I've never had a dream of one either.  The lark just sticks with me as a word that makes me smile and an inner connection to something quiet but compelling.

Just to clarify the Western Meadowlark and the Lark are two separate genus of the bird family.  I have looked into both.  There are several varieties of Lark in Australia and Europe.  Only one variety the Horned Lark has spread to North America.  As a totem the Lark is said to herald the importance of sound, music and voice.  The bird is associated with the Heather plant and will awaken you inner sacred song.  Chaucer called the lark the busy messenger of day and most often the lark is associated with the early bird saying.

The Meadowlark has both an eastern and western version and is a "New World" species.  As a totem this bird is said to mean a cheerful journey inward revealing intuition and innate abilities.  Meadowlarks are valuable to have in your fields as a natural insect remover and is the State bird of six U.S. states including: Oregon, Montana and Nebraska.  The Eastern and Western Meadowlarks are most distinguishable from their songs.

Whether in the magical or mundane world this bird is another wonder of the Goddess' creatures to behold.

Lessons abound

When I think of spiritual seekers who make sacrifices and climb the ladder of enlightenment my mind creates a visual:  nuns, monks, long robes, simple and unadorned they move through life in quiet contemplation.  Often a family is not in the picture, deadlines, money concerns, filling the car with gas and shopping for groceries,  those things are not in the forefront of my spiritual seeker's life.  Instead they are meditating on a mat each morning, reading ancient texts, and praying before each meal.  A daily practice is second nature.  Whether or not this person or these people actually exist is another story.  This is an image that my soul shows to me when I question my path.  It offers the opposite to what I have now as a more pious option.

You can't let go of your ego and wipe runny noses and cook dinner...
You don't have time to have a daily spiritual routine...
Your life is not part of the big world picture... 


My soul likes to send me messages of doubt.  Years ago in Soul Mates by Thomas Moore this lesson struck a cord with me.  The soul always craves the opposite of what it has.  So despite my life's mission of raising my kids and relishing in the chance to be with them all day when they are little I crave something different.  Part of my soul longs for solitude, peaceful moments to reflect and seek truths.

I think the collective mindset regarding living a spiritual life is skewed.  We look at 40 days fasting in the desert as an ideal trial.  Searching for answers in sacrifice of daily life and isolation from loved ones as a defining test of dedication to the Gods.  But what about standing in your life, the stuff of life and doing it at the same time?
What about looking in your child's eyes and trying to figure out what they need in this moment, seeing them for the bright spirit they are and giving your self for their betterment.  Therein lies an ultimate test of piety.  There have probably always been spiritual men and women who have sacrificed a family of their own for the care of the tribe.  They could not dedicate time to their own offspring when they were needed to help others in their lives.  But in many cultures the holy men also were fathers.  My above vision is a newer idea of spiritual life.  Men and women were not always expected to give up family for a life of service to their religion.

This topic is much bigger than I can tackle here in this moment.  But what occurred to me as I was trying to get Elliott to sleep the other night is that no spiritual trial could challenge me more than this work I'm doing.  My ego rears itself often as I shake my fist at the universe.  Can't the baby just sleep for 2 hours straight, must I pick up these crayons again today, who are these little men that I care for day after day?

This work is my fasting in the desert.

My quiet contemplation is done in literal seconds.  Tiny snippets when both boys are content and occupied.  The adventure that is parenting is a trial by fire, you see many of your worst traits reflected in the faces of little ones that look to you for their very survival.  I will never seek transcendence in a cave in Tibet, a hermit in self inflicted isolation, rather I look for my truth in the shining eyes of two little boys every single day and know that this moment is all I have and I'm grateful for the chance to live this way.

spiritual Kinship

kinship - relationship by nature or character; affinity

Along the winding path that has brought me to this moment in my spiritual journey I have been fortunate to find many kin.  None have been blood relations but our bond has been from a common nature, character or interest.  We have sought together, looking inward while using each other as sounding boards for the next step to take.  Sharing books, information and the planning of rituals.  Challenging directions, supporting changes and many times letting go of hopes of similar outcomes.

Each woman that has joined me on this path has met me in a place of openness and I have tried to hold that space with her with an open heart.  You'll notice I say woman and that is because as of yet my practice has not included direct interaction with men.  This was a fairly deliberate choice.  One that can be fleshed out a bit more here if you are so inclined.   In the future I see that that could be different for me but since I am not a seeker right now it remains only one possibility of many.

 I feel fortunate that from several of my close girlfriends spiritual bonds evolved.  And despite geographical distance we ventured down similar paths in search of our truths.  Certainly most of our twenties were about this journey.   Who am I?  What am I looking for in this life?  To have companions as you search is truly a blessing.

Rarely the magic of the circle cast and the trust built from years of planning and carrying out ritual cemented friendship.  The kinship here was made slowly, fermented like a good wine and required patience and devotion to reach it's unique maturity.

Working together, falling apart, trying again or calling it quits.  There have been so many ebbs and flows as the kin have changed through this process.  They all retain special places and memories, sometimes sighs of regret but all lessons were important to the journey at hand.  

This post is about how integral the kinship of the women pictured here and some who are not have been to my path.  How their teachings and love have influenced me beyond measure and made their lasting patina on where my soul rests today.  Coming together in perfect love and trust is a risk that requires a leap of faith.  There are rarely road maps to direct you through the waves of life and spiritual practice as they crash on the shore.   But the bonds breathe and flex, twist and stretch.  I am grateful for each of you, near or far for all you have been and continue to be in this spiral dance.