The Times They Are a Changin'

When the Universe speaks, not a whisper or intuition, but directly in your ear, a shout, I listen. I have too. It's a part of my motto "To Thine Own Self Be True." We're all star-stuff, a part of but apart from Creation and the Creator, and when I hear that voice speak, always in my right ear, to not listen would be to betray myself. Case in point: I read tarot. I used to read professionally for a couple of years. Reading tarot is a way to tap directly into the Divine through my own intuition and Self. A lot of times the cards just say what they say, making sense thanks to their own symbology and where they fall in a spread, but sometimes that voice whispers in my ear extra information that I simply couldn't know about a person or situation, or has a message from the beloved dead.

When I read tarot for myself it gets harder as the Ego has a way of getting in the way but I've gotten fairly good at getting it to sit quiet for a bit while I listen to what the cards are trying to tell me. Focusing my mind ahead of time, of outright praying to Hestia and Hera, the goddesses I'm currently being called too, helps as well. Before deciding on this latest move back to our home province, via a long stop in our hometown, I read my cards and prayed for guidance. They spoke clearly and without hedging; this was going to be a Good Thing and we needed to get on it. There would be some complications (and boy have there been) but in the end this was the right path for our family.

Yesterday while we were out at the T'Souke River (Sooke River) and looking at the potholes carved into the stone along the riverbed we were visited by a butterfly; mostly white with black markings - it first settled down on Katherine, then Ryan, then Kat again, then me, and then fluttered aaaall the way over to where Gabe was sitting by the river, and onto him as well. It was kind of amazing. How rare is it for a butterfly to land on one person, nevermind visit a whole family? I'd say pretty rare. After I finished snapping photos of the butterfly sailing off above the river and we marvelled over it, that quiet little voice in my head told me that it was a sign that the caterpillar part of our life was over.There IS light at the end of this tunnel of moves and scraping by and it's close. It's so close I can feel it even if I can't see it yet, like the coolness of night that borders on cold heralding the approach of Autumn. It's there, just around the river bend, waiting for us. We're ready, we're MORE than ready, to settle down into a Home and begin a new life.

New Job, New Mindset

These aren't the droids you're looking for.

I'm starting a new job today; I don't know for how long or what hours or anything but we're desperate for money so I'm taking it even though it's not in my field and I've never done it before. A friend put a good word in for me at her cleaning job so off I go in a bit. I've had very mixed feelings about this but I don't have time to go into it right now. All I have time for is a quick prayer.

Hephaestus! Mighty God of the Hammer and Forge! You who creates all that is bright and beautiful, hear my prayer! May my hands be as diligent as yours, my arms as untiring, my back unbent and my spirit proud. All jobs need doing. Help me to accept this challenge and overcome it with strength and dignity in honour of my family.
Blessed be, Hammering One.

Hestia, Hera and Harvest Time

Yesterday Ryan recieved word that a manager position has opened up back in our home province of Ontario; in Kitchener-Waterloo to be exact, a mere 6 hour drive from Home. It's a long, wandering track that's led us this far and the road is still stretching out uncertainly ahead. We don't know yet if we'll take it, we don't know yet what will happen if we do, how our family will sort itself out, who will live where and for how long, and all the rest. When I asked him today via text "Weeeell?!" he said "Ask your cards." So I did.

As I walked down the hall to the wooden chest where I keep my tarot cards, companions now for over a decade and my hotline to the divine, I was saying a prayer to Hestia and Hera, two heavenly sisters I've suddenly grown quite close too. I feel almost as if they're with me as my family and friends are not. Or maybe I'm just reaching out more thanks to the near crushing loneliness. Whichever. I asked them for guidance and honesty as I shuffled, to help us make the right choices for our family. I prayed for their help, for stability, for a Home most of all. It's very rare I ever ask anything for myself; I'm used to using my cards as a way to help others and this is very much like that. Everything we've been doing the last six months has been on the path of What Is Best For Our Family and like I said, it's been a windy road.

So I asked, and did they answer! From the moment I flipped the first card onto my purple, black and white celtic patterned cloth I felt buzzing with energy. I asked and flipped and wrote insights down and kept going until my mind felt both empty and full at the same time. They were powerfully clear and helpful. Everything we've done so far has been in preparation for what's coming. The two cards I pulled and placed on the altar last week during the full moon were the rune for Movement and the Morrigan, more hints of what's to come. The move from Nanaimo to Victoria, the uncertainty, even my job loss from Alpine, has just been more preparation. If I still had my cushy job with them I wouldn't be so strongly considering a move to Ontario. If we hadn't left Nanaimo to come here for the assistant manager job, Ryan wouldn't even be considered for manager job in Kitchener. If we hadn't come to the Island in the first place, well, who knows where we'd be?

After some much needed lunch we went to the library grocery store, then on the way back stopped to pick blackberries growing along the fence by our building. They're big, juicy and sweet right now, perfect for the First Harvest coming up tomorrow. As we picked I talked to Gabe about how important harvest time was to our ancestors, and for him to imagine what it would be like if the only food we had was the food we could grow and pick ourselves. Harvest time would be really important, he said. He said if we didn't work hard we'd starve in the winter. He's right. You have to work hard, and sometimes even then your best isn't good enough. Locusts or drought or flood can wipe out your harvest. Shit happens but being resilient and having a good support structure around you makes all the difference. We picked and I told him I was making sure some of the really good on the altar as an offering to the Creator, as a way of showing that I was thankful for what we had. I ended up baking cookies this afternoon too, chocolate chip ones that are soft and goey inside with extra chocolate, and I made sure to put one of those there for the Goddesses I've been working with as well.

I was struck while baking that if Hestia had a modern persona, she'd probably be a home-schooling mom, one of those 'I grow it, bake it, preseve it, sew it and craft it' myself kind of women, busy on Pintrest and Facebook and with the kid's Parent/Teacher Association, and of the two Goddesses probably appreciated the cookies most. Hera, on the other hand, would be a high powered business woman. She drives a nice car, wears Pepper Pots style outfits, carries a cellphone and is equally at home in the board room or working hard in her own office space on her own projects. She sips a pricey latte and smiles at me over the top of her PDA but the rich chocolate in the cookie rivals that of a dried out Starbucks offering, and she's pleased.

Sorry for the rambling, but I had a lot to get out there.

Blood on the Wind

Yesterday while out on my run I saw two birds fly into the path of a car. Only one survived. In a puff of feathers one bird's life was over and as I jogged the warm smell of blood was pushed into my open mouth by the breeze. Nearby the other bird sat in a tree warbling. It bothered me, the taste of blood in my mouth, a weaker, less coppery taste than that of my own, but the scent and taste was still that of life. Pausing in my run I turned back and, using a small set of sticks, removed the bird's body from the road. It was crushed and there was gore smeared on the pavement, the once bright brown eyes completely disappeared. Placing the body gently in the greenery I told it to rejoin the earth and someday they would fly again. Resuming my run I spat out the lingering flavour into the dust.

On My Knees

I'm not really a prayerful person. I rarely feel moved to pray earnestly or at length. More often an exclaimation or simple thanks passes my lips to a deity or just Creation itself. Following the rescued-from-kidnapping case in Cleveland, Ohio, however, has me praying to Artemis in a way I haven't in years. I pray to Her that the women and the little girl who have lived in such brutal circumstances for so long find healing and justice, that She will protect them from the brunt of the media circus that would, without thought or feeling, hurl itself upon them for a quick buck. I pray deeply and completely that the littlest of them, the one baby who lived of Goddess only knows for sure how many didn't, is able to grow from this undamaged, unscarred. She's only six and so far not a single word or image from her I've seen anywhere-this is as it should be. I pray she is allowed to be anonymous until she is ready to tell her story (if she ever chooses too) and not one moment before. Artemis is the protector of young women and children and surely She has been with these four from the beginning of their ordeal and I pray for many months from now. I pray that She sees justice done against the man accused of these crimes and that he disappears into a lonely cell for a very very long time, bereft of the things he loves the most. I pray that someday he too finds healing, though right now in my heart I admit that there is little for him but hate. Gracious Lady of the Silver Bow, so mote it be.

Run for a Reason

The reason I started running was for me; a simple, selfish reason of getting out of the house for a while on my own and doing something that makes me stronger and healthier. Today I began week four of my couch to 5km program and while out there on the road, thinking of the women who walk for water, at least one of whom is my clan sister, I was thinking that I should do something like run for Mother Earth. And then I ran right past a gorgeous eagle feather right on the side of the road. On my way back I picked it up and gave thanks (wish I'd has some tobacco to put down) and kept thinking about my idea the whole way.

Running for a higher purpose makes sense; my first marathon is going to be the Victoria Goddess Run, which is raising money for local women's chairities. I was drawn to it for the name, that it wasn't 'just' a run, and also that I'd be in the right place at the right time. It's just over a month away now, but after that I don't know what's next. I'll keep running, keep training, but why? To what purpose? Apparently for Mother Earth. I'm going to send an email to my clan sister about this, and also to Bawdwaywedun and ask him what I should do to honour my feather, and if I'm allowed to wear it. I'm going to bring it up with me to Nanaimo today for Beltaine and at least cleanse it with my Circle. Wee!

The Value of Home

It's been almost two years since we left Sault Ste. Marie and our first, and last, real home. The house on Moody St was ours for four years and a bit; We moved in when I was pregnant with Gabe, we brought him home from the hospital to that house, I planted my first gardens there that were really my own and grew my own food. We couldn't always make the rent though, or ever pay the oil bill, but dammit it was ours. At least, that's how it felt. In reality it belonged to my inlaws; they bought it for us to live in so we wouldn't have to struggle like they did when they were young.

Here we are, nearly two years later, and while we can pay the rent and other bills so technically we're doing better, some things are worse. Nowhere feels like home. The house on Country Club, the apartment after that, and now this place, nothing really comes close except Country Club which is remembered almost like a dream-the gorgeous sunny kitchen, the sundeck, the extra space, the view of Departure Bay... I haven't really unpacked in two years; there are no curtains on the windows, no pictures on the walls, no garden or yard to enjoy. There are no family dinners, no casual visits, no neices or nephews to play with or cousins for Gabe, no going to camp.

It feels like since we left Country Club, when everything fell apart out here, I've been looking back. I've done my best to make each place we go to feel like a home, but it hasn't-they've just been places we've lived. It's the little things, like curtains and pictures, but more than that, it's the feeling of belonging and ownership. Though we were renting back in the Sault, it was our place because it was family. Chris and Leslie never once made us feel like we were tenants.

What is a home? It's more than curtains and pictures on the wall; it's memories and the people who help you make them. I don't know if we can make a home here in BC even if we made enough money to afford a decent place. With Kevin gone, our last link to Ontario has been missing and it's been hurting ever since.

Hestia of the Hearth, hear my prayer; guide me home, wherever that may be. I am lost, facing a road with many splits. With your guidance I will choose the right Path. Let my feet find the way to bring my family peace and joy. We are weary of travel but I feel that another move is inevitable. Let it be the last one, let it be the best one. Blessed be.

Let Us Eat Cake!

Sometimes you just need a little soul-food.

5 MINUTE CHOCOLATE MUG CAKE

• 4 tablespoons flour
• 4 tablespoons sugar
• 2 tablespoons cocoa
• 1 egg
• 3 tablespoons milk
• 3 tablespoons oil
• 3 tablespoons chocolate chips (optional)
• A small splash of vanilla extract
• 1 large coffee mug (MicroSafe)

Add dry ingredients to mug, and mix well.  Add the egg and mix thoroughly.

Pour in the milk and oil and mix well.

Add the chocolate chips (if using) and vanilla extract, and mix again.

Put your mug in the microwave and cook for 3 minutes at 1000 watts.

The cake will rise over the top of the mug, but don't be alarmed!

Allow to cool a little, and tip out onto a plate if desired. 

EAT !

Chase the Rainbow

When I moved from the Soo to Nanaimo my mom wrote me a note to say all the things she couldn't say to my face about leaving. We're both criers, so I understand. I found that note today while looking for some little corner stickers for a photo album and it *still* brings tears to my eyes nearly 2 years later. She wishes me well and hopes things will turn out for us, but the phrase that's been ringing in my ears since I read it is "I hope you find the rainbow you've been chasing."

Gods. What am I DOING out here if I'm not chasing my rainbow? What have I been doing? I've been working, I've been coasting along really, and taking care of the family, but when it comes to chasing my rainbow, it hasn't been happening. What does that even mean? It means that I want a career in a social or environmental change. It means I want to be master of my own destiny and not so fucking broke all the time. It means living my life the way I want to live it, not the way I HAVE to live it. But I haven't found a way to get that career (yet), in part because I haven't been looking that hard. There were a few opportunities I applied for but none of them panned out. I settled for the FedEx job because it was good money and safe.

Safe. I'm sick and tired of safe, but it's what's best for our family. We can't be moving every 6-12 months for work or lack thereof. We need stability. Hell, *I* need it, but the 9-5, 40 hour a week career type job isn't as common as it used to be. If I found my rainbow, this is what I'd see:

Red: Passion. I would love my job. I would love what I do and it would bring out the fierceness in my soul in the best possible way.  It would speak to my warrior self and there would be honour in it.
Orange:  Confidence. I would be good at my job.
Yellow: Intellect. My job would challenge my brain in a good way, stretch it to think of old things in new ways, and new things in old ways. I would know a lot about the field and finally be able to use my degree(s).
Green: Compassion. During my work my deep empathy and compassion for the earth and/or fellow humans would come into play AND IT WOULDN'T BE A BAD THING. Infact it would be central to the other facets of the job.
Blue: Voice. During work my thoughts would be heard and respected. My powers of oratory would be used for good, to inform and to sway opinion towards a more progressive bent.
Purple: Spirit. My job would not insult my Wiccan self. Being a Pagan would be an asset, in some way. Doesn't have to be central to the role, but wouldn't be a negative. I wouldn't have to hide my faith (or sexuality) at work. My job would deepen my connection to my fellow humans and the earth itself. As above, so below. We are the Universe's way of experiencing itself.

So other than joining GreenPeace, where's this rainbow? I need a sign. I need to chase my rainbow but I need to know what that IS.

7 Sacred Values

Gikendosowin - to cherish KNOWLEDGE is to know wisdom.
Zhawendiwin - To know LOVE is to know peace.
Manaaji’owin - To honor all the creation is to have RESPECT.
Zoongidayaywin - BRAVERY is to face the foe with integrity.
Gwayakwaadizewin - HONESTY in facing a situation is to be brave.
Duhbuhsaynimoowin - HUMILITY is to know you as a sacred part of the creation.
Debwemowin - TRUTH is to know all of these things.

Norval Morrisseau's Thunderbird from 1977

 

Magic to the People

Imagine you have the feeling you need a spell, or a ritual of some kind; maybe you're down on your luck and could use a boost in prosperity, or someone you know is sick but you don't feel comfortable praying for them (for whatever reason), or maybe you just don't know how to do these things for yourself. Imagine you could walk down the street and into a shop and find someone to help you out, someone with knowledge and experience, who will gladly do it for you.

You can help fantasy become reality by supporting Magic to the People, a real, physical shop that's being developed by Drew Jacobs, adventurer and priest of all gods, in New Orleans. Drew is in the middle of his trek from Wisconsin to Rio De Janerio in Brazil and wants to give back to the city he loves so much by creating this shop and services, even for people who can't pay. I've been following Drew's writings for a couple of years now and while I don't agree with everything he's ever said or done, this is one thing I'm behind 100 percent. If you think that Drew's goal of providing face to face magic for people who need it is a good one, head on over to his Indie Go Go space and donate a couple of bucks. If you can't right now, that's alright; there's 23 days left on the campaign and you can help by spreading the word.

So there's this knighthood

A while back I noticed something new popping up on my FB feed-an ATC knighthood. I'm intrigued but I haven't 'liked' the page yet. I'm wary, honestly. The only other knighthoods I'm familiar with are the Knights Templar, and the Salvation Army. Matching faith with the sword, metaphysical or otherwise, has historically lead to a lot of death and destruction. Knighthoods are a Christian thing, a way of pushing the faith and defending it (I'm guessing from people who didn't take kindly to being forced to convert). I know that the ATC's knighthood is not going to be pushing anything because that's simply not the Wiccan way of doing things, and yes, Wicca does need defending. But a knighthood?

The ATC already is borrowing a couple of things from Christianity in order to lend itself mainstream credibility; tabernacle and church. A tabernacle is literally a dwelling place of the divine and comes from Hebrew. It's morphed in Christianity to the place where they store the body of Christ aka the communion wafers. And well, church? The word is laden with it's own baggage. From Wikipedia: A church is technically a term for a gathering of citizens in a town (origins from ancient Greek), but is commonly understood by the Christian adoption of the word as gathering of Christians in a building or structure to facilitate worship and the meeting of its members, specifically in Christianity." Many Pagans don't like the word and are uncomfortable with it. I've spoken to not a few since coming to the island and, upon hearing about the ATC and the Circle's association with it, said they were hesitant to join because of that word. We talked about this a bit one night with the Arch Priestess, Bella, and with others, and the thinking is that because Paganism, and particularly Wicca, is so new, and still so misunderstood, it's better to have that protection, that legitimacy, than not. That was the thinking 30-ish years ago, and while Wicca has come a LONG way since there, there's still a long way to go.

Another thing, for me, is the difference between 'warrior' and 'knight'. I asked my other mentor about it, the difference between the two, because I knew there WAS a difference, but I couldn't articulate it. This is what she said (posted with her permission): A knight holds loyalty to a system, to a ruler or a structure. She is bound to act a certain way in accordance with a certain code, and honor is defined by adhering to the code no matter what the circumstance. When she leads, she does so by fiat and in accordance with the law.

The warrior's loyalty is to a community or a people. Her duty is to protect those people as well as she is able. The only code of the warrior is loving service, so that circumstance may prompt actions outside the expected law, so she can't have loyalties to structures or leaders. When she leads, she does so by example.

That's it, in a nutshell. My clan is that of the warriors of the Ojibwe peoples; the marten. My names, both in Anishnabe and my secret Craft name, relate to the eagle, leader of the Bird clan. In Pathfinder and D&D, while I'm drawn to the paladin class, I've always felt the rules and oaths too confining. In my heart, I'm a warrior. My loyalty is to my community of friends and family, and to women and children who need protection and whatever loving service I can provide. I'll be watching to see what the knighthood *does*, but I'll be staying over here in the shadowy place where the forest meets the edge of the battlefield.

Oh Canada!

Well I've moved again; this is the third one in two years. The leap from Northern Ontario to Nanaimo was the biggest, obviously, and the change in the environment both drastic and not. So much of Vancouver Island reminds me of where I'll always call Home; the long, winding roads that twist and bend through rock cuts, along vast bodies of water and swift rivers. There's very little simple laying of pavement in Canada; there's a lot of blasting and filling and driving through the land instead of over it. The Canadian Shield, the Rocky Mountains, the bogs and marshes of the Hudson's Bay lowlands, the worn near-smooth Appalachians in the East and the Tongats in the North-East make it a place you have to live WITH and not just ON. Throw in literally thousands of lakes and rivers that need to be avoided or crossed and four terrific seasons in much of the country and you have a place like no other. I grew up playing around massive white pines and sugar maples, birches and aspens, white cedars and spruce. Spring came late but that unmistakable time between April and June made up for lost time. Summer was hot sand, cool water and long starry nights at a fire next to the lake. Autumn was woodsmoke up the chimney, long golden sunsets shining on the reddest leaves anywhere and all of my years ever back to school. Winter is actually what I miss most; the deep quiet and cold of true winter. Out here it's wet and alive and hummingbirds are still around. There are flowers blooming in February! It's not winter, it's a weird wet season that's the opposite of the long dry summer.

This post is nothing but a love letter to the land I miss, and that's ok.

Lake Superior at Sand River and the Bathtub Islands

D is for Divine

As covered previously I'm a devotee of Artemis, but I wasnt' always this way. My belief in the gods has morphed over the years I've been a pagan from hard polytheist to atheist to soft polytheist, which is where I sit now. How can I be both a devotee of Artemis, a singluar Goddess of a specific pantheon, AND a soft polytheist who believes that all gods are faces of one divine unity? Easy. It's faith. It doesn't always have to make sense, though it's nice when it happens.

Soft polytheists, such as myself, see the gods and goddesses as parts of a divine whole or as part of a larger God and Goddess. Many Wiccans, probably most I would guess, fall into this catagory. The God and Goddess are *all* gods and goddesses, which is why during esbats and sabbats it's normal to invoke a specific deity and follow it with the Charge of the Goddess (or God, though that's much rarer).

Stella, Sol and Luna by Selina Fenech

 Hard polytheists often make up the Reconstructionist paths, the Celtcs, Hellenics and Heathens and Asatruar. These Pagans see the Gods and Goddesses each as individual beings, powerful and alive and actually existing. Where, I'm not sure, but Somewhere. Our prayers are heard, our offerings appreciated, and it's more of an actual relationship.

It doesn't matter to me who's 'right' in their thinking. There is no right or wrong here because it can't be empirically proven either way. Proof of the gods, outside of individual experience, is not really proof at all, so it's a moot point to try and make. I'd be happy to go to a Hellenic Reconstructionist ritual sometime, as I have a feeling that I'd be quite comfortable there, just as I'm happy to be doing what I'm doing with the Aquarian Tabernacle Church and Wicca. For me there's no division or chasm between the two 'sides'. It's a non-issue, though for some Pagans I realize it's a Big Deal. 'An it harm none, do as you will' is how I choose to act here; someone choosing to believe in the Divine in their own way is none of my business and more power to them, as long as they're not hurting themselves or anyone else.

Pagan Blogging: Children

Last night I was on a Skype call with my postulancy group and mentors and during most of the first half, my daughter (5 months) was laying on the floor nearby, kicking her little legs, while wearing a set of sleigh bells. My hubby thought this was hiliarious, but I knew it was coming through loud and clear on the speakers to everyone else and asked him to take them off. He didn't, and the call continued. Later, near the end, the HPS present said that while we do these meetings we're to behave as if we're in ritual space, to go through the motions of the ritual (our Esbat piece) and say it to ourselves if we're not the ones actually saying it aloud. This gave me serious pause- my computer is currently housed at the kitchen table. For me to do that I'd be 'in Circle' where my kids are playing and my hubs is watching/reading something online or reading. It's a common use area. I said "I suppose I could go hide myself in my room" and the HPS said something that's really stuck with me. (I'm paraphrasing here)
She grew up in a family tradition, seeing ritual all the time and participating in it. If I want to bring my kids up Pagan, and I do, then stay in the kitchen and let them see me doing my thing.

She's absolutely right. This is my space too, and my beliefs and practises. I shouldn't feel like I have any reason at all to hide. I said to my hubs after the call was over that I didn't want him to feel like I was intruding on HIS space or anything (he's pretty agnostic) and he was fine with it. He's usually pretty fine with everything I do around the Circle, except watching the baby when I'm doing priestess work, so that didn't surprise me.

Gabe has been to a couple of rituals but he's more interested in running around or playing than participating, but Katherine has been going to them since she was just a couple of weeks old. Where I go, she goes, except the last 3 Sabbats. It's really really hard to Priestess with a baby in my arms, so she's been staying with hubs. She hasnt' missed an Esbat though. Part of why Gabe doesnt' come is I don't know how to include him; a lot of the themes and mysteries are over his head. Something more to think on; how to include my Children more in my Craft.

How do you include kids in your rituals, either your own or others? We say at the Circle kids are welcome, and they definitely are, but we haven't been making any attempt to make sure that if kids do show up with intent to participate and not just be 'around', they have a way to join in that's on their level. 

C is for Change

Over the years I've been an open Pagan I've been in three different circles, plus a mentor-student and student-mentor relationship. My first group's leaders were the same age I am now, putting things together on thier own, from their own hearts and minds as best they could. That circle ultimately fell apart due to infighting though I managed to come out relatively unscathed (except for maybe my deep skepticism and high walls when it comes to letting new Pagans in to my own inner barriers). Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.

After that, I kept on as a weekly student with my teacher and mentor Amanda for years, until she went away to get her Masters degree. She taught me the importance of academic rigour and figuring out sources, and of myth. We spent a lot of time on Campbell and because of her I journal to this day. When she came back from school she was inspired by a Pagan group she'd met down south and we decided to form a Pagan association, performing public rituals and having monthly brunch. Man I miss those brunches! That was my life for the next few years, and during that time our relationship morphed from mentor/student and friends to equals and friends (though I'll always look up to her and still poke my head in for guidance now and then). I also had a student of my own during that time, for a year or two  I can't quite remember, who eventually I ran out of things to teach. One Beltane we had a little ceremony for him and he 'graduated' to walking his Path on his own, but still a part of the association.

Image copyright Kyle Cardoza

 When I came to the Island I immediately touched base with a group of local Pagans who are now my Circle. My Circle, as I'm their Priestess, though that is changing too with the move to Victoria next month. The thing that hasn't changed through all of these years and different faces is the feeling I have when I'm with 'my people'; it comes very close to family, and sometimes crosses right into it. The companionship and trust, the comraderie all comes through clear as daylight when we stand together to honour the Sacred and connect with it in a way our ancestors used to every day.

She changes everything she touches
and everything she touches changes
Changes! Touches! Everything She touches changes!

Revisiting A~Artemis

Continuing on with the Pagan Blog Project, I realized that I missed something important with A; my matron Goddess Artemis.

 

From the beginning of my Pagan journey, even before that actually, I've been interested in the Greek Gods. Their stories are as varied as the characters, and there's something very human about them. They have joys and sorrows, embarassments, failures and triumphs just like we do. Back in grade 7 I found the most amazing book of myths in my school's library with a full sized family tree in the front cover pages. I took that book out soooo many times that year and I even did my oral on some of the Greek Gods. The one who grabbed my attention most strongly and has held it since is Artemis.

Artemis is the daughter of Zues and the Titan Leto, twin older sister to Apollo, goddess of the hunt, wild places and animals, young girls, childbirth (for aiding in the delivery of her brother) and later became associated with the moon (in some places/traditions replacing Selene). She is known for her love of freedom, her skill with a bow, her virginity and her swift punishment against those who cross her (though to be fair, most of the Greek Gods are quick to punish those who cross them). She was good friends with the hunter Orion who she was tricked into killing by her brother Apollo (at least that's one version of the story), and was much loved throughout wide areas of the ancient world. Her temple was one of the Seven Wonders and someday I'm going to get there and leave an offering, even though there's only one column left standing. 

What draws me most to her is her individuality, her 'doing it my way or no way' attitude, and her insistence that she be treated as an equal to her brother Apollo and the other Gods. I wouldn't say that Artemis is a feminist, I wont presume to know her mind, but she's become an icon for some of us. Aretmis is a warrior; She doesn't look for fights but fiercely protects what's hers. She doesn't hesitate to punish those who wrong her, as I said earlier, but she can also be a helpful deity. She sided with the Trojans during their war and is known in several myths to help those abandoned or oppressed. That speaks to me as well.

When I'm looking for the strength to make the hard decisions, I look to Artemis. When I'm looking for inspiration to stand up and speak out against inequality and injustice, I let Artemis guide my words. If I knew more about the Hellenic way of doing things I'd figure out how to 'properly' honour her on a regular basis, but as it is I dont' really have any guidance. Plus, my views as a soft polytheist (all deities are reflections and part of one larger divine presence) doesn't work with hardcore Hellenic Reconstructionism. Still, it's worth investigating!

Pagan Blogging Week 2-Athame

Altar tools are one thing I think every Pagan has in common. Every tradition has their own tools for honouring Deity, directing energy, consecration, etc. In Wicca the most common tools are the chalice, pentacle, wand, and athame. When I first became Pagan I was excited by all the new stuff (shallow, I know!) and was determined to set up an altar as soon as possible. The top of one of my dressers was cleared off and I added what I could scrounge from home; an unused wineglass was my chalice, a teacup saucer was my pentacle, some plain stones were painted with elemental markings for each quarter, and various pretty semi-precious stones were added for flair. What I lacked, however, was a wand or athame. It's not like my parents had a spare dull knife just laying around, so I headed down to the mall looking for one.

The Soo isn't a big city, so the selection is limited when it comes to places to find magical tools. At the time I think the only shop in town was The Zodiac Circle, and I didnt' even know it existed. I ended up in The Keyman; they specialize in cutting keys and engraving things, including pen-knives, letter openers and mugs. The athame I bought and use to this day is actually a letter opener, and a really ugly one at that. So ugly, infact, and so rushed was the purchase that I didn't realize how ugly it was until later, that I covered the hilt in green embroidery thread and painted black what was left. Fugliest. Athame. Ever.

Every time I use it I'm reminded of the importance of taking my time and making sure I feel right about things before proceeding. It's a perfectly serviceable tool, so I wont be getting a new one any time soon (plus money is tight and I can't justify buying something like this that will put us back when I don't need too) but I really think I'm more of a wand person. I perfer the feel of wood to steel or stone, and would honestly love a staff. Until such time as my athame leaves on its own, however, it's mine for keeps.

What about you? What was your first tool? Most memorable? Wand or athame? Do they do the same thing, just differently, or should you have one of each?

Pagan Blog Project Week 1! Redecorating

 It's been a while since writing, as usual, and a lot's been happening spiritually for me. The Circle is doing well, and my experiences with the same are interesting to say the least. I'm become more adept and more comfortable with drawing down the Goddess, and with the ritual structure itself. At first I thought it was stuffy and overly formal, but now I get it. Each piece is important, and all together it makes for a whole ritual that flows beautifully from one part to the next. I still have no idea how to reconcile the part of me that wants to be a Hellenic Reconstructionist but is also a very very soft polytheist, as well as someone who honours and follows what I learned in the Ojibwe Mide lodge. This is what it really means to be an eclectic Pagan, honestly; not grabbing whatever I want from various traditions and smashing them together into various rituals, but to find a way to honour each piece and create a harmonious whole.  I once described finding Paganism as coming home, and then being welcomed in the lodge as finding my own special room in that home. Now comes the organization and decoration of that room, putting each thing just so. I'm looking forward to it.