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