Balance. Only Two Days Out of Three Hundred Sixty Five
My circle won't be celebrating until the Full Moon tomorrow night -- insane career bitches, we're huge adherents of the "three days rule" -- but I couldn't let today pass without a post for Eostara. When I was a good Catholic girl, Easter week, and the passion leading up to the crucifixion, was the most important part of my spiritual life.
Today, excommunicate that I am, dark and light hang in the balance. Tomorrow morning, when I wake early to finish preparing my home for Eostara observances and run out early to buy a birthday cake for my brilliant friend, E, the light will, for half the year, begin to win the contest. My yard is already showing that it's Spring, filled with hellebore, crocus, daffodils, bluebells, lilacs, woad, mint, sweet woodruff, grass.
Early this evening I walked barefoot all over my yard, out to the far southwest corner to pick forsythia and over to the southeast corner to pick jonquils. Sun in Pisces, I experience the world through my feet. Through my bare feet. Through my naked, bare feet, walking upon the wet, muddy, spring ground. The muddy ground made of decomposed oak and maple leaves and acorns on top of clay.
The muddy ground upon which I would rather walk, barefoot, than upon any carpet anywhere, in the world. I am a manifestation of the Goddess. May it be so for you. Balance. It's such a lovely trick!
I'm a woman, a Witch, a mother, a grandmother, an eco-feminist, a gardener, a reader, a writer, and a priestess of the Great Mother Earth. Hecate appears in the
Homeric Ode to Demeter, which tells of Hades who caught Persophone
"up reluctant on his golden car and bare her away lamenting. . . . But no one, either of the deathless gods or of mortal men, heard her voice, nor yet the olive-trees bearing rich fruit: only tenderhearted Hecate, bright-coiffed, the daughter of Persaeus, heard the girl from her cave . . . ."