On this day when we honor Dr. King, I am reminded of something that Starhawk wrote:
The power of our outer work in the world depends on the depths of our connection to the springs of life that feed us. To make our work effective, and to say sane while doing it, we need a strong, daily personal practice.
Mine, these days, is to feed the birds in my bare feet, even when it's v cold out on the deck, to carry a mug of hot coffee into my ritual room, move my old bones into a sitting position on the yoga blanket on the floor before my altar, ground and connect with this tiny bit of Potomac watershed, light the candles and incense, call the Elements, call the Goddesses with whom I'm in deepest relationship, cast a circle, and say the Ha Prayer. Then, I cleanse my chakras and run the Iron Pentacle. If I have time, or need, I go to my Place of Power and either do magic or get a message. Then, I thank the Goddesses and the Elements and open my circle.
It's all real; it's all metaphor. There's always more.
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 . . . ."