Mystery

Religion is Revelation:
all the Wonders of the Planets striking
all your Only Mind.

Guard the Mysteries:
Constantly reveal Them!

~Lew Welch in Earth Prayers from Around the World, edited by Elizabeth Roberts and Elias Amidon


Various forms of Paganism are sometimes described as "mystery religions" or are taught at "mystery schools." Wikipedia says that:

The mystery cults offered a niche for the preservation of archaic religious ritual, and there is reason to assume that they were very conservative. The Eleusian Mysteries persisted for more than a millennium, more likely close to two millennia, during which period the ritual of public religion changed significantly, from the archaic cult of the Bronze to Early Iron Age to the Hero cult of Hellenistic civilization and again to the imperial cult of the Roman era, while the ritual performances of the mysteries for all we know remained unchanged. . . . "They were singularly persistent. The mysteries at Eleusis near Athens lasted for a thousand years; and there is reason to believe that they changed little during that long period." For this reason, what glimpses we do have of the older Greek mysteries have been taken as reflecting certain archaic aspects of common Indo-European religion, with parallels in Indo-Iranian religion in particular.

The mystery cults of Greco-Roman antiquity include the Eleusinian Mysteries, the Dionysian Mysteries, the Orphic Mysteries and the Mithraic Mysteries.

I consider there to be two great Mysteries that are central to my practice, although they are not Mysteries in the sense of being kept secret from those who are not initiated. The first is described in the Charge of the Goddess:

And you who seek to know Me, know that the seeking and yearning will avail you not, unless you know the Mystery: for if that which you seek, you find not within yourself, you will never find it without.

For behold, I have been with you from the beginning, and I am That which is attained at the end of desire.

The second is the Mystery that so many mystics have tried to describe or discuss and that, at its mysterious heart, really cannot be discussed, but only experienced. It is the Mystery that, when we manage to wipe away from our eyes what one speaker described as the "enchantment of forgetfullness," we realize that everything is everything. It's all, to paraphrase J. D. Salinger, just Goddess pouring Goddess into Goddess. Or, as Alexander Pope explained:

All are but parts of one stupendous whole,
Whose body Nature is, and God the soul.
An Essay on Man [sic], 1734

What mysteries are at the core of your practice?

Picture found here.

Tween Two Worlds

My Brilliant Friend, Amy

It's Still A Justification For Murder

She's a witch!

Sorrow's Song

Even Though You Have Broken Your Vows A Thousand Times

Thinking about a get together with some magical women coming up in a few weeks where we'll be discussing, inter alia, our daily practice, I think that the story of my daily practice can be summed up in a poem by Rumi:

Wanderers, worshippers, lovers of leaving!
Even though you have broken your vows a thousand times,
Come! Yet again, come, come.
Ours is not a caravan of despair.

With my Moon in drifty Pisces, my Ascendent in flighty Gemini, and my Moon in lazy Taurus, it's not as if I am ideally aspected for a practice that requires attention, dedication, focus. And, yet, over and over -- often enough to have almost worn a groove in the pine floors of my ritual room -- I lower my old and creaky body to the floor, sit at my low altar, light the candles, light the incense, shake the seed pod rattle. Over and over, until I imagine that they all laugh, as in the LeGuin story, "Oh, it's that one again," I call the Elements, my allies, the 4 Goddesses with whom I work. Over and over, even when it takes long minutes to bring my monkey mind back, back, back, a thousand times, back to the breathing exercises, I remember: Mine is not a caravan of despair.

Do you have a daily practice? What is it? What is it that keeps you coming back? What would get you to return to it?

Picture found here.

Sunday Dance Blogging

Dear Weather Gods,

Just a suggestion.

Love,

Hecate


PS Thank you for the rain we got yesterday. Please send more.

Burying Druids

I admit that I love cemeteries, not only for the interesting "feel" of most of them, but also for the art and the history. Here's an interesting article by the caretaker of Tulocay Cemetery in Napa Valley, California. (Who gets to live on the grounds. Sounds like fun!)

OK, now about those Druids. The United Ancient Order of Druids peaked at about 30,000 members in the 1920s. Northern California, especially Marin County, was a hotbed of Druid activity.

At one time, Napa had two “Groves,” the name for local chapters. Seems the ancient Druid priests met in groves of large trees. Which brings up an important point; many of these groups had what I call a “mythic” history that was very distinct from their empirically based history. A groups’ “mythic” history was the source of their values, practices, rituals, etc. The U.A.O.D. did not directly descend from the Druids. They simply drew their culture from this group-myth of ancient Celtic priests.
Many societies conveniently conflated their “mythic” and empirically history and would have the outsider believe they’re the same. They’re not. There’s still an active Druid “grove” in Novato. Tulocay has it’s own designated Druid section, the William Tell Grove, No. 77. Tulocay is home to 10-12 definitively marked Druid graves.

He might be surprised how many Druids there really are in Northern California these days.

Of course, some Pagans want their remains to rest (often as ashes) in a garden, a grove, the Sea. And some may choose an explicitly Pagan cemetery. We've seen Wiccan headstones at Arlington and there are movements to allow headstones for a number of other Pagan denominations at Arlington, as well. But it's fascinating to consider that there's a long history of allowing Pagan-themed headstones in private cemeteries. One wonders what the reaction would be today to a family wanting to place a headstone with a pentacle and the three-headed Goddess Hecate, for example, upon their loved one's grave.

Picture found here.

Religious OR Pagan?

The NYT has an interesting article about the impact on art viewers of security alarms that beep when people get too close to a work of art, in this case, the famous Unicorn Tapestries at the Cloisters in New York. (And these tapestries -- likely created by women -- are amazing; if you ever get a chance to see them, take it!) Fair enough, until you get to the article's description of the Unicorn Tapestries.

Each of the four tapestries depicts an episode in the story of a lone unicorn that is hunted in a forest and eventually killed — a visual narrative rich with religious, pagan or mythological imagery (depending on which scholar one asks). The ambiguity of the imagery, and the vivid details of the weaving — one tapestry shows the unicorn surrounded by a thousand little flowers — explain why visitors to that display want to get near it.

Religious or [small "p"] pagan? Really? Come on.

What the author means to say is that the symbols are seen by some as xian and by some as Pagan. Paganism has always been a form of religious expression, and was so when xians began adopting many of Paganism's symbols, holidays, and sacred sites as their own. Sad to see an otherwise intersting article marred by flat-out ignorance and prejudice.

I'm not even going to start in on calling other people's religions "myths."

Picture found here.

Saturday Poetry Blogging/Rain Spell

We overcome this wind.
We desire the rain to fall,
that it be poured in showers quickly.
Ah, thou rain, I adjure thee fall.
If thou rainest, it is well.
A drizzling confusion.
If it rains and our food ripes, it is well.
If the young men sing, it is well.
A drizzing confusion.
If our grain ripens, it is well.
If our women rejoice,
If the children rejoice, if the young men sing,
If the aged rejoice,
An overflowing in the granary.
A torent in flow.
If the wind veers to the south, it is well.
If the rain veers to the south, it is well.

~John S. Mbiti in Earth Prayers from Around the World, edited by Elizabeth Roberts and Elias Amidon

Picture found here.

The Craft Of Craft

In The Knitting Sutra: Craft as a Spiritual Practice, feminist author Susan G. Lydon writes that:

Knitting grounds me in the realness of the physical world. The feel of the yarn in my fingers, the steady growth of the fabric, the soothing click of the needles, the attention required to stay on course all help to hold me close to terra firma. Though mind and spirit travel in the cosmos, beyond the moon and stars, my body stays rooted in comforting solidity. I've come to appreciate solidity in these last few years, to value strength, an unshakable core.

Some days, I luxuriate in solitude like a cat basking in the sun. I've fallen in love with the whole of creation, the redwood trees, the fingers of fog, raptors tracing circles in the sky. I'm living a life I always imagined but never knew how to find.

I've been thinking a bit lately (often while knitting -- a beloved friend is having a baby, I'm finishing up an Autumn-colored sweater for G/Son, I'm starting to think about holiday knitting (last year, I made hats for the men in my family and scarves for the women; this year, I'm thinking of cowls for the men and hats for the women)) about the relationship between craft (which, in my case is knitting, but in yours might be beading or basket weaving or crafting amazing cocktails or macrame -- does anyone still do macrame?) and my spirituality. And, of course, Wicca is sometimes known as the Craft of the Wise.

I like the way that knitting weaves me into a many-thousand-year-old circle of women, women who, even when they could sit down and "relax," kept their hands busy making things to keep their family warm. Knitting is generally passed literally and physically from woman to woman: mother to daughter, aunt to niece, teacher to student.* I suppose it's theoretically possible to learn to knit by reading a book or watching a video, but I don't know anyone who learned it that way.

I learned to knit, when I was in my early teens, from an old woman in our church named Mrs. Williams. She was an amazing knitter! When Son was born, she made him a cardigan and beret that I passed on to G/Son. I don't know who taught her to knit, but I like to send my gratitude back through that line, from me to Mrs. Williams, to whoever taught her, to whoever taught her . . . whenever I pick up my projects. If women had been taught to value their own skills, maybe knitters would be required to recite their lineage when they learned their craft, honoring the names of productive craftswomen long gone. My grandma crocheted, and I treasure an afghan she made for me. Her craft links me back to her and reminds me of her love every time I snuggle under her handiwork.

In Sacred Circles: A Guide to Creating Your Own Women's Spirituality Group, Robin Deen Carnes and Sally Craig note that women's spirituality:

is rooted in the daily experience of being a woman, whether we are cultivating herbs or cooking with them, diapering a baby, giving a presentation, or dressing for a formal dance.

I think that's right, or, at least, that women's spirituality should be rooted in our daily experiences. Knitting is part of my (almost) daily experience and so it makes sense for it to play a role in my spirituality.

I also practice a simple form of protection spell whenever I knit something. I weave my intention for safety and warmth (for whoever will wear my knitting) directly into the ribbing, the knitting and purling, the twisting cables, the oh-so-time-consuming seed stitches. I cast on repeating the spell I've made and focus on a visual picture of my intention each time I turn a row (or hit the marker on circular needles).

What's your craft? Who taught it to you? What role does it play in your spiritual life?

*I do know that some men knit and that's great. But it is, still, a craft practiced overwhelmingly by women.

Hail Kupala

Here's a charming article about Ivana Kupala, a Ukrainian holiday celebrated with bonfires and flower wreaths, after the summer solstice, usually on the night of July 6.

The name Kupala refers to the god of fruits of the earth. His holiday is considered to be one of the most magical ones in the Ukrainian calendar. Fortune-telling, jumping over cleansing fires and other mystical rituals have traditionally been part of it. . . . Olena Didiuk, who had done a bachelor degree paper on pagan holidays assimilated by the Christian tradition, explained how the name Ivan merged with the holiday. “Christianity was brought on the Ukrainian land against the will of pagan people, and the church needed to set new holidays on top of the old ones. So today people have a choice whether to celebrate Ivan the Baptist’s day, or the day of Kupala,” she said.

Picture from the article; there are several really lovely ones.

Finding Our Missing Pieces

Which, of course, reminds me of this:

Let The Annual War To Enforce Xmas Commence!

Here's an interesting article about Leesburg, Virginia, struggling amidst the Summer heat over what to do about displays on government property, come next December.

When the Courthouse Ground and Facilities Committee voted last November to prohibit all displays on the lawn of the courts complex in Leesburg it sparked an outrage from a number of residents and community groups, spurring the Board of Supervisors to quickly reverse that action during a special meeting only weeks before the December holidays.

As a result, several traditional Christmas displays, along with a couple aimed at testing the boundaries of free speech demonstrations, were erected in Courthouse Square.

While dormant, the controversy has not been settled.

This week, the courthouse committee urged supervisors to reinstate its prohibition on displays so that government leaders won't be in the position of determining which requests are for "appropriate" use of the grounds and which are not.

. . .

The board's compromise policy that has been in place since December allows 10 display areas on the courthouse grounds, with one display per area, and applications are reviewed on a first-come, first-serve basis.

By changing the committee's policy, supervisors allowed the annual placement of a Christmas tree and creche in the square, as well as a display by Loudoun Interfaith Bridges that included a Menorah, crescent, and Sikh display, a banner from the Freedom From Religion Foundation and [a] mocking of the "12 Days of Christmas" from Sugarland Run resident Edward R. Myers.

. . .

[Some] supervisors were not happy that the committee was pushing for the same policy that had caused residents to get upset in the first place. Supervisor Eugene Delgaudio (R-Sterling) said a lot of work already had gone into examining the role of citizen advisory committees by an ad hoc board committee in the board's first year in office.

"I am not against discussing the policy change, but frankly we've already done a lot of work," Delgaudio said. "These citizens are really truly devoted to something that we are truly devoted to in an opposite direction. They are acting in a way that I think is contrary to our position."

By consensus, a majority of the board agreed to take up the recommended policy changes at its next business meeting.

Honest to Goddess. With all the budget shortfalls and other problems we've got here in the Old Dominion, I wish our government officials would quit wasting time and just announce that government facilities are not an appropriate place for religious displays. People who want to erect religious displays in their yards, on their church grounds, on their privately-owned shopping malls, etc., knock your socks off. The more the merrier. Let a million flowers bloom. Government property has a different purpose.

However, as long as this nonsense goes on, I hope the Leesburg Pagans get in an early application for a Yule display

Even If We're Just Dancing In The Dark

In Kissing the Hag: The Dark Goddess & the Unacceptable Nature of Woman, Druid priest Emma Restall Orr writes:

[D]arkness is not evil; it is simply the not knowing. Throughout the history of our people, as far back as stories allow we see evidence that some have explored the power of the dark. In the long barrows and passage graves of Britain and Ireland, five to eight thousand years old, we find clues as to how peoples reached out to understand the forces of darknesss and death that loomed over them. . . . [I]t isn't just courage that is needed. Courage often comes with limited sensitivity. It takes a mindset that is willing to perceive and accept the unknown, the unknowable, that which is almot unthinkable, and find a language to explain [that] to those who can't.

Looking into our own dark places (part of the work of a Witch) is, I think similar. Courage is needed, but also an ability to come back and translate and explain to our Talking Selves -- our active-in-the-world rational selves -- what it is that we've discovered in the dark. And then to figure out what to do about it. I find that, when trying to help my Talking Self to use what I've learned in the dark, sitting in meditation helps. Journaling helps. And then, letting the images, dreams, odd phrases and feelings just sit (maybe my grandma would have said "letting them gell") is what really helps.

Picture found here.

How do you help all of your "selves" to integrate wisdom about your dark spaces?

Summer In The City

Every Winter, I work to try and appreciate that season for what it is. I admit, I still have a ways to go. Generally, by February, I'm so hungry for the sight of something green and growing, for the feel of sunshine on my skin, for the ability to go outside w/o layers and layers of clothing that I could scream. But I try, every year I try.

The intense heat we've been experiencing (coughglobalclimatechangecough) here in the MidAtlantic is something else. Here is my list of things I enjoy about a heat wave:

1. Iced tea tastes even more wonderful.

2. The birds and chipmunks are so happy when I turn on the sprinkler that I can't help but be happy with them (even as I contemplate the water bill that I'll be getting this quarter).

3. Deep shade.

4. Fruit smoothies for dinner because it's too hot to cook.

5. Since I have to be inside, I've been watching things to keep me cool: several episodes of Dark Shadows (That mansion always seemed to me to be icy cold in spite of the constant fires in the fireplaces. Also Quentin Collins always gives me the chills.), Dr. Zhivago, Heidi, Dark Victory.

6. Instant topic for elevator chat; people never get tired of talking about the weather.

7. Watching the rosemary plants go, "Ah, yesssssssss!"

8. The way it feels at about 5:00 am, before the "real" heat starts, when I step outside to water, and the serious joggers, walkers, dog owners are out and about.

9. Long, cool baths with pineapple sage leaves. Drying off in front of the fan afterwards.

10. And, when all else fails: coffee ice cream.


What do you do to enjoy hot weather?

Spells For Democracy

A sad note from Phaedra Bonewits to the Spells for Democracy group:

As you all know (or I hope you know), this group was founded by Isaac Bonewits as a way of coordinating major spellcastings in the service of the democratic process.

As you also all know (or I hope you know), Isaac is now gravely ill. He is no longer online, nor is he likely to be again.

As of July 13, 2010, Phaedra is converting the Spells for Democracy list to "read only"; current members may set up a new group with a similar name.

Isaac has been such an important force in modern Paganism. May his final days be a blessing.

At The Dawning Of This New Day

Dear Weather Gods,

Love,

Hecate

Sunday Dance Blogging

Talks With G/Son

The anniversary of my mother's death occurred a few weeks ago, and I think G/Son had heard his 'rents mention it. He and Son were over eating crabs on my porch while DiL was at a conference, and G/Son asked me about it, saying, "Nonna, were you there in the hospital when my great grandma died, before I was born?" And I said, "No, I wasn't there." G/Son said, "My Mommy was there, instead, holding her hand." I said, "She was. Your Mommy is very kind, isn't she?" and G/Son nodded seriously.

A few days later, I was driving him home and he said, "Nonna, is your Nonna dead?" and I said, "Yes, my Nonna lived to be almost a hundred, but then her heart got tired out and quit beating, so she went to the Summerlands." G/Son said, "The same Summerlands as your cat?" and I had to laugh because my grandma really hated cats. But Miss Thing always reminded me a lot of my grandma.

Somehow, I started telling G/Son what I remember about my grandma: that she cut out tons of paper dolls for me when I was little, played the organ for her Methodist church, grew African violets like nobody's business, made delicious lemon meringue pie and a kind of candy called divinity, taught me how to sew, and sewed me a flannel nightgown every year for xmas, to keep me warm.

G/Son said, "Just like you make me sweaters to keep me warm."

I said, "That's right. I think it just makes Nonnas feel good to think about our grandchildren being warm." Then, I said, "What I believe is that whatever is remembered, does not die, so I like to get a chance to remember my Nonna with you. Maybe even after I've gone to the Summerlands, you can remember my Nonna wanting to keep me warm."

G/Son said, "Why you think what is remembered does not die?" and I said, "Well, it feels to me as if, as long as people remember some good things about you, in some way, you are still here. When I remember my Nonna making pies and growing violets and making me nightgowns, it feels to me a little bit as if part of her is still alive in my memory."

I have a lot of good times with this kid. He's got an old, old soul.

Picture found here.

Sunday Garden Blogging

This is the "blackest" of the black day lilies in my garden.



Info on black plants here, here, and here.

Photo by the author. If you copy, please link back.

Independence Day Poetry Blogging

America

BY ALLEN GINSBERG

America I’ve given you all and now I’m nothing.
America two dollars and twentyseven cents January 17, 1956.
I can’t stand my own mind.
America when will we end the human war?
Go fuck yourself with your atom bomb.
I don’t feel good don’t bother me.
I won’t write my poem till I’m in my right mind.
America when will you be angelic?
When will you take off your clothes?
When will you look at yourself through the grave?
When will you be worthy of your million Trotskyites?
America why are your libraries full of tears?
America when will you send your eggs to India?
I’m sick of your insane demands.
When can I go into the supermarket and buy what I need with my good looks?
America after all it is you and I who are perfect not the next world.
Your machinery is too much for me.
You made me want to be a saint.
There must be some other way to settle this argument.
Burroughs is in Tangiers I don’t think he’ll come back it’s sinister.
Are you being sinister or is this some form of practical joke?
I’m trying to come to the point.
I refuse to give up my obsession.
America stop pushing I know what I’m doing.
America the plum blossoms are falling.
I haven’t read the newspapers for months, everyday somebody goes on trial for murder.
America I feel sentimental about the Wobblies.
America I used to be a communist when I was a kid I’m not sorry.
I smoke marijuana every chance I get.
I sit in my house for days on end and stare at the roses in the closet.
When I go to Chinatown I get drunk and never get laid.
My mind is made up there’s going to be trouble.
You should have seen me reading Marx.
My psychoanalyst thinks I’m perfectly right.
I won’t say the Lord’s Prayer.
I have mystical visions and cosmic vibrations.
America I still haven’t told you what you did to Uncle Max after he came over from Russia.
I’m addressing you.
Are you going to let your emotional life be run by Time Magazine?
I’m obsessed by Time Magazine.
I read it every week.
Its cover stares at me every time I slink past the corner candystore.
I read it in the basement of the Berkeley Public Library.
It’s always telling me about responsibility. Businessmen are serious. Movie producers are serious. Everybody’s serious but me.
It occurs to me that I am America.
I am talking to myself again.

Asia is rising against me.
I haven’t got a chinaman’s chance.
I’d better consider my national resources.
My national resources consist of two joints of marijuana millions of genitals an unpublishable private literature that jetplanes 1400 miles an hour and twentyfive-thousand mental institutions.
I say nothing about my prisons nor the millions of underprivileged who live in my flowerpots under the light of five hundred suns.
I have abolished the whorehouses of France, Tangiers is the next to go.
My ambition is to be President despite the fact that I’m a Catholic.

America how can I write a holy litany in your silly mood?
I will continue like Henry Ford my strophes are as individual as his automobiles more so they’re all different sexes.
America I will sell you strophes $2500 apiece $500 down on your old strophe
America free Tom Mooney
America save the Spanish Loyalists
America Sacco & Vanzetti must not die
America I am the Scottsboro boys.
America when I was seven momma took me to Communist Cell meetings they sold us garbanzos a handful per ticket a ticket costs a nickel and the speeches were free everybody was angelic and sentimental about the workers it was all so sincere you have no idea what a good thing the party was in 1835 Scott Nearing was a grand old man a real mensch Mother Bloor the Silk-strikers’ Ewig-Weibliche made me cry I once saw the Yiddish orator Israel Amter plain. Everybody must have been a spy.
America you don’t really want to go to war.
America its them bad Russians.
Them Russians them Russians and them Chinamen. And them Russians.
The Russia wants to eat us alive. The Russia’s power mad. She wants to take our cars from out our garages.
Her wants to grab Chicago. Her needs a Red Reader’s Digest. Her wants our auto plants in Siberia. Him big bureaucracy running our fillingstations.
That no good. Ugh. Him make Indians learn read. Him need big black niggers. Hah. Her make us all work sixteen hours a day. Help.
America this is quite serious.
America this is the impression I get from looking in the television set.
America is this correct?
I’d better get right down to the job.
It’s true I don’t want to join the Army or turn lathes in precision parts factories, I’m nearsighted and psychopathic anyway.
America I’m putting my queer shoulder to the wheel.

Berkeley, January 17, 1956


Picture found here.

My New Name For A Blog

What Thorn Coyle Said:

We have a lot of work to do, people. We still tear each other down too much, rather than lifting each other up. [Which may say more about our own shadows than anything else.] We still fight for petty positions rather than coming into our deep power and recognizing the power we see in each other. This is changing, blessed be, and I hope to continue working with those of you who are active in this change. I saw a lot of this sort of change at Pagan Spirit Gathering last week. I encounter it in other places where I travel and teach. I encounter the desire for this from people in my spiritual direction practice. It is my deep work to foster integration within myself and amongst those who are drawn into my circles. It is our deep work to shine like the stars that we are.
Would I ever want to host a television show? Perhaps. Teaching a million people how to align their souls intrigues me. Fostering spiritual dialog from a larger platform might be a good thing. Am I willing to compromise my core mission in order to get a television show? No. That sort of compromise is a compromise of my Being, of the Work of this God, and of my True Will. So, I did not make a video for Oprah. But I plan to make a video for you.

Look on YouTube in the coming months. All of this has inspired me to finally start videocasts to alternate with my audio podcasts. Just some short meditations, and answering questions you or I are grappling with. Something simple. Something to help us connect and reintegrate.

Meanwhile, let us continue to find ways to step up to beauty together. Let us continue to find ways to walk in strength. Let us open to amazement at this world, this cosmos. Let us amaze one another.

As I noted in comments to Thorn's post, I've long believed that YouTube is an under-utilized resource for Pagans. Many of us can't or won't (/raises INTJ hand) get to Pagan festivals, but we can be inspired in our own daily practices by Pagan teachers. I don't spend all of my day thinking about Pagan topics, spirituality, magick. I spend a big chunk of it thinking about law, legal prose, statutory interpretation. So I'm thirsty to hear from people, like Thorn, who have spent most of their time absorbing, thinking about, digesting Pagan topics, spirituality, magick. YouTube is easy, fast, cheap, and can be watched over and over in order to really grock the main points. I'd love it if, when I searched "Wicca" on YouTube I found more people of Thorn's calibre.

Picture found here.

Turn, Turn, Turn.

All The Senses, And The Extra Sacred Thing

Mudpies

I don't kid myself that, as his Nonna, I'm going to be the biggest influence on G/Son's life. Heck, I'd be ecstatic if I wind up being half as big an influence as Batman and Spiderman. But one thing I'm determined to do is to help him to be out in nature, even when that means out in the wading pool in my back yard, floating mint leaves in the water. (His 'rents are even better at this than I am. Hiking is one of their main family activities, and they kayak whenever they're down at DiL's folks' place on the river. I wasn't good about getting Son outside. Their love of nature is, I guess, like playing the balalikya -- a gift.)

I do think that JMG is right; the "good times" as we've defined them, based upon cheap energy, are likely not coming back. I worry about what G/Son's future will be. But if, along with the difficulties that change will bring, people can re-engage with nature, maybe it won't be all bad. My goal for my time w/ G/Son is to gently invite him into that communication, to introduce him to all that I know of the Divine.

Elements: Earth

As my v creative friend, K, recently pointed out in comments, visiting the farmers' market is a good way, especially for urban Pagans, to stay in touch with the seasons. There are several quite good farmers' markets near where I live and work; the Falls Church Farmers' Market is one of my favorites. I was there early this morning, sampling peaches and cherries, catching up on civic gossip, and buying tomatoes and mozzarella (Blue Ridge Dairy Company; if you live around here, you'll thank me!).

Sometimes, simple is best.

I slice the tomatoes, drizzle some balsamic vinegar and olive oil, add Genovese basil from the herb bed, crack some pepper, and sprinkle some marigold petals.

Photos by the author. If you copy, please link back.

Saturday Poetry Blogging

Little Summer Poem Touching the Subject of Faith

~Mary Oliver

Every summer
I listen and look
under the sun's brass and even
into the moonlight, but I can't hear

anything, I can't see anything --
not the pale roots digging down, nor the green stalks muscling up,
nor the leaves
deepening their damp pleats,

nor the tassels making,
nor the shucks, nor the cobs.
And still,
every day,

the leafy fields
grow taller and thicker --
green gowns lofting up in the night,
showered with silk.

And so, every summer,
I fail as a witness, seeing nothing --
I am deaf too
to the tick of the leaves,

the tapping of downwardness from the banyan feet --
all of it
happening
beyond any seeable proof, or hearable hum.

And, therefore, let the immeasurable come.
Let the unknowable touch the buckle of my spine.
Let the wind turn in the trees,
and the mystery hidden in the dirt

swing through the air.
How could I look at anything in this world
and tremble, and grip my hands over my heart?
What should I fear?

One morning
in the leafy green ocean
the honeycomb of the corn's beautiful body
is sure to be there.

Picture found here.


I've posted this poem before; it's one of my absolute favorites. It helps me to remember what's really important. Is there a poem or a saying that does that for you?

Magic To Do

I like this definition of magic:

Magic is the art of sensing patterns, following the energy, and doing it all while staying centered and tapped into your creativity. What emerges is total transformation. What can also emerge is a very practical application of all that esoteric stuff, a vehicle through which we can use our whole skill set to bring positive change to the greatest number of people, while living by our core values. In other words, a very cool business.

If you've read my posts for a while, you know that one of my recurring themes is that Witchcraft should make one more effective in the real world. It's frustrating to me to see so many Witches and Pagans whose lives just don't work. Can't hold a job even in a good economy. Don't have a clean, safe, nurturing living space. Have serious health problems that they don't address. Can't manage their finances. Don't really have a working daily practice. And, IMHO, there's a circular effect. When my life doesn't work, it's more difficult for me to sense patterns, follow energy, stay centered, and do magic.

It's high Summer, and one should always make hay while the sun shines. And, the Moon is waning, a good time to get rid of clutter and chaos in all its forms.

Christine Kane (at 6/30/10) has some great suggestions for gaining control of your living space.

Thorn Coyle (at 6/28/10) has a very inspiring podcast up about caring for your physical body -- your main instrument for doing magic.

Many of us have a three-day weekend coming up. What one thing could you accomplish this weekend that would put you in a better place to do magic?

Picture found here.

Most Pagans Live In Urban Areas

How much nature can you relate to in your urban landbase?

Friday Garden Blogging

A few of the daylilies. We planted Sir Mordred, Bela Lugosi, Satan's Kiss.

Most Witches Live In Urban Areas

Enjoy.

It's Elemental

My great luxury this Summer is water.

A year ago, Landscape Guy put in trees, dozens of gardenia bushes, hundreds of day lilies, lots and lots of toad lilies, butterbur, and ferns. Then, the blizzards of early 2010 hit and damaged quite of bit of what we'd done. Now, we're in the middle of a quite dry Summer. And, so, I water.

I do have a rain barrel and it helps quite a bit. Every morning and twice every evening, I move the hose to a different spot to drain the water onto another dry area in the garden. And, then, I turn on the sprinkler. I've been packing lunches, doing w/o much air conditioning, foregoing new clothes to pay for the water. It's what I really want.

In the Winter, my great luxury is often Fire, in the form of gas heat, although I also luxuriate in knitted covers (Earth) and hot baths (Water, Fire), warm soups (Earth), and the scent of dried herbs (Earth, Air).

What elemental luxuries do you enjoy this time of year?

It Rhymes!

Kagan the Pagan.

Isn't that funny? No, it's not.

Course, his name is "Savage." Just saying.

Goddess, I wish she were a radical leftist, but this is just more Overton Window work. The radical right never takes a day off.

Merlin's Time

You should go read The Arch Druid Report.

First Of The Month Bazooms Blogging

Ladies! Listen up! Detecting breast cancer early is the key to surviving it! Breast Self Exams (BSEs) can help you to detect breast cancer in its earlier stages. So, on the first of every month, give yourself a breast self-exam. It's easy to do. Here's how. If you prefer to do your BSE at a particular time in your cycle, calendar it now. But, don't let the perfect be the enemy of the good.

And, once a year, get yourself a mammogram. Mammograms cost between $150 and $300. If you have to take a temp job one weekend a year, if you have to sell something on e-Bay, if you have to go cash in all the change in various jars all over the house, if you have to work the holiday season wrapping gifts at Macy's, for the love of the Goddess, please go get a mammogram once a year.

Or: The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention pays all or some of the cost of breast cancer screening services through its National Breast and Cervical Cancer Early Detection Program. This program provides mammograms and breast exams by a health professional to low-income, underinsured, and underserved women in all 50 states, six U.S. territories, the District of Columbia, and 14 American Indian/Alaska Native organizations. For more information, contact your state health department or call the Cancer Information Service at 1-800-4-CANCER.

I know that a recent study indicated that early detection via breast self exams might not be "cost effective." I'm not a scientist, but when I read those studies, they appear to be saying that sometimes women find a lump during the BSE that turns out not to be cancer. Those women have caused some expense and have gone through some discomfort in order to find out that the lump wasn't cancer. I don't know about you, but when that happens to me, as it has a few times since my first mammogram found a small, curable, cancerous lump, I go out and buy a new scarf, take myself out for a decadent lunch, call everyone I know, and declare it a good day.

Send me an email after you get your mammogram and I will do an annual free tarot reading for you. Just, please, examine your own breasts once a month and get your sweet, round ass to a mammogram once a year. If you have a deck, pick three cards and e-mail me at hecatedemetersdatter@hotmail.com. I'll email you back your reading. If you don't have a deck, go to Lunea's tarot listed on the right-hand side in my blog links. Pick three cards from her free, on-line tarot and email me at hecatedemetersdatter@hotmail.com. I'll email you back your reading.




Picture found here. Not safe for work.

No One Should Be Allowed To Make Poisons For Which There Is No Antidote

Wednesday Poetry Blogging

The Elephant is Slow to Mate
by D. H. Lawrence

The elephant, the huge old beast,
is slow to mate;
he finds a female, they show no haste
they wait

for the sympathy in their vast shy hearts
slowly, slowly to rouse
as they loiter along the river-beds
and drink and browse

and dash in panic through the brake
of forest with the herd,
and sleep in massive silence, and wake
together, without a word.

So slowly the great hot elephant hearts
grow full of desire,
and the great beasts mate in secret at last,
hiding their fire.

Oldest they are and the wisest of beasts
so they know at last
how to wait for the loneliest of feasts
for the full repast.

They do not snatch, they do not tear;
their massive blood
moves as the moon-tides, near, more near
till they touch in flood.


Picture found here.

Pouf

G/Son and I had a sleepover this weekend. We had an amazing time and drifted happily off to sleep, with him asking me to "one more time" sing him the lullabies that I used to sing to his father. He gets quite a kick out of the idea of Son being a little boy who went off to sleep with lullabies. About 3:00 in the morning, he stirred and whimpered, and I went over and rubbed his back and said, "It's just a dream. Nonna's here. Everything's ok. It's just a dream." G/Son murmured, still asleep, "Scares me, Nonna." I said, "Here, let's say 'pouf!' together; that will make it go away, like a bubble popping in the air," and, so, we did.

In the bright morning sunshine, eating breakfast out on the porch, I said, "It sounded like you had a scary dream last night." G/Son said, "Storm Troopers." I said, "Do you remember how we said, 'Pouf!" and made the storm troopers go away?" G/Son said, "Yes, just like a bubble popping in air."

So, I said, "Well, the next time that you have a scary dream, if you want to, you can use 'Pouf" and make it pop and go away. When you get older, I'll teach you some other stuff to do with the dreams, but, for now, you can tell those storm troopers 'Pouf!' and, since it's your dream, when you say 'Pouf!" they have to go pouf." G/Son laughed, we practiced saying "Pouf" and waving our arms and then we turned to a discussion of why the squirrels in Nonna's yard come and eat the bird food.

My New Name For A Blog

Janet explains the Zodiac.

Sun in Pisces.
Moon in Taurus.
Geminii Ascendent.

Everything she says is true.

Picture found here.

Justice Ginsberg Gets It Right

Majority opinion, authored by Ginsberg:

In a series of decisions, this Court has emphasized that the First Amendment generally precludes public universities from denying student organizations access to school sponsored forums because of the groups’ viewpoints. See Rosenberger v. Rector and Visitors of Univ. of Va., 515 U. S. 819 (1995); Widmar v. Vincent, 454 U. S. 263 (1981); Healy v. James, 408 U. S. 169 (1972). This case concerns a novel question regarding student activities at public universities: May a public law school condition its official recognition of a student group—and the attendant use of school funds and facilities—on the organization’s agreement to open eligibility for membership and leadership to all students?

In the view of petitioner Christian Legal Society (CLS), an accept-all-comers policy impairs its First Amendment rights to free speech, expressive association, and free exercise of religion by prompting it, on pain of relinquishing the advantages of recognition, to accept members who do not share the organization’s core beliefs about religion and sexual orientation. From the perspective of respondent Hastings College of the Law (Hastings or the Law School), CLS seeks special dispensation from an across-the-board open-access requirement designed to further the reasonable educational purposes underpinning the school’s student-organization program.

In accord with the District Court and the Court of Appeals, we reject CLS’s First Amendment challenge. Compliance with Hastings’ all-comers policy, we conclude, is a reasonable, viewpoint-neutral condition on access to the student-organization forum. In requiring CLS—in common with all other student organizations—to choose between welcoming all students and forgoing the benefits of official recognition, we hold, Hastings did not transgress constitutional limitations. CLS, it bears emphasis, seeks not parity with other organizations, but a preferential exemption from Hastings’ policy. The First Amendment shields CLS against state prohibition of the organization’s expressive activity, however exclusionary that activity may be. But CLS enjoys no constitutional right to state subvention of its selectivity.

The opinion's fun reading because it's clear (at least within SCOTUS opinion-speak) that Ginsberg really doesn't like the dissent. No surprise there, Altio essentially calls Ginsberg a politically correct liar. His rhetoric is rather overheated (my guess is that he was one of the votes for cert. and now regrets it.)

There are religious groups that cannot in good conscience agree in their bylaws that they will admit persons who do not share their faith, and for these groups, the consequence of an accept-all-comers policy is marginalization. See Brief for Evangelical Scholars (Officers and 24 Former Presidents of the Evangelical Theological Society) et al. as Amici Curiae 19 (affirmance in this case “will allow every public college and university in the United States to exclude all evangelical Christian organizations”); Brief for Agudath Israel of America as Amicus Curiae 3, 8 (affirmance would “point a judicial dagger at the heart of the Orthodox Jewish community in the United States” and permit that community to be relegated to the status of “a second-class group”); Brief for Union of Orthodox Jewish Congregations of America as Amicus Curiae 3 (affirmance “could significantly affect the ability of [affiliated] student clubs and youth movements . . . to prescribe requirements for their membership and leaders based on religious beliefs and commitments”). This is where the Court’s deci-sion leads.

***
I do not think it is an exaggeration to say that today’s decision is a serious setback for freedom of expression in this country.

Yes, it's amazing how marginalized the xians are in this country. To be clear, Alito's not talking about admitting nonbelievers to your church; he's talking about admitting them to a campus club. Any group that can't "in good conscience" do that, isn't trying to form a campus club; they're trying to form a church -- which cannot, under the Constitution, get state funding or support.

This was a 5 to 4 decision. Breyer and Kennedy were on the right side, this time. You can read the full opinion here.

Essentially, all that the opinion holds is that Hastings Law School wasn't required to give "recognized student organization" status (which includes some money from student activity fees, use of some school bulletin boards, etc.) to a xian group that excluded, for example, gays (well, at least "nonrepenetant" gays -- I guess it's ok as long as you feel bad about it afterwards and ask your god to forgive you). The group was still free to (and did) meet, communicate over social media networks, put up notices on other bulletin boards, etc. Because the requirement to "accept all comers" was content neutral, it was upheld.

What it means for Pagans is that they can't expect recognized student organization status if they want to exclude from their campus club xians or those who, for example, refuse to call East using the term "Guardians of the Watchtower," or who won't sign a pledge stating that only the Greek pantheon are "true" Gods and Goddesses. More importantly, it begins to put to bed the silly notion that unless xians get state funding and status to discriminate against others, then the xians are being discriminated against. Like everyone else, xians can play by the rules (not discriminate) and use the school's softball equipment, or they can discriminate all they want -- with their own ball and bat.

PIcture found here.

How It's Done

Here's a lovely write-up (quite rare for the WaPo, which generally ignores Pagans all together) of ConnectDC's recent public ritual.

After purifying and grounding themselves with a zinnia dipped in water, members of the group cast a circle and honored the sun goddess, Amatersu, and the Potomac River. Singing, laughter and not being afraid to "let your inner-dork hang out" were part of the hour-long event. As founder Katrina Messenger said, "Humor is one of the magical tools." Added Adam Miramon, "So is laughter."

Extra points to the author for capitalizing "Wiccan," but minus points for the lower-case "Goddess."

To nitpick, I don't think that they grounded themselves w/ the zinnia. I think they purified (asperged) themselves w/ a zinnia dipped in water (lovely touch) and then grounded, but that's the sort of mistake that it's easy for an outsider to make. This article is definitely a move forward for WaPo.

Boy, I Get Tired Of This Kind Of Bullshit

Here's an excellent, almost sympathetic (although, as usual, points off for failure to capitalize "Pagan", etc.), write-up of the long-running legal battle between the Maetreum of Cybele, Magna Mater and the Town of Catskill over the town's denial of a religious property tax exemption on the Maetreum's three-acre parcel along Route 23A.

The town's "reasons" for the denial sure do sound bogus:

First, Dan Vincelette, the town’s primary counsel in this proceeding, said during a phone interview that the 2007 exemption was initially denied because the group was experiencing structural turmoil during that year. No explanation for how that impacts tax exempt status. Nor of whether any xian church, in the process of throwing out its minister, has ever lost or been denied such status.

Then, According to Platine, a tour of the property by town officials, including Vincelette, yielded, to them, little sign of religious iconography.

Though to an unfamiliar vision, and without knowledge of their significance, Platine said, the Cybelline themes and traditional pagan symbols abounding throughout the hotel property may seem obscure.

“Here is a Minoan lily,” Platine said as she pointed to an inconspicuous hand-painted blue and yellow flower on the kitchen’s wooden bar.

Hanging on a kitchen wall were images of goddesses, the ancient deities praised by the Minoan culture.

On the parlor room mantle, amidst a piano and functional beeswax, cylinder-playing Victrola, sits a shrine where the priestesses worship and pray. In its center is a statuette of the Seated Woman of Catal Huyuk, also called Catalhoyuk, an iconographic depiction of the Mother Goddess.

The front entrance of the former inn shows Maetreum stenciling above the doorway, with goddess sculpture hanging beside the doorway and two lion statues guarding the entry way — a traditional guardian of ancient societies, Platine said. So I guess that unless you've got a crucifix or a star of david, there's no "religious iconography." No one tell them about the Islamic prohibition on representational art.

Then, During the Dec. 2 hearing, Pulver asked Smith for the precise arrears amount owed by the Maetreum, to which she responded that “the issue we are looking at isn’t so much the dollars and cents of exactly what the taxes are, which I don’t have off the top of my head, the issue is opening the floodgates. Once you relax the requirements, and if you stretch them too far, then you’re going to have just a multitude of organizations who under the spirit of the law go —”

At that moment, the official court transcript shows Smith was interrupted by Pulver, who again asked how much the amount of taxes owed was. Smith said she didn’t know and did not further qualify her statement. Come on. "Under the spirit of the law"? Really? Really?

To be clear, I don't think that any religious group should get a tax exemption, not even my own. But if you're going to give it to the xians, then you have to give it to everybody and you have to use the same standards.

Picture found here.

In A Dream

Horned One

Saturday Poetry Blogging

Aunt Leaf

~ Mary Oliver

Needing one, I invented her -
the great-great-aunt dark as hickory
called Shining-Leaf, or Drifting-Cloud
or The-Beauty-of-the-Night.

Dear aunt, I'd call into the leaves,
and she'd rise up, like an old log in a pool,
and whisper in a language only the two of us knew
the word that meant follow,

and we'd travel
cheerful as birds
out of the dusty town and into the trees
where she would change us both into something quicker -
two foxes with black feet,
two snakes green as ribbons,
two shimmering fish - and all day we'd travel.

At day's end she'd leave me back at my own door
with the rest of my family,
who were kind, but solid as wood
and rarely wandered. While she,
old twist of feathers and birch bark,
would walk in circles wide as rain and then
float back

scattering the rags of twilight
on fluttering moth wings;

or she'd slouch from the barn like a gray opossum;

or she'd hang in the milky moonlight
burning like a medallion,

this bone dream, this friend I had to have,
this old woman made out of leaves.

Picture found here.

Saturday Garden Blogging

Edith Bogue Magnolia Blossom. Smells like angel's wings and light morning sunshine.

Lavender, Full Moon, Eclipse

Grounding And Centering

Though often linked together in practice, grounding and centering your mystical energies are two separate processes. . . . "Grounding" is one of those energy words taken from technology -- in this case, electricity. To an electrician, to ground (or "earth") a current is to direct it into the ground, where it can then dissipate harmlessly. The [E]arth can absorb and dissipate a great amount of electrical energy. Thus, electrical wiring is typically grounded so that a short circuit (a flow of electricity heading somewhere where it's not supposed to go) will be redirected harmlessly into the [E]arth. Lightning rods work the same way. . . . [E]nergy workers [who] use the word ["]grounding["] . . . mean more or less the same thing -- taking excess energy or energy that is heading somewhere it isn't supposed to go and diverting it into the [E]arth.

* * *

Centering is a function of attention. All energy-working systems seem to agree that energy follows attention. . . . Centering, therefore, is moving your attention inside yourself, to your center. . . . When you center yourself, you are shifting energy to create a stable center of balance within yourself.

~ Phaedra & Isaac Bonewits in Real Energy.

Grounding and centering are "basic" practices of the Witch. Wicca 101. And, yet, the longer I practice, the more I find that I focus quite a bit on grounding and centering, both during my "daily practice" time and throughout the day.

When do you ground and center?

Picture found here.

Update: Isaac Bonewits is back in the hospital after emergency surgery. Modern neo-Paganism owes him a huge debt. You could light a candle tonight on the full Moon.

Friday Garden Blogging

Several kinds of basil (and some volunteer dill) in the herb bed.

Shade and shadow in the front garden.

What's in full bloom for you on this full Moon afternoon?

Ya Think?

[M]any Christian folk seem to me to be living largely disenchanted lives. Perhaps it's all the dogma, the rather stale services, and the general heaviness of establishment religion that closes so many people to mystery and wonder. Pagans, on the other hand, are radically alert to the magic of life, the planet and everything around them. They use symbol and ritual in such a way that connects powerfully with the human soul and makes sense not just to the mind, but to the heart and imagination, also.

Interesting viewpoint for an xian priest to hold.

Someone Explain To Me Why This Is Funny

Well, I'm no expert, and I've been surprised before, but, oddly, in all the years that I've been a Witch, I've never heard of this ancient Pagan holiday.

On the longest day of the year, when the sun barley dips below the horizon, the Danish come out in droves to celebrate the ancient pagan holiday known as The Burning Of The Witch. This year, Copenhagen's skateboarding ambassador, Rune Glifberg, teamed up with Volcom and Thrasher magazine to produce a contest in the spirit of this most ancient of annual rituals. Massive bonfires were set ablaze on the shores of Copenhagen as skaters began to eyeball the contest's double set.

If this were the "Burn the Jew" holiday, celebrated on a Jewish high holy day, or the "burn the Moslem" holiday celebrated on an Islamic high holy day, I doubt it would be considered quite as cute.

Also, minus points for failing to capitalize "Pagan".

In Love

Real magick is not merely an assortment of skills and techniques. It's more like an open minded attitude, a blend of interest and dedication, which allows each honest mage to observe, to learn, to adapt, and to invent unique new ways of changing identity and reality from within. Are you willing to learn from yourself?

The actual job of seeing a tree spirit is both simple and difficult. Speaking with the tree is sound practice, as it will amplify your experience and bring you closer in touch with it. Perhaps the tree spirit won't understand your words. It is certain to understand your mood and attitude. A feeling of genuine sympathy is the best possible link. In a sense this rite is as much an act of love as all evocation is: one comes to communicate with an aspect of the universe [of which] one was previously unconscious, and this act of communication is an act of union.

~Jan Fries in Visual Magick

The more that I focus on being "the witch of this place," the bigger the part of my practice devoted to grounding, to entwining my roots with all the roots that fill up the space just beneath the surface of my land. How does your own landbase influence your magic? If not, why not?

Picture found here.

Go Look

National Geographic has great Solstice pics from all over Gaia.

What Atrios Said

I totally stole this from Atrios.

Dear Gen Xrs:

Please ask yourselves qui bono from convincing you that "I'll never collect any Social Security"????

Love,

Hecate

We All Need Role Models

Have I mentioned that I totally adore Helen Mirren?

More here and here.

/hat tip to Mrs. F. in comments at Eschaton.

Amy

Feature, Not Up A Bug

Monsters And Maidens Must Work Together

Mischief

More here.

My New Name For A Blog

What Medusa Said

A baby under one arm and a dissertation under the other.

Don't you dare quit listening until you hear the song at the end.

Blessing Of The Sacred Day To You

Holy Mother, has there ever been a more perfect Litha day? Here in the nation's capital, it's sunny and hot, but not too muggy, and there's a lovely gentle breeze doing the most loving dance with all the leaves. The fae are still lingering from last night, just as the magic of good company still lingers on my porch. The daisies, day lilies, thyme, and basil are all abloom and my deck is a constant visiting place for robins, morning doves, blue jays, cardinals, hairy woodpeckers, and an occasional chipmunk. What a change from Yule, when my wonderful circle of amazing women couldn't get together due to a freakishly large blizzard, I couldn't even open the door to get out and feed the birds, and all the plants were buried under feet and feet of snow.

Litha is, when we live our lives in tune with the seasons, the time to appreciate how well our lives are going. What we planted at Ostara and Beltane should now be in bloom, and, of course, I don't mean "just" our herbs and flowers. If we've planted a regular daily practice, it is beginning to flower. If we've planted good works, kindness, and love, we'll be reaping those fruits.

If we're not happy with what we've got, there's still time for a mid-course correction between now and, say, Mabon, Samhein, Yule. As the days diminish, what needs to diminish in your life? As the nights grow long, what part of the mystery do you need to cultivate? What do you want to water? What should wither away in the late-Summer heat? How will you accept responsibility?

Picture found here.

Sunday Dance Blogging

Solstice Blogging; Mamelons de Vénus

The women who love me, love me. It's, likely, one of the greatest gifts of my life.