Daily Practice

I know that I'm a bit of a broken record (now there's a term G/Son's generation won't get) about this, but one of the most important things that a Witch can do is to have a daily practice. One of my v favorite bloggers says that we Witches need to work all the time to answer the question: "What are Witches for?" And, I agree.

One of the things that we're for, IMHO, is for having a daily practice.

A daily practice is a way of checking in (of being in relationship with), daily, with Mama Gaia, your landbase, your watershed, the (perhaps quite tiny) "bit of Earth" of which you are the Witch. When I sit in my altar room and call the Elements, I announce myself: "I am Hecate, the Witch of this place," and by "this place," I mean the less-than-a-quarter-acre bit of Earth that I have delved, planted, laid upon, grounded in, weeded, raked, done magic upon, consumed the herbs grown from, and come to know these past seven years. When I wake in the morning, in the small room in the Northeast corner of my house (now refreshingly chilly and full of reminders of how lucky I am to have sheets, blankets, comforters, socks crocheted by my own grandma), I connect my roots with the roots of the three giant oaks, the two American wisteria, the two temple pines, the three Japanese maples, the many herbs, the gardenias and lilacs, the jack-in-the-pulpits, the drancunculus vulgaris, the toad lilies, and the daylilies that live here with me. I reach out and connect with the squirrels, and chipmunks, and cardinals, and bluejays, and Carolina waxwings, and rabbits, and foxes who live here with me.

When I eat my oatmeal and poached egg, I call upon Columbia, the Goddess of This Place, and Hygeia, a Goddess upon whom both I and my circle of women have called, and I ask for their blessings. I go out and give birdseed to the birds I know and I give coffee grounds to the gardenias. May we never hunger. May we never thirst.

When I go to work, I purposefully drive along-side my beloved Spout Run and my adored Potomac River and I give gifts to "my" Homeless Vet who waits by the entrance to the Teddy Roosevelt Bridge. These are the acts of a Witch.

When I get to work, I stop for a moment and invoke every woman who went before me, working with laws, words, her ability to write, and argue, and persuade. (What my secretary sees: "Just like every morning, she's taking off her sunglasses, rummaging in her purse, and putting on her reading glasses. Just like every morning, she stops, holds her hands over the keys, and then types in her password (just now "elegant editing.")) (What's really happening: Hecate recites her morning prayer: 'I am a manifestation of the Goddess. Mother, help me to grow into my Better Self. It's all real. It's all metaphor. There's always more.' Hecate stops for a moment and invokes Hatshepsut, Druidic women, Boadicea, QE I, Mistress Margaret Brent, Abigail Adams, Susan B. Anthony, and Athena, Goddess of politics and laws. Hecate invokes Hecate, Goddess of liminal spaces, the space where her words and arguments may create change. Hecate asks Mama Gaia for guidance. Hecate slips on reading glasses, sends reiki to her keyboard, and hits "Open" on the first e-mail of the day.)

At 11:00 and 3:00, my computer gives me a message: Time to get up, walk around and move, create some energy, and change, and movement. I walk the halls of my firm sending blessings to everyone there. "May we serve justice. May Fortuna bless our work." I return and face East, South, West, and North and ground in the zinging and singing and whirring swampy clay of Washington, D.C.

When I get home, I sink onto the rolled-up cotton yoga blanket before my altar, touch my forehead to the wood, and ground. Again.

Having a daily practice gives me the opportunity to connect with, send Reiki to, strengthen, and bless my own bit of Earth. It allows me to do the work of a Priestess, a Witch, a woman of Earth.

I believe, and I may be a crazy old woman but I do believe, that my daily practice does Earth good. And that, more than anything else, is what I am for. I am here to connect with the Earth and to let her know that she has an ally. I am here to connect with a run and a river and to let them know that they are seen, heard, loved, and experienced. I am here to drive over the bridge from Virginia to DC and to let the shining city on a swamp know that her ally is back, to get one v short glance of the statue of Columbia above the capital, and to let this polis know that she is loved in all her marble monuments and all her hidden gardens. I am here to minister to the trees, flowers, herbs, and animals of a tiny spot in northern Virginia and to send shining energy to them.

And that, as Mr. Frost explained, has made all the difference.

What are you for? What does your daily practice look like?

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

Carrots

Not Even Pagans

A Rappahannock Halloween Festival from Bruce Dale on Vimeo.

Here's an amazing video, sent to me by my dear friend stoat, of a Halloween Festival held by a hunt club in Virginia. That's right. By a hunt club.

How many Pagan Samhein events have you been to that even come close to this?

I've been thinking a lot lately about how often we Pagans "skip" the elements of ritual that appeal to Younger Child. Maybe we, in the words of the LOLcat posters, R doing it wrong.

November

"November comes
And November goes,
With the last red berries
And the first white snows.

With night coming early,
And dawn coming late,
And ice in the bucket
And frost by the gate.

The fires burn
And the kettles sing,
And earth sinks to rest
Until next spring."
- Elizabeth Coatsworth

Picture found here.

It's More Like a War on Logic

So, I'm already seeing holiday displays at most local retailers. When you build your economy not on the needs of the planet and the true nurturing of humans but on getting people to buy (often on credit) increasingly larger and larger amounts of plastic stuff created in 3rd World sweat-shops, well, it's important to start in as soon as possible on the selling. But this post isn't about the economy.

This post is about the upcoming battle in the "War for Xmas." No, not the "War v. Xmas," that's a fundie lie; there never was and there is no such thing. Let's act like grown-ups for a moment, grown-ups possessed of some simple reasoning abilities and a basic understanding of how language works.

Right around the Winter Solstice, quite a number of different religions have a holiday of some form or another. In my religion, the Winter Solstice (Yule, as we sometimes call it) is the holiday. For Christians, the religious holiday is Christmas, a day (conveniently) located just a few days after the Winter Solstice, when they celebrate the birth of Jesus. Zorastrians celebrate Deygan. In Mali, they celebrate Goru, the arrival of their god, Amma. More: here. Those are religious holidays with, often, deep religious meaning for those who keep them.

And, at the same time, here in America, a secular holiday occurs around the period from December 25th through January 31st. It's not at all religious; in fact it's quite material and commercial. It's about enjoying winter sports such as ice skating or building snow men, about getting together with friends and family, about exchanging gifts, about decorating our houses and town squares (and, yes, our stores), about having a big feast, and, more and more, about watching sports events on tv. This secular holiday is celebrated by people of all different religions and by those who do not belong to any religion and who do not celebrate any religious holiday. I celebrate Yule on the Winter Solstice with the women in my circle and, a few days later, I celebrate the secular holiday with G/Son and his extended family. I get a lot of spiritual strength from doing the work of a Witch -- helping to turn the Wheel -- with my sisters. And, I get a lot of enjoyment out of seeing family, watching G/Son enjoy the decorated tree and his presents, catching up via cards with old acquaintances, and being able to pause for a moment before the new calendar year (my liturgical year starts on Samhein, October 31st, the occasion of yet another secular holiday). But I don't imagine that I need to force family members to be willing to celebrate the darkness, as my circle does, nor does, for example, my DiL's mother imagine that she must make me pray to Jesus. So what's the problem?

The problem comes from the fact that the secular holiday often, due to historical developments, goes by the name "Christmas," which is also the name of the Christian religious holiday. (And from the fact that there is a growing xian Dominionist movement in America.)

Now, you know, sensible grown ups can figure this out and deal with it.

We use the word "bank" to describe the place where we deposit our savings and to describe the the sloped ground that borders a stream. And, yet, no one expects the bank president to get upset when people use the word bank to discuss the place where they like to stand and fish, nor do we insist that all bank buildings contain a stream. We use the word "dear" to describe someone we love and the word "deer" to describe a forest animal, but no one insists that you love the deer in the forest or that your beloved is, in fact, a forest animal.

So it's time for the Christians to stop pretending that they can't understand the difference between a secular wintertime holiday and their own religious holiday simply because the same word is used for both of them. Frankly, I'd be quite happy to see a different term develop for the secular holiday, which is what I think has been happening for a number of years with the word "Holidays." (And, again, we don't insist, when someone in mid-December wishes us a "Happy Holiday" that they must mean the Fourth of July, just because the Fourth of July is a holiday). But that's precisely the thing that drives the xian Dominionists batshit insane: How dare the store employee wish them a "Happy Holiday" when they make their purchase! She should have said, "Merry Christmas!" "After all," they say, deliberately conflating their religious holiday with the secular holiday, "Jesus is the REASON for the [holiday] season!"

Really? Really?

Let's forget the fact that the sales clerk is mouthing something she's been told to say and that, honest, having done this job, the only thing that woman really wishes is that she were home, off her feet, and not dealing with grumpy shoppers. She doesn't know you and she's got zero interest in your religion, your secular holiday, or anything else about you. If she were told that one of her job duties was to wish you a "Merry Christmas," she wouldn't care a whit about how your religious holiday went and she'd do it even if she wishes that the baby Jesus had never been born. If she were told to wish you a "Joyous Goru," she really wouldn't care whether Amma arrived, or not. Let's forget the fact that a god whose power is threatened by what a store clerk says or by a secular holiday isn't much of a god. Let's forget how weird it is that you insist that your religious holiday be honored by commercial establishments. And, let's forget the fact that no matter how many times you say differently, America is not a "xian nation."

Let's just talk about acting like adults and recognizing that forcing your religion down everyone else's throat is not, shall we say, the best way to win converts. Let's talk about the fact that it is entirely possible for me to not believe in a friend's religion nor his religious holiday but to, still, in good will, wish him a happy secular holiday and to hope that his religious holiday is full of meaning for him. Let's talk about the fact that it's pretty hypocritical to dump on liberals for being "too politically correct" and then run around policing how people wish each other an enjoyable secular holiday.

Time are tough. A lot of people are out of work, can't afford needed medical care, have lost their homes, are watching their planet die and their kids face a grim future. We could all use a few days of friends, family, whatever feast we can scrape together, a few gifts for the kids, an excuse to build a snowman or watch the Nutcracker (Hecate's least favorite ballet, ever, but, still). Could the xian Dominionists for once drop the pretense that just because two words sound alike they must mean the same thing? Because, honest, you're not fooling anyone; you're just making yourself look absolutely ridiculous.

Dear Mr. President: The Millenials Are Not BabyBoomers. Deal.

Go read the whole thing.

Picture found here.

hat tip: Erin

Not That Complicated

hat tip: stoat

Teh Maths

Since he started Montessori school this Fall, G/Son has been making really big strides in learning to read and in learning about math. (A fussy former educator, I'm pretty happy w/ just about everything I've learned about his teacher, classmates, and school. Conversation today in the car: Nonna: "I hear that there's a creek at your school." G/Son: "Yes, it's a long walk from my classroom, but long walks outside are good for you, Nonna.")

A world-class worrier, I've never spent a moment worrying about this kid's ability to learn to read. But I am relieved to see his growing ability to think numerically. His dad was v good in math, which just goes to show you that it can't be all genes, genes, genes all the way down, because neither I nor Son's father had much facility with the maths. (Nor can it all be parental nurture all the way down, because the best thing I could do for Son's development as a mathematical human was to say, "Do your homework,"" and "Should I get you a tutor?" and, "Really, did you do your homework?") The only award at Son's high school that came with a check was the math award, which he won his senior year and applied to the purchase of his first computer.

I'm old enough to have grown up when it was definitely acceptable for girls to be good at English, Religion (I won that award every year at my Catholic school. Heh.), and the Social Sciences, but not at Arithmetic, Science, and Math. I come by my own inabilities honestly though, and not as a result of some "I'll be cute and act dumb" decision. My right brain abilities are as retarded as my left brain (and I'm just being honest here) abilities are advanced. I can't place one object in physical relationship to another object if my life depends upon it, and, often, that includes the physical relationship between my own body and the rest of the world. (Can you say multiple sprained and two broken ankles? I knew that you could.) There's a reason why I love ballet but didn't study it much beyond my early teens. I once spent the most intellectually intense hour of my life not figuring out an obscure legal concept but, instead, trying to figure out which rooms in my basement were under which rooms in the upstairs of my house and to be able to "feel" that my answers were right. No musical ability, no ability to draw or paint, no ability to read maps, no ability to sculpt, etc., etc. So, obviously, I honestly lack whatever it is that makes some people easily able to think about numbers. But I do imagine that, had I arrived here with a penis, someone would have been a bit more concerned about the inability of a clearly not-stupid person to do anything vaguely numerical.

Which is all a long way of saying that I'm quite relieved and happy to find G/Son enjoying his exploration of the world of numbers.

This morning, after an overnight at Nonna's house that involved watching Peter Pan (Nonna's inside-her-head-voice: "Someday, you are so going to get the concept of a 'puer aeternus'") , we were driving to G/Son's house, after a short stop for breakfast, and G/Son said to me, "Nonna, what if you have a 1 and a 0? That's not 1, because the 1 comes before the 0. That's ten." And (after thinking for a moment) I said, "That's right; when you write a 1 and a 0 together, it makes 10." G/Son said, "And, Nonna! Do you know what you get if you write a 2 and a 0 together?" Again, Nonna checked herself and said, "You get twenty?" G/Son said, "That's right. Because when the zero comes second, you are dealing with tens. Now, Nonna, ask me about what you get if you write a 3 and a zero together!" And, so, of course, I did and, so, of course, G/Son got it right. And, all the way from Nonna's cottage to G/Son's house, we played games about numbers and, then, in a feat unimaginable in any universe, the child dancing upon Gaia with about 25% of my defective genetic material counted from 1 to 200. What amazed me, and, really, this is the point of this post, and I DO have one, is how much fun this was for G/Son. Every time that he'd get another set of questions right ("What is 8 and 0? Eighty. What is 8 and 1? Eighty-one. What is 8 and 2? Eighty-two. . . . .") G/Son would just beam and, literally, laugh for joy. Whenever we got to a question that involved fives ("What do you get if you write 5 and 5 together?" "Fifty-five!") I would say, "Give me five!" and G/Son would chuckle with glee and slap my outstretched hand. The look of joy on his face was, well, to use a numerical expression, priceless.

If there's anything in the world that I wish for this child beyond good health, which, thank the Goddess, he seems to enjoy, it is joy in learning. G/Son: "Nonna! Ask me another one!"

I don't know what I may have done, in my (clearly) wicked youth or childhood, but, at some point, either Grace just took over or I may have done something good. At any rate, none of the boychilds that I have launched upon the world appear to bear my complete inability to manipulate numerical concepts. And, that is a v good thing.

You know, he goes right directly to my heart, completely w/o passing "go" this golden-haired elf, he does.

Picture found here.

Sunday Dance Blogging

People Keep Doing It; I'm Going to Keep Complaining About It

Here's a news article, admittedly written by a student (a freshman, one hopes, given the lack of organization), that manages, once again to demonstrate two of my pet peeves.

First, the author seems genuinely confused about the rules of capitalization. Take, for example:

As Shayne drifted away from Christianity, she learned more about paganism when she was in college.

or

Shane says 'paganism' is the general term for a variety of different religions, just as there are many denominations of Christianity. Paganism predates many of the monotheistic religions, including Judaism and Christianity.

Yet, at other times, we get:

Many holidays were originally Pagan-based. Halloween is called Samhain by Pagans, which represents the end of the year and is the shortest day in the year, Shayne explains.

If you're going to capitalize "Christianity," which is the name of a group of religions, then you should capitalize "Paganism," which is also the name of a group of religions. Simple.

And, then, of course, there's this:

Shane Camp, the president of the Pagan Alliance Club. He created the club because he says paganism is given a bad rap.

and

"There is a misconception that Pagans are Satan worshipers," says Lawhorne. For instance, the five points on the star, in Hollywood, represent evil and the calling of evil spirits. But Shayne says according to Pagan traditions, it is the calling of the five elements that make up life: water, air, earth, spirit and fire. It is a nature-based symbol.

As I've written many times before, this practice Pagans have of shooting themselves in the foot has got to stop. Shane, tell the reporter that you created the club so that campus Pagans could get together and discuss their religion, could organize the blood drives on campus that the article finally discusses, and could volunteer at the animal center. And there is NO reason to discuss the "misperception that Pagans are Satan worshipers." When you negate a frame, you invoke it. Besides, the main source of quotes about Pagans and Satan these days seems to me to be coming from -- Pagans.

Just stop it.

Picture found here.

Why Magic Works -- And Why It Takes Work

[The Second Law of Thermodynamics] has been simply summarized as follows: "The more complex a structure, the more energy it must dissipate to maintain all that complexity. This flux of energy make the system highly unstable, subject to internal fluctuations -- and sudden change. If these fluctuations or perturbations reach a critical size, they are amplified by the system's many connections and can drive the system into a new state -- even more ordered, coherent, and connected. The new state occurs as a sudden shift."

~Ilya Prigogine, Nobel Prize Winner, quoted in The Possible Human by Jean Houston.

Picture found here.

Saturday Garden Blogging

In Autumn, the leaves take over and it doesn't matter what color scheme you've worked on for your garden. And, it's wonderful.

Kali Fuck

Yes, they'll know we are xians by our love, by our love. And they'll know we are xians by our love!

Hecate

Lady of the Hounds

Hekate, Lady of Hounds
Dark-haired haunter of the crossroads
Threshold-crosser, Boundary-walker
Protect my home from all evil influences
From those who would wish me harm
And those who would harm me unwittingly
Dark-haired Goddess clad in spidersilk
The wolf and hound at Your side
The dark of the moon belongs to You
Hekate Triformus
Keeper of Keys and Walker of Ways
Let my partake of the secrets of the night
Let me speak with the animals at Your side
And share in Your khthonic wisdom
Let me return home to sleep in my bed once more,
To teach others of You, fierce Goddess
Let me be of Your wold,
Yet remain in mine.

~Amanda Sioux Blake in Bearing Torches; A Devotional Anthology for Hekate by Bibliotheca Alexandrina.

Picture found here.

Hey, Cindy, Go Talk to Your Old Man

Not Easy

Back from listening to the insightful and entertaining Janet Kane discuss levels of expression of each sign of the Zodiac.

You know, it's not easy to be a Pisces in this culture.

Based upon my 54 years of experience, I'd say that's about right. But like the YouTubes for gay teens, I would say that, "It does get better."

What's been the biggest challenge of living your sign?

Picture found here.

Wednesday Poetry Blogging

Autumn by William Morris

Laden Autumn here I stand
Worn of heart, and weak of hand:
Nought but rest seems good to me,
Speak the word that sets me free.

It's ok to be tired. That's what this season is for.

Picture found here.

Not Complicated

Can, we, however, please quit calling them the Bush "tax cuts" and call them what they really are: "The Bush Welfare for Paris Hilton Program"?

"No, But I've Thought It"

Oh, I hear you, babe.

And, Lately, There's a Lot to Be Bored By

Being in Relationship with Nature

The newsletter from G/Son's Montessori school (sent via paperless e-mail, the better to be shared w/ loving Nonnas!) has a wonderful article about helping each child to find a "sitting space" outside, someplace the child can go to to feel safe, alone, in nature.

Did you have a place like this, as a child?

When I was young, my sitting space was under a giant, old forsythia bush, big enough to have multiple rooms inside it, where you could crawl in under the branches and feel that you were, indeed, in your own little world. I made tea-sets out of sycamore leaves, stitched into little cups with their stems, crawled in there to read without being bothered, lay on my back and learned more than I knew at the time by watching how the sunlight filtered through the leaves and golden flowers.

When I got a bit older, I graduated to a secret cave made by three ancient pine trees, off in the far SouthWest of our yard, sappy branches for climbing and all. The needles made a fragrant bed and no sunlight penetrated here. I went there to "play Indian," "Indian" being about the only model I had for living in relationship with nature. I hid treasures there, watched the ants make colonies, and climbed up higher than my parents would have liked.

When I got even older, my sitting space was down beside a local creek, where I could watch water dance and play with stones, where I could project myself into dragonflies, skimming over the water, where I could put my hands on the sandy bank and believe myself home.

The newsletter from G/Son's school makes the point that ensuring a child a "sitting space" helps the child to develop a relationship with nature, especially as it changes from season to season. There's no program or structure. There's just a child, a special place, time, and nature.

I was thinking today that the concept reminds me of the speech that Le Petit Prince makes to the Earthly roses:

You are beautiful, but you are empty. One could not die for you. To be sure, an ordinary passerby would think that my rose looked just like you — the rose that belongs to me. But in herself alone she is more important than all the hundreds of you other roses: because it is she that I have watered; because it is she that I have put under the glass globe; because it is she that I have sheltered behind the screen; because it is for her that I have killed the caterpillars (except the two or three that we saved to become butterflies); because it is she that I have listened to, when she grumbled, or boasted, or ever sometimes when she said nothing. Because she is my rose

.
Except that, I think that the opposite thing happens. When one learns to enter into relationship with one particular bit of nature, when one learns to communicate with the genius loci of one place, one comes, somehow to a deeper appreciation of all nature.

But I do think it is Le Petit Prince's practice that is important: watering one's rose, protecting it, sheltering it, killing (some of) the caterpillars for it, and listening to it, even when the rose grumbles (every rose I ever tried to raise did), boasts, or says nothing. And, that, I think, is the value, for both children and grown-ups, of a sitting place. Do you have one? Does the child in your life?

Nowadays, my sitting place is in my woodland garden, near my magnolia trees, beside the ferns, just near the spot where I make Hecate's depinion on the Dark Moon. And, of course, I can't go there w/o reciting to myself David McCord's wonderful poem:

This is my rock
And here I run
To steal the secret of the sun.

This is my rock
And here come I
Before the night has swept the sky.

This is my rock
This is the place
I meet the evening face to face.

If you don't have a "sitting space" how could you find one?

Picture found here.

Outside

When were you last outside?

"I believe that one of the greatest causes of the ecological crisis is the state of personal alienation from nature in which many people live. We lack a widespread sense of intimacy with the living world. Natural history has never been more popular in some ways, yet few people organize their lives around nature, or even allow it to affect them profoundly. Our depth of contact is too often wanting.

~Robert Michael Pyle

Sunday Ballet Blogging

Protecting Time in Nature

Writing about children, Richard Louv says:

It takes time -- loose, unstructured dreamtime -- to experience nature in a meaningful way. Unless parents are vigilant, such time becomes a scarce resource, because time is consumed by multiple invisible forces; because our culture currently places so little value on natural play.

What's true for children is, I think, true for all of us. It's difficult, for example, to head out to a park on just the Dark and Full Moons and expect to have a deep experience of nature. It's different if, in between the Moons, you've had what Louv talks about: time -- loose unstructured dreamtime -- to experience that same park in a meaningful way. Then, when you rush there from work on the Friday night of a Dark Moon, and hurry to the tree that you've come to know on a first-name basis, a few minutes of grounding may find you ready to practice your nature religion, to have a deep and meaningful experience with the object of your religion: nature, your landbase, your watertable, the Goddesses/Gods/Spirits of your place.
And as Louv says of children, we have to be vigilant about protecting our spiritual practice, about ensuring that we have loose, unstructured dreamtime out in nature. Otherwise, a million different "shoulds" encroach upon the time. Otherwise, you look up and realize that you spend hours a week watching tv and no time at all in nature. And the next thing you know, you say that you're practicing a nature religion, but you don't have a regular, intimate relationship with any specific part of nature, you just kind of like Capital-N-Nature in a vague, general way. Which may be OK, but it's a lot less than you're entitled to.

Picture found here

Saturday Poetry Blogging

TO LIVE IS MIRACLE ENOUGH

To live at all is miracle enough.
The doom of nations is another thing.
Here in my hammering blood-pulse is my proof.

Let every painter paint and poet sing
And all the sons of music ply their trade;
Machines are weaker than a beetle’s wing.

Swung out of sunlight into cosmic shade,
Come what come may, the imagination’s heart
Is constellation high and can’t be weighed.

Nor greed nor fear can tear our faith apart
When every heart-beat hammers out the proof
That life itself is miracle enough.

~Mervyn Peake

Picture found here.

Pretty Much

Dark of the Moon, New Beginnings

Dark Moon tonight. New beginnings. Dark of the Moon, plant a seed tonight. Dark of the Moon. What we envision, will come to be in the Full Moon's light.

What new thing are you working on?

What do you envision that will come to be in the Full Moon's light?

My goals for the coming Moon are pretty prosaic: I'm going to add two workouts with weights a week to my now-already-pretty-well-established-daily treadmill walking. (I'm an old woman. Suddenly, that whole weight-training-can-fight-inflamation-and-thus-stave-off-arthritis-stuff (given the pain in my hands from knitting the last couple of cowls) is starting to sound pretty good to me.) If I don't show up this same time next month and tell you that I've done 8 sessions at the gym, well, now that I've made it public, no worries, I'll do it. I'm working, too, on a commitment that I made a while back at an important ritual: I'm going to get out more and do more "fun" stuff, even if it is getting cold and even if I do have a ton of get-ready-for-Winter stuff to do in my garden. (Yes, fun can be very important. Especially if you're the oldest-daughter-super-achiever-type-A-introverted Queen of the To-Do List.) This weekend, I'm debating between this, a trip to one of my favorite places, a browsing (and, OK, a yarn-for-Yule-projects-buying) trip to my favorite yarn store, and listening to Congressional staffers gossip about the new Congress at Hawk & Dove.

What would you do if you had promised to go do something just for fun?

Picture found here.

Air

Art, especially sculpture, has always spoken so deeply to my Younger Self. And I've long been a huge fan of Andrew Goldsworthy's work. Lately, I've been getting a lot of inspiration for things in my own life from two artists whose works contain echoes of Goldsworthy. One is Patrick Dougherty. Here's a short video about how he creates interesting spaces from tree branches.



Dougherty has an exhibit at the Brooklyn Botanical Garden that I'm itching to go see; like most sculpture, his work doesn't translate all the way into two dimensions.

The sculpture at BBG is woven from nonnative woody material that was collected from Ocean Breeze Park on Staten Island. The harvesting site was chosen by BBG's director of Science because of its proximity to the Garden and its large population of nonnative willow (Salix atrocinerea), which is designated an invasive species in New York State. Removal of saplings of this species helped protect the site's excellent assemblage of herbaceous plants. The park is owned by the City of New York and is targeted for restoration under the City's PlaNYC sustainability initiative.

. . .

When asked about some of the words that came to mind as he contemplated what he wanted to build in Brooklyn, Dougherty smiled and said "lairs; a place for feral children and wayward adults."

Maybe I can borrow G/Son and we can go one weekend this Spring.

The second is Sally J. Smith who blogs here. I especially like how Smith's work honors the changing seasons. Here's a short video showing some of her works for this time of year:



And here's another, with ice sculptures for the coming Winter. I love the way that Smith intentionally incorporates the Sun and Moon (yes, the real ones! and she's not alone) into her work.



What inspires you right now?

Picture found here.

My New Name for a Blog

What Athenae Said.

So there's going to be a lot of ink expended over the next couple of weeks trying to figure out how this happened, as if it's a goddamn mystery. This economy blows goats, and instead of being out there every day yelling HEY WE TRIED TO FIX IT THOSE FUCKERS WOULDN'T LET US ALSO BUSH BAILED OUT THE BANKS NOT US, Democrats pretty much figured the midterms were gonna be a bloodbath and hunkered down and hoped it wouldn't hit them too hard. Because that works. That always works.

Here's the problem, you gutless fucks. You had majorities. And I KNOW, okay, but all America sees is that you had majorities and you wasted them. Because that's what the GOP told them, and you said, "buh buh buh" and couldn't point to anything you did right, not even with the unwashed hippies holding your arm up for you. You had majorities, and you had Harry Reid, refusing to be mean to Republicans by shoving stuff through. You had majorities, and you had Barack Obama acting like he was already an ex-president and could be gracious and social with these pricks. You had majorities, used them to do some stuff, and then sat back and acted like we should be grateful when we can fucking count.

We can fucking count, out here. We know what 51 means. We know what 257 means. We're not morons. And all the procedural whatsit you argue today, about ConservaDems and Blue Dogs, doesn't mean shit. You had it, and we worked hard to give it to you, and we see you calling things impossible which are just very hard, and we get fucking annoyed, because we don't get to get away with that shit. Not at our jobs and not in our lives.

Now, I'm not excusing the Party of I Hate You or these teabagging excuses for human beings who think education is vaguely homosexual in some sinister way, but I am saying that the lesson we're all going to take away from this is that America just isn't a Democratic nation and we should all tack to the right and us hippies should just die in a fire already, which is bullshit. The lesson we should take away from this is that America doesn't like [wimps], doesn't like whiners and it sure as fuck doesn't like parties that pretend to be able to do less than they can do just because they don't want to work that hard or have Chris Matthews call them mean.

You had majorities. You had power and you told us you were powerless. Why would anyone reward that with more power? Why would anyone think that's a good idea?
Schmucks.

Go leave her some love.

Also, Rahm Emanuel and Tim Kaine better never run into me in a dark alley. Way to fuck up everything Dr. Dean did, you two worthless, dipshit, running-dog, mercenaries.

And:



Besides:

Remember that the real work of change is always going on—if not in Washington, then in thousands of towns and neighborhoods and communities, if not in the halls of power, then in the streets. Don’t be complacent, but don’t despair. All around us are allies working for more justice, more freedom, more ecological balance, more peace. This is not a time to fall back, but to step up, to be bolder, braver, louder, funnier, more inventive, more outrageous, more committed. Political winds blow back and forth—hold to your deepest values, and we’ll stay the course.

~Starhawk

Finally, here's Digby, quoting Hillary Clinton, quoting Harriet Tubman:

I thought that Hillary Clinton had it right when she said at the Democratic Convention in 2008:
"My mother was born before women could vote, my daughter got to vote for her mother for President. This is the story of America, of women and men who defy the odds and never give up.

So how do we give this country back to them? By following the example of a brave New Yorker, a woman who risked her li[fe] to bring slaves to freedom along the underground railroad.

On that path to freedom, Harriet Tubman had one piece of advice:

‘If you hear the dogs, keep going. If you see the torches in the woods, keep going. If they’re shouting after you, keep going. Don’t ever stop, keep going. If you want a taste of freedom, keep going.’

And even in the darkest moments. That is what Americans have done. We have found the faith to keep going."

Keep the faith. And anyway, what choice do we have?

Picture found here.

But It Bends Towards Justice

The pessimist sees the problems in every opportunity. Whereas the optimist sees the opportunity in every problem

Never give in, never give in, never; never; never; never - in nothing, great or small, large or petty - never give in except to convictions of honor and good sense.

~Winston Churchill

Obstructing Traffic

Nov. 14, 1917. The Night of Terror. Women were to be "taught a lesson" for wanting to vote.

I suppose that, tomorrow, you can find the time to vote. Don't you owe it to these women?

I do.

Word

Hat tip: Susie.

Also, just go read Dancing in the Streets by B. Ehrenreich.

I Sincerely Suggest That You Take Yourself to the Polls Tomorrow

No, I don't like all the choices that I've got. But I intend to exercise the choice that my dad preserved for me when, a kid right out of high school in a backwards, beet-farming, hick town in Colorado, he joined the Navy to make sure that Hitler and the Japanese Emperor didn't take away from working people (his one, true passion) the right to vote. I intend to exercise the choice that my foremothers won for me when they were jailed for demonstrating for votes for women outside the White House and were beaten, force fed, hung from their wrists all night, and forced to defend themselves against charges of being insane because they wanted women to have the right to vote. I intend to spend the 15 or 20 minutes that it will take to drive to my local community center, give my name to the registrar, go into the booth, and vote.

I shan't be gone long. You come, too.
Because I'm a woman. Because I'm a Witch. Because I'm a magic-worker. Because I can.

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.

Sunday Dance Blogging

What Is Remembered Does Not Die

ON PASSING A GRAVEYARD

May perpetual light shine upon
The faces of all who rest here.
May the lives they lived
Unfold further in spirit.
May the remembering earth
Mind every memory they brought.
May the rains from the heavens
Fall gently upon them.
May the wildflowers and grasses
Whisper their wishes into the light.
May we reverence the village of presence
In the stillness of this silent field.

— John O Donohue

Picture found here

Hymn to Hekate

Swathed in red is Hekate.
Hooded in red is Hekate.
Red-hemmed Artemis, lift aloft your burning torch,
And bring the trumpet of the nocturnal hunt.
The flow of life is in the hands of Hekate,
And her burning light guides the way.
Terror-ridden roar of the bull is the trumpets blast,
And the hounds bay in search of their prey.
The beasts of the woods shudder in their homes,
And a scream fills the night air.
None is safe from the nocturnal hunt,
And Hekate guides the host of souls to their new abode.
The light of Hekate does not flicker,
But illuminates the halls of the dead,
And exalts in the company of fair Persephone.
Bloodied-red Hekate, we leave your monthly feast,
At the site of your throne.
Red-swathed Hekate has all roads lain before her,
And the merciful Goddess greets those unfortunates who share her plate.
The touch of Hekate is merciful, and in her embrace we depart.

~Lykeia in Bearing Torches: A Devotional Anthology for Hekate, pub. by Bibliotheca Alexandrina

PIcture found here.

Blessed Samhein to You and Yours.

The longer we are together
the larger death grows around us.
How many we know by now who are dead! We, who were young,
now count the cost of having been.
And yet as we know the dead
we grow familiar with the world.
We, who were young and loved each other
ignorantly now come to know
each other in love, married
by what we have done, as much
as by what we intend. Our hair
turns white with our ripening
as though to fly away in some
coming wind, bearing the seed
of what we know. It was bitter to learn
that we come to death as we come to love,
bitter to face
the just and solving welcome
that death prepares. But that is bitter
only to the ignorant, who pray it will not happen. Having come
the bitter way to better prayer, we have
the sweetness of ripening. How sweet
to know you by the signs of the world!

~Wendell Berry

Picture found here.

As Long As It Talks, I Am Going to Listen

What a thing it is to sit absolutely alone,
in the forest, at night, cherished by this
wonderful, unintelligible,
perfectly innocent speech,
the most comforting speech in the world,
the talk that rain makes by itself all over the ridges,
and the talk of the watercourses everywhere in the hollows!
Nobody started it, nobody is going to stop it.
It will talk as long as it wants, this rain.
As long as it talks I am going to listen.

Thomas Merton

Have you listened, lately? What have you heard?

PIcture found here.

An Excerpt from Robbie Burns

May Your Samhein Be No Less Full Blyhte

Now over a waterfall the steam plays,
As through the glen it meandered;
Sometimes round a rocky cliff it strays,
Sometimes in a eddy it dimpled it;
Sometimes glittered to the nightly rays,
With bickering, dancing dazzle;
Sometimes hid underneath the hill sides,
Below the spreading hazel
Unseen that night.

Among the ferns, on the hillside,
Between her and the moon,
The Devil, or else a young cow in the open,
Got up and gave a croon:
Poor Leezie's heart almost leaped the sheath;
Near lark high she jumped,
But missed a foot, and in the pool
Out over the ears she plumped
With a plunge that night.

In order, on the clean hearth-stone,
The small wooden vessel three are ranged;
And every time great care is taken
To see them duly changed:
Old uncle John, who wedlock's joys
Since Mar's-year (1715) did desire,
Because he got the empty dish three times,
He heaved them on the fire
In wrath that night.

With merry songs, and friendly talk,
I wager they did not weary;
And wondrous tales, and funny jokes -
Their sports were cheap and cheery:
Till buttered sows, with fragrant smoke,
Set all their tongues a wagging;
Then, with a social glass of liquor,
They parted off careering
Full blythe that night.

************

May you dance the Spiral Dance and may the veils part gently for you.

Picture found here.

Spot On

Tam Lin

People Keep Doing It; I'm Going to Keep Complaining About It

Sigh.

We were very excited to be asked to do the invocation," Childers told the Patch. "A lot of people think pagans go out and kill goats; they don't even understand what paganism really is. Although contemporary society is taught to believe it's a bad thing, we're just like everyone else."

"I don't know why the city chose to go with pagans, but we're honored," she told the Patch,

"We have also had Native American 'Medicine Men,' Islamic Imams, Buddhist Monks, Falong Gong, Rabbi's, Hindu's and a couple of religious persons that I couldn't even figure out what they were," Santee Mayor Randy Voepel told the Patch in an email. He said the city council invocations are about half-and-half Christian and non-Christian, according to the Patch.

Here's a nice story about a Pagan being asked to give the invocation to open the meeting of the Santee City, California City Council. (I'd rather see government functions not open with a prayer, but if they're going to do so, having a Pagan give the invocation is nice.) It's even nice to see the local Catholic priest be welcoming, although we'll see how happy Father Casey is once the Goddess, vs. his god, is invoked.

"I think religious values should be everywhere," Jesuit Fr. Kevin Casey, associate pastor at Guardian Angels Catholic Church in Santee, told the Patch, noting that he performed an invocation in November 2009. "I always welcome the opportunity for there to be a mention of God at the beginning of a City Council meeting."

But it's the same old problem. Don't use your 15 minutes of fame to say say that Pagans (with a capital "P" please) don't "go out and kill goats." First, by trying to negate a frame, you invoke it. Second, some Pagans do sacrifice animals. So why lie? Much better to use the real estate in the paper to say that you're honored, especially this close to a major Pagan holiday, to be asked to offer the invocation and that you'll be, for example, asking the beloved Ancestors to guide and give wisdom to the members of the City Council, as this is a time of year when Pagans give special honor to the Ancestors.

Come on, Pagans. Stop it.

One of my hopes is that, by highlighting how often this happens, we can convince people that they don't need to keep doing it. Hasn't the stereotype received enough reinforcement?

Picture found here.

What It Cost

You know what? I hate the current crop of Dems. I hate the Conciliator in Chief who lives in the WH, the cool young guy who took the job away from the experienced older woman who could have actually done the job. And you know what else? My old, tired, disillusioned, broken body is going to show up on November 2nd and vote for the lesser of two evils.

And, if you stay home, if some effete "enthusiasm gap" keeps you away from the polls, well, then, with all due respect, fuck you.

I will never not vote. It cost my foremothers too much to win this right for me.

Now, get your sweet round ass to the polls. Get out there and Vote Like a Girl.

Don't Think of a Satanist

Yesterday, I posted one in a (sadly) growing series of posts begging Pagans to stop announcing to the press that their Pagan Pride Day/Samhein celebration/etc. is devoted to "dispelling common misperceptions about [P]agans and [P]aganism." I keep posting about this very common problem because I really believe that it matters. (I'm not someone who wants more people to "convert" to Paganism. While I realize those days are gone forever, I honestly liked it a lot better when people had to really search and work in order to find other Pagans and "become" a Pagan. But I do want those who are members of our religion to receive the same amount of respect that members of other religions receive. And I'm unaware of any other religion that begins interviews with the press by listing misperceptions about their religion. Look, most people I know think that any given Catholic priest is likely to abuse little boys. And that's, at least, based on some facts about Catholic priests. But I've never read an article about a Catholic holiday that began with a priest asserting that there are, in fact, a whole lot of them who have never abused an altar boy. Why do you imagine that is so?)

Here's a quote from George Lakoff's Don't Think of an Elephant to explain my concern:

When I teach the study of framing at Berkeley, in Cognitive Science 101, the first thing I do is I give my students an exercise. The exercise is: Don't think of an elephant! Whatever you do, do not think of an elephant. I've never found a student who is able to do this. Every word, [such as] elephant, evokes a frame, which can be an image or other kinds of knowledge. Elephants are large, have floppy years and a trunk, are associated with circuses, and so on. The word is defined relative to that frame. When we negate a frame, we evoke the frame.

Richard Nixon found this out the hard way. While under pressure to resign during the Watergate scandal, Nixon addressed the nation on TV. He stood before the nation and said, "I am not a crook." And everybody thought about him as a crook.

[Think for a moment about Christine O'Donnell telling the world, "I'm not a Witch. I'm you." It led to nothing but replies further defining her in the public's mind as a Witch and, definitely, not "us."]

This gives us a basic principle of framing, for when you are arguing against the other side: Do not use their language. Their language pickes out a frame -- and it won't be the frame you want.

(emphasis added).

Lakoff goes on to explain how Bush II adopted the framing of "tax relief."

[I]t is [not just on Fox, it is] on CNN, it is on NBC, it is on every station because it is "the president's tax relief plan." And soon the Democrats are using tax relief and shooting themselves in the foot.

It is remarkable. I was asked by the Democratic senators to visit their caucus just before the president's tax plan was to come up in the Senate. They had their version of the tax plan, and it was their version of tax relief. They were accepting the conservative frame [that taxes, rather than being a patriotic duty, that one should be proud to pay, were a burden from which one needed relief]. The conservatives had set a trap. The words draw you into their world view.

We're Witches. I think we understand the concept that, "When we negate" something, we "evoke" that same thing. How many times have you read that affirmations and spells should be phrased to evoke what you want to have become manifest in the world rather than the thing that you want to see decrease and disappear?

When you get your 15 minutes of media attention and you use that time saying that Pagans are not Satanists/evil/ugly/dangerous/etc., by negating that frame about us, you actually evoke it and give it strength. The next time people hear "Pagan" or "Witch," they think, "Oh, yeah, those folks who say that they're not Satanists, just as O'Donnell said she wasn't a Witch, just as Nixon went around trying to convince us that he wasn't a crook."

I've listed my suggestions for how to deal with the press. In comments to several of my posts, Teacats, Makarios, and Literata have suggested developing a media guide for Pagans. I think it's a great idea, but I don't, given my work commitments, have the time to devote to it. However a few smart Pagans could coordinate over the internet and do so. I'd first suggest, a la Teacat's suggestion, a survey of the literature, to figure out if someone (Lady Liberty League? Cherry Hill Seminary? A presentation at a Pagan conference? Green Egg?) hasn't already put together at least a beginning guide. I'd then move on beyond Pagan sources to look at general media guides and discussions of framing. It would be fantastic if every Pagan sponsoring a Pagan Pride event or being interviewed for Samhein had a guide to refer to before meeting the press.

I'm really tired of writing the same damn post over and over.

Picture found here.

People Keep Doing It; I'm Going to Keep Complaining About It

It's pretty darn amazing that, even when the two words are in the very same sentence, people ignore the rules of capitalization:

Green added that just like Christianity, which has thousands of denominations, there are many diverse traditions under the umbrella term "paganism."

(Don't even get me started on the pointless quotation marks. )

When you're making the precise point that Paganism, like Christianity, is a broad term that includes many different subgroups, then it seems only logical, not to mention polite, to capitalize either both or neither of the two broad category names.

And, then of course, there's the usual problem:

Novello and fellow event coordinators Sabine Green and Mahonri Telles said they would like to dispel common misconceptions about pagans and paganism. Too often, they said, and especially in the media, pagans are depicted as witches running around in heavy eye makeup.
"Paganism - some people prefer the term 'neo-paganism' - refers to a group of related ancient religions," said Green, a college instructor. "We are nature-based, we honor the elements Pagans
live a very seasonal life, we're very agricultural."

Green said Las Cruces Pagan Pride Day is one of the ways local pagans work to "dispel the myths, one person at a time."

"It's true that there are some people, mostly young people, who think 'it's cool to be a pagan or a witch' and they like the shock value," she said. "We'd like to help people move beyond the spirit of novelty to a more mature understanding of paganism."

I've dealt with this self-defeating behavior over and over and over and over again. Please stop.

Finally, please don't say things that are not true, that are misleading, or that buy into the dominant paradigm's framing. Saying that modern Pagans are "very agricultural" is misleading, at best, absent further explanation. Most modern Pagans live in urban areas and do not grow their own food. "Neo-Paganism" doesn't refer to a "group of related ancient religions" -- that's why it's called "neo." I don't like the term, but it does have a specific meaning. And, why adopt the framing that there's something "wrong" with Witches who wear heavy eye make-up? You know, a lot of Witches do. So do a lot of Christians, but they don't run around disclaiming it.

People, quit doing this kind of stuff.

Picture found here.

Bird's Lament

Honoring The (Sometimes Dysfunctional) Ancestors

Just a few days now until Samhein. I sit in a shaft of weak sunlight in my leaf-strewn garden and wonder, as, I guess, all old people do: "How did another year slip by so quickly?

Maybe more than any other holiday, Samhein has a huge component of fun, generally related to the coincident secular holiday. Scratch a Pagan and you'll likely find someone who loves costumes, the dark, all things "spooky." And, a large part of showing up for Samhein, being fully present in the holy day, involves our relationship with "The Ancestors." For many Pagans, that part is fun, as well. Lovingly-crafted ancestor altars, with pictures and mementos of the beloved dead, are artfully arranged. Food and music and stories that remind us of our parents, grandparents, and other now-dead relatives make up a large part of many Samhein rituals and divination and other forms of communication are used, here while the veils are thin.

Yet, for some Pagans, those of us who grew up in dysfunctional families, these practices can become fraught, rather than fun. One coping strategy that I've adopted is to broaden my definition of the term "Ancestors." I've done this in two different ways, over time.

First, through trance work,I've gotten to know some Ancestors from my deep past, especially one old, old woman who survived a lot of very cold winters inside a cave. I can draw strength and inspiration from those ancestors that I'm not able to find in my immediate predecessors. When I call upon the Element of Earth, I remember that Earth contains the bones of my ancestors, all of whom were survivors. When I ground, I can feel the layers of life under my feet; I twist my own roots deep around the roots of my own past.

Second, I've come to realize that I have any number of "Ancestors of the Heart" to whom I am not genetically related (any more than we are all, of course, Sons and Daughters of African Eve). Primary among these, I count Dorothy Parker, for her deep romanticism and idealism which she defended with her deep cynicism. She was one of my first models for how to be a smart aleck in this world and began my love affair with poetry. I count here, too, fictional characters: Susan Sowerby from The Secret Garden, Dorothy Sayers' Harriet Vane, Meg Murray and Mrs. Who from a Wrinkle in Time.

And, so when I sit on Samhein to honor The Ancestors, I will honor my own version. And, as I've written before, I hope to be:

reminded of one of my favorite passages, ever, from Ursula LeGuin. A woman importunes her ancestors for help. "Oh, it's That One. In trouble, again," the Ancestors chuckle to each other. It's what I imagine some Viking thrall saying to some settler from ancient Rus and to the barefoot old crone, the one who died lighting fires at the edge of the cave to keep the winter wolves away from the smell of placenta and mother's milk. "Oh, it's That One. In trouble, again."

But I think they'll say it with a friendly chuckle.

And I will renew my own pledge to do as Katrina Messenger once told me Jung taught that we must do: I will continue to know, dance with, and release the energy of my own shadows so that, to the best of my abilities, I do not project them onto the next generations. Some bits of my family's heritage will hopefully die with me. It's one way that I can honor those with whom I prefer not to spend time, across the veils.

Here's Angela Raincatcher and Thalia Took dealing with some of their own ancestral issues. How do you deal with yours? Who are your Ancestors of the Heart? What would an altar to them look like?

Picture found here.

Sunday Poetry Blogging

By what miracle
does this cracker
made from Kansas wheat,
this cheese ripened in French caves, this fig, grown and dried near Ephesus,
turn into Me?
My eyes,
My hands,
My cells, organs, juices, thoughts?

Am I not then Kansas wheat
and French cheese
and Smyrna figs?
Figs, no doubt,
the ancient Prophets ate?

~Judith Morley in Earth Prayers from Around the World: 365 Prayers, Poems, and Invocations for Honoring the Earth, ed. by Elizabeth Roberts & Elias Amidon

Picture found here.

Sunday Dance Blogging