The Garden Forge; a visit to Brighid

You are standing in a clearing on a hill, surrounded by woods.

Before you stands a stone tower, the surface half-covered with moss.

There are ancient symbols carved into the stones and as you try to decipher them you notice a rough wooden door, dark with age.

You pull on the latch and slowly, the door opens enough to allow you to enter.

Inside it is quiet. Light filters in from windows high above and the air smells of wood smoke and blackberries. The floor is smooth and worn.  There is a stair to your left spiraling upward and to your right leading down.

You turn to your left and begin to ascend the stair.  The stone steps are even and smooth and easy to climb.  The light and air are warm and fragrant.  You can see glimpses of blue sky through the high narrow windows above you and you climb step by step up and around and up and up and up and around.  You can no longer see the door but you keep climbing wondering when you will reach the top.  Just as you are considering turning back you come to another door. 

The stair continues to spiral even further upward and you consider continuing your ascent but you notice a hammer hanging by the door. 

The door is a warm golden wood finely carved with intricate spirals and graceful symbols.  You test the latch and the door opens smoothly and easily outward into an orchard, filled with the sunshine of a bright summer day.  There is a path through the trees in front of you lined with blackberry bushes full of ripe black sweet berries.

You hear the sound of a hammer striking an anvil in a regular rhythm and you follow the orchard path to the source of the sound.   The trees are large and in full leaf and you cannot see beyond the ones immediately surrounding you. But you keep following the sound until just when you begin to think that the sound is actually your own heartbeat you step out from the next tree and find a roofed structure with no walls. 

Beneath the roof is a Forge.  The coals are glowing and a woman stands at the anvil beating the metal she is working, with the hammer in her hand. She is tall with a strong body and a presence that is even larger.  She seems to take up all the space within the forge.  Her short red hair, her entire body, seem to glow with flame. 

She plunges the piece into the basin of water beside her and the steam rises.  She then looks at you with bright hazel eyes and smiles a warm and welcoming smile, wiping sweat from her brow with her forearm.

This is Brighid, the Goddess of Smiths, the Mother of Midwives, and the Muse of Poets.  Warrior, Healer and Fiery Arrow.  Go to her and she will transform you, speak with her and she will heal you, listen to her and she will inspire you. 

When you feel it is time to go, thank the Lady and take your leave of Her.  Follow the path through the orchard back to the tower. The door stands open and you enter and descend the stair then pass through the open door to the place where you began.

So Mote it Be

I spent New Year’s Eve the way I do every year, doing magick and journeying all night to gain guidance from my Gods, Ancestors and Allies. I look back on the past year to remember the lessons and the moments of profound joy and the moments of understanding.  I seek to hear the voices of those who guide me to discover what they would have me do, where I should focus my attention and efforts. 

This year I am in the process of doing the work to accomplish my third degree initiation.  This year They have given me more than guidance, this year They have given me specific imperatives.  In every area of my life there are specific things that I must accomplish if I would follow ALL that they require of me.

I must be writing every day.  I must be actively crafting poetry and create at least one poem each month.  I must write at least one chapter of the novel and one short story each month. I must journal every day; I must post to the Journeys of the Runes and Stories from the Cauldron each month.  I must post to Exploring the Other Side of the Looking Glass each week and I must post to this blog for the Pagan Experience each week.  I must finish the book and submit it to a publisher before the year is out.  I must read my poetry in a public forum. 

I must find opportunities to connect with my local community.  I must engage in broader community and with family and friends each month.  I must begin to engage in opportunities to teach.  I must begin to read the Runes for others and improve my ability to communicate the things they tell me so that others may understand what they have to say to them. I must complete the first year of Shamanic training that I have committed to for the next two years.

I must spend time outdoors each week and I must journey each week.  I must continue my daily practice and adapt it when necessary.  I must visit the Sweat Lodge and make use of the opportunities that my astrological transits present to me to grow. I must complete my staff and I must strengthen my relationship with fire by learning new skills and engaging with the element directly.

I must care for my mundane life by being diligent in doing the things that are necessary.  By saving for retirement and keeping food in the house and seeing my chiropractor and getting a massage more often. 

There are many things that I have hoped to do over the past years, and some I have accomplished and some I have not.  But imperatives from those who guide me are not to be left to chance, they are vows of intent and naming them on this blog is the equivalent to stating intention in sacred space because for me this is sacred space.  And words said in sacred space hold power over us until they have come to pass.  I will accomplish those things my Gods, Ancestors and Allies have given to me to accomplish in this coming year by diligently applying myself to my commitments day by day.  So Mote it Be.

Yule

From the Darkness of the Void,

deep and silent,

on the longest of nights,

stars sparkle in the sky above;

reflecting sparks rising from the fires of Hope.

And in the East,

the horizon shimmers

with the coming Dawn.

on Releasing Power

Magick requires that all of our parts agree with our intent to use power.  But it also requires that our will is fully engaged.  The will to build power, the will to hold power and ultimately the will to release power, focused and with force towards our intent.

My mind might agree that a certain change is desirable.  My body might be able to participate in the magick and even to do the physical work that is necessary to accomplish that change.  My soul may agree that the change I seek is within its sense of purpose and integrity.  My spirit may see the benefit to my evolution and to the world.

But without my heart being moved beyond simple desire, to feel that it MUST be, the power will never be released with enough focus and intent to accomplish what I hope.

I have finally discovered what engages my will.  And this is the discovery that I have made, that my will is engaged by my Warrior’s Heart and that Heart is the Heart of the Mother. 

I believe that all of the worlds and every species (Human and Fae and all of the others) must be whole and well in order for the Universe to thrive, but species are made up of individuals.  The continued existence of individuals is essential to the evolution of each species. I have an uncompromising commitment to the sovereignty of the individual’s will as well as personal freedom, integrity and honor.  

Most of my work has been finding balance between light and darkness, between order and chaos, because both honor and freedom are required for integrity.

I have a strong need for autonomy, independence as well as for nurturing and caring for others.  I have compassion.  I value relationships. I value Life.  I value freedom. I value chaos.  I value TRUTH above all else.

The things that I hold sacred, that I value most, those are the things that engage my will.  Those situations that harm my loved ones, that raise my anger, that raise my fire, that move me, those are the keys to my power.  My greatest power is engaged by my greatest anger.

That is not to say that I must protect my loved ones from all of the pain life might bring to them.  To be honest, I do not believe that to be an ethical action.  I believe that the pain we experience teaches us and helps us to grow and evolve; and to keep our loved ones safe from that is to cheat them of life itself.

But to see my beloveds HARMED…that is another matter.  To see injustice done, enrages my Mother’s Heart and invokes the Warrior within me.  That is when Power will be released.

That is when I am at my most powerful.  When my Heart is filled to bursting.  

Invocation to The Dark Father

Recently my Patron had given me a vision of magick that he wished for me to cast.  I could not cast this spell indoors, it had to be done naked, in a wild place, under a sky filled with stars and a bright moon.  I could not cast it on my knees, or in supplication in any way.  He insisted that I stand and demand the magick.  I believe this was a lesson from Him, meant to teach me about my power and my strength.  Tomorrow is the second anniversary of this blog, I thought I would share this with you.  Thank you for walking with me on my journey.  

  

 Dark Father, My God of Long Night, Hear me!

 King of the Otherworld, My Lord of Storms, Hear me!

Wild Leader of the Hunt, God of the Whirlwind Hear me!

Heed my Call and Hear my Voice!

Arise my Glorious God and Harken to your Creature!

My Strong Father, My Lord of Raging Storms!  

Hear me now!

I am Your Daughter, Your Priestess, Your Witch!

Arise from your Throne in Annwfn!  

Heed the Call of Your Own!

My Wrath rises up within me!

My Anger burns and fills me with Flame,

With Heat that pours from my body 

in waves of Bright Power,

With Flames that Destroy all but my Will,

With Fire that Consumes and never wanes!

It Rises up within me until I am Fire Itself,

until I am Thy Burning Blade,

and naught can stand against Your Dragon Sword!

Arise my Dark Father and Heed Thy Warrior’s Will!

Under a Sacrifice Moon You Granted me Vision,

In the heat of the flames, You Gifted me Truth,

My Sacrifices have bought my Strength and Freedom,

Your Gifts have Sparked my Power, as You Desired,

I am Your Burning Flame!  I am Your Creature,

Hear my Call and Heed my Voice!

I am Your Creature, Your Daughter, Your Own! 

With Your Gifts and Your Visions in my Sight,

With Your Wild Spirit in my Soul,

With Your Burning Blade in my Heart,

And with all the Power and Strength 

that You demanded I find,

I claim the Desire You have placed within my Heart!

I am Your Creature, Your Daughter, Your Own!

Heed my Call and Hear my Words!

For they come from Your Own Heart!

By Moon and Stars and Fire and Night 

and Wild Magick!  So Mote It Be!

just sitting by the fire...

This past weekend I attended a small Pagan festival with a group from my Tradition.  About forty of us went camping in Virginia with about eighty other Pagans (that we did not know before).  It was raining and sunny, warm and cold, quiet and noisy.  There was learning and teaching, rituals and cooking (and dish duty for those of us that do not cook), eating, drinking and not enough sleeping.  There was laughter and singing, grumbling and bitching, making new friends and visiting with community.  It was both wonderful and exhausting.

I spent a good deal of time just sitting by the fire.  Not the “Big Balefire” but the small campfire in the quiet space at the edge of our encampment.  This was the most profound experience that I engaged in this weekend.  Each time that I had to leave the fire, to go to bed or take a shower, to eat or wash dishes, to attend a class, or a ritual, or to pack up and travel home, I was at least a little reluctant to do so.

From my place beside the fire, I shared in community.  I witnessed family and long-time lovers, two young people making a new connection, and a very wet mother and her two small children warming themselves beside the fire of new friends.  I heard the alarm when the smallest went missing and the joy of her being found wandering unharmed down the road the way little ones will do.  I heard funny songs and told the story of a zombie war and the cauldron at the center of it.  

I sang a chant of my own making and sought to gain answers from the embers.  I asked questions and learned about things from others with knowledge I do not yet possess.  I shared tears with a coven-mate whose heart is amazingly open and full of love.  And, alone for a brief while, I practiced tending the fire (successfully to my great satisfaction).

I had been told over a year ago on a journey that I need to spend time just sitting by the fire, and tending to it.  It was time well spent and I give thanks for the fire and for community.

Fire

Fire is dynamic and intangible.  Its effects can be measured, but it cannot be contained.  It can be extinguished, but not boxed or bottled.  Fire is not an object but, rather a state of becoming. 

Fire is transformation and change. It is destruction of form and release of energy.  It is heat and light and movement.

It is the wild-fire that rages and the lightning strike that sparks the flames, and the sunlight that causes life to grow anew.

It is the need-fire that provides warmth and preserves life, the torch that provides light that allows us to see and the hearth-fire that cooks sustenance for the tribe.

It is the campfire in the night, and the stars in the sky above, and the song of community shared.

Fire is the candle on the southern altar, and the sacred fire at the center of community.

Fire is the wand and the staff that act as conduits for the movement of energy and the energy we move through them and through ourselves.

Fire is the bright red flower in full bloom and the dawn turning to day and the noonday sun in the height of summer bringing the crops to fullness and fruition.

It is the firing of nerve synapses and the chemical reactions within every cell of the body.

Fire is the soul and the seat of desire, passion, will, drive, courage and righteous anger.  

It is the life force that fills the cauldron of warming, and the glowing ember in the cauldron of vocation that moves us to action and the fire in the head, that divine spark in the cauldron of wisdom that compels us to seek and explore that which cannot be found in the mundane existence of the sleepwalker.

Fire is the Phoenix rising from the ashes and the Dragon in the fearless flight of freedom.