Waiting...

There is something growing, shifting, quickening inside me, a new life gestating inside my soul.  It has no name as yet, no voice, no form, but it has a heartbeat, faint yet steady.  Almost undetectable, growing from the quantum singularity that has frightened me for so long.  I feel as though it has always been there, that there was a time when I knew it and was unafraid.  I try to remember, I try to become aware of it, to listen with my heart.  I try to be silent and wait for it to make itself known.  Like a wild creature in the woods, not looking at it directly, being still, being quiet, waiting. It feels familiar and I know that I want it to awaken and be born within me.  What that means exactly is yet a mystery but, I am no longer afraid.  I will wait, still and silent, until the time for awareness manifests.

I am...



I am golden, glowing, shimmering, sparkling, shining stardust.

I am Abred and Astral, Annfwn and Avalon, Gwynfyd and Cergaunt.

I am Awenydd and Awen.  I am daughter and mother, sister and lover.

I am artist and student, gypsy and teacher, philosopher and stargazer, cloud-watcher and truth-finder.  I am wisdom-seeker and secret-keeper.  I am storyteller and peacemaker.

I am sunlight on the meadow and moonlight on the path.  I am a star shining brightly in the night sky and the planets dancing in the crown of stars.

I am the wind in the trees, and the falling snow, and a pebble in the stream.  I am a raindrop and the flowing river.  I am the mist rising from the lake.  I am the thunderstorm on the horizon and the blackbird flying on the storm.

I am an owl flying silent in the night.  I am the hawk soaring high in the sun.  I am the heron gliding low across the lake.  I am the bear traveling the star-road and a deer running through the forest.  I am the wild boar ferocious and unyielding.

I am the willow by the pond.  I am the sycamore standing beside the stream.  I am an apple in the orchard.

I am a miner and blacksmith and bard.  I am healer, hunter and witch.

I am Erhys feeding the fire and Neryll sitting by a still pool and Cyfarwydd of the tower.

I am Gwydion and Odin and Manawyddan and Cernunnos and Gwynn ap Nudd.

I am Artemis-Diana, Brighid and Bloudwydd, Rhiannon and Cerridwen and Arianrhod.

I am golden, glowing, shimmering, sparkling, shining, stardust.

Keeping Faith with the Shadows

In the past ten days it seems as though every fear I have ever had has crept out from every crack and crevice and closet to become obstacles on my path, to make me trip and stumble.  I have not been able to do more than the most simple and rudimentary practice.  I have not been able to hear or to travel.  I have not wanted to leave the safety of my home. Going to work has been an exercise in anxiety.

 I have tried to write letters to loved ones without success.  I have tried to journal, but have only been able to scratch out the most clumsy and awkward of phrases to document the banality of my daily life.

This life feels completely void of magick, poetry or joy.  There is no pleasure or hope or connection.  It feels as though I am completely disconnected from all that I love.  I am trapped in a gray wasteland with no color, no warmth, no light.

For me this is the “Dark Night of the Soul” This disconnection, this cold numbness of my heart, this deafness of my soul, this crippling of my mind and muting of my voice.  This despair brings moments when I doubt there is any reason to keep living.  If this is what my life is to be, I don’t want to face the future, I would rather quit this life altogether.

But I have been here before, many times before.  I may not truly believe at this moment but, I will find a reason to wake up tomorrow.  I will keep waking up until this grayness passes.  And it WILL pass.  I know that it will because I have been here before and if I keep waking up, the magick will return to my life.

I tell you this because this is a part of living with the shadows and I know that I am not the only one.  I tell you this so that you will understand that even in this wasteland, there is hope, even when I cannot see it, or feel it, or hear it, the light is there.  The beauty is there.  This is faith, to keep waking up until the magick returns.  I will keep breathing until it returns.  I will continue to keep faith with the shadows.

Earth-Bound

I had planned on journeying on New Year’s Eve to new places on the Astral; by way of a path than I rarely take.  I know the path leads there but, as sometimes happens, I found myself unable to pass through the Void.  I tried several times but to no avail. 

I have in the past found myself “earth-bound” and it is both frustrating and self-imposed.  And so the task becomes to find the reason that I have tethered myself to the mundane.  Balance is very important and it is necessary and beautiful to engage in the world in which I live in the physical but, exploring the otherworlds, seeking visions and dreams for the future ,is also necessary and important and profoundly beautiful.

I recognize this tethering as a function of my “control mechanism”.  And that it is most likely a reaction to some fear that I am not facing.  So the logical thing would be to identify that of which I am afraid.

I will not go into the trail of thoughts that lead me to identify the fear but, I will expose it for what it is.  It is irrational and unrealistic.  I am afraid of not returning.  I am afraid of what happens if I cannot regain the world of responsibility.  If somehow I cannot function and support myself, I could lose my autonomy.  I could be institutionalized and find myself again in a world where I am under the control of those who would condemn and try to destroy my beliefs and the freedom of my own mind.

I have lived in a place like that, and I survived and discovered strength I did not know I had but, it cost me years of awareness and almost cost me the ability to know joy.

I spoke about it yesterday with my ex-husband and he reinforced the truth that I am an adult and no one can commit me, and certainly not to a place like that again.  He also reminded me that I am too strong to lose myself and my ability to take care of myself and my responsibilities. 

It was good to hear him say that, knowing how hard I have worked to achieve my independence.  The fear is irrational but, until I identified it and faced it and named it and tested it, it held tremendous power over my soul.

The fear of it still tightens my chest and closes my throat, so I breathe and try to relax.  It will take me a while I think to overcome it enough to journey again to those wondrous lands where I find truth and dreams.  In the meantime I focus on those moments when I have experienced the power and beauty and profound joy that magick holds for me.

I will never again be under the power of that which would kill my soul.

So mote it be. 

A Spell for Travel

Bear

Sleeping deep within the mother

you walk the dream-time,

traveling the star-road

through the void.

In the forest of the otherworlds,

wisdom-stones beneath your feet,

in silence and in power,

instinct mingles with intuition

finding truth and emerging into new light.

The Magick of Tears

Tears are a physiological response to physical or emotional distress.  But that is not all that they are.  Tears are also Magick.  They can be an expression of any strong emotion or any strong connection. 

I weep during ritual, often.  It has become almost a joke among those in my coven and some in my community.  Sometimes those who don’t know me well are concerned when they see me weep.  My High Priest used to be very uncomfortable with my apparently emotional state even before ritual had begun.  I am pleased to say he got over it…at least mostly.

I refuse to be ashamed of my tears; I also refuse to fight them.  I live my life in a generally controlled state.  In my mundane life I rarely ever cry (except alone in the dark on the long nights).  For me to weep with someone takes great trust.  I believe that most people are not comfortable with the tears of others, or with their own for that matter.  Many will try to “comfort” but for me such a reaction is a signal that I “should not” feel as I do.  I do not need someone to comfort me in that moment; I need them to allow me the space to express what I feel.

Tears in ritual are a different matter.  They are a signal that my heart is open, that I am open.  They are the result of the magick flowing in me and through me.  They are evidence that I am connected to the others in the ritual and that my magick is working.  If I am disconnected from the energy, I cannot cry.  If I am observing rather than engaging, I cannot cry.  I do not weep every time that I am engaged in magick but, I am capable of it and I do not attempt to control it.  For me that is a part of the magick of ritual.  For me that is a requirement of engaging, that I do not attempt to close myself off from it.

Lately I have become aware of another kind of connection, and because it is the nature of my connection to others it manifests as an emotional experience.  I do not “see” the fae, and I only “hear “when communication is in the form of language, but I have noticed communication from some of my “unseen” loved ones on a more regular basis and I have begun to recognize the difference between my own emotional reactions and communication from those connections manifesting as emotional experiences.  Sometimes that results in tears.  I do not know why.  I do not know if they experience emotions or if my weeping for them helps them in some way or if it is simply the easiest way for them to make me aware of their presence in my life.  It matters not.  I am grateful for the gift of connection.

I am grateful for tears in ritual and for a community that teaches me to trust and for loved ones who, regardless of their own discomfort, allow me the space to weep in ritual, while making love, or in simply sharing our mundane lives.  I give thanks for the Magick of Tears.

Stories from the Cauldron

This blog is about the Shadows, about my spiritual journey and my search for beauty and light among the darkness.  I think that it is important to keep it on point.  However, life has many colors and shades and I am a writer so, I started another blog a short while ago to simply share stories and poems that I have written.  I want to share that with you as well and so…

http://storiesfromthecauldron.blogspot.com/

I hope you enjoy it.  Merry Christmas to you all.  May the Light glow warmly in your hearts.

Blessed Yule.