2011 IN REVIEW

A week or so ago, I have accepted a challenge of writing a blog/Note a day for the next year and a day. So, starting today, I shall begin...

The year 2011 has been one filled with amazing twists and turns, letting go and letting in.  Turning points, defining moments, friends lost and gained, of moving out and moving on.  

January 1st began a frenzy of packing and preparations to move from a house I lived in for some 10 years.  February 1st saw me move into an apartment building, a box within a box type accommodations, and I had no idea what was in store for me here.  But I settled in quickly and really loved the feeling of security.  It was somethng brand new, a clean slate.  It involved another huge purge  which made me feel as though I was closing chapters in my life.  And beginning new ones.

Shortly after I moved in, I realized that friends who were instrumental in making this move happen began to make my life unpleasant.  I ended the friendships and realized I'd have to live with the discomfort of being in the same building together.  But new friends moved in, the Red Tent flourished...

My health took a downturn this summer.  Back in September I wrote the following: 

1. " Insomnia – it’s been about two months since I’ve had a run of solid nights’ sleep.  Very few dreams, and every night it’s a struggle.  Even naps are difficult to achieve, and I don’t remember the last time I had one.
2. I am wondering if my decision to not work any more may be contributing to this feeling – like it’s a let-down.  There are many projects I have at home to keep me busy, but again, the low energy is interfering with any sort of production.
3. I keep saying that if I didn’t know any better, I’d say I was depressed.  I’ve had this feeling before, many times – low energy, inability to sleep, avoiding contact with other people (Moot is on tonight, but I can’t go.  It’s also Felix’s birthday, and I couldn’t attend his party), not able to think clearly, totally unmotivated to do the simplest task, nothing holding my attention or delighting me any more.
4. I’ve been absent from my Priestess duties.  Mabon came and went, but I had no ritual or ceremony.  And yet, with this like with any other venture, it’s difficult to get motivated.
5. The continuing heat is weighing me down very much.  The idea of going out for a walk or to go swimming is quickly rejected because I feel I’m going to pass out every time I set foot outside."

Dizzy spells began to overwhelm me in June, and as a result of that I had to find myself a new doctor and give up work.  It took me a long time to realize how deeply this affected me, especially the retirement.  I remember waking up one morning after a horrible night of tossing and turning, and realizing that never again would I be doing certain things - never again, would I be looking for a job, or anticipating a new assignment, or worrying about that next paycheque.  Never would I have to hurry to catch the bus and think what I should pack for lunch.  It was over.  Done.  

I looked forward to this day, when I would stop working, so I could "really start working", but when it came, I found the adjustment very difficult.  No structure to the day, except what I impose on myself, meant a new way of time-management and self-discipline.  It was a difficult concept to grasp, much less implement.  The summer heat did not help - I had to finally acknowledge that summers were getting worse and worse for my health.  In spite of two AC's running at full capacity 24/7, I found myself burning up, unable to breathe, unable to enjoy the beauty of the mountain from my balcony, because going out onto the balcony meant sufficating in the stifling heat and humidity.  Summer festivals like WiccanFest would now be out of my life because of this - another closure.  

And so I gave myself over to grieving and mourning for huge parts of my life that have come to a halt.  It was as inevitable as my next breath, as birth and death, just another milestone on the road of Life.  Of course, I didn't recognize this as grieving and mourning, but I did recognize this as depression.  It had to run its course, and once it did I emerged a little bit wiser, a little bit lighter, and able to see around me a little bit more clearly.

While all this was going on, there were some great things happening too - contact with my father, the evolution of The Red Tent, taking studies from Wise Woman's University, my duties as wedding officiant - all these enhanced my life, filling in the spaces of what I had to let go of.  

And now, on the brink of the New Year, I stand at the edge of something brand a new.  Like a Phoenix reborn, like a serpant whose skin has been shed, I throw wide my arms to welcome whatever challenges come my way.  

I am a Crone, and I am ready to take my place among the Wise Women!!

Happy New Year!!

REMEMBRANCE DAY MUSINGS

Today is a date that’s full of power, deep with meaning, both civil and private.

Today is November 11, 2011 – 11/11/11, and twice our clocks will also read 11/11, in the a.m. and in the p.m.  Next time this date will be written this way is 100 years in the future.  But for today, I shall leave it up to the numerologists to tell us the significance of this.

Today is also Remembrance Day.  Wars past, wars present, wars that take our young men and women away to faraway places, from which some never return.  Wars that have made veterans of people who have signed up to do the ultimate duty for their country.  Wars that have returned men and women back to us with memories of indescribable horrors and loss.  We remember these men and women today, and thank them for what they have done.  I, for one, will never forget.

Today is Remembrance Day for  me, on a more personal nature.  On this day in 1970, I received news from a police officer that my youngest brother, my baby brother had died under very suspicious circumstances.  So much I can say here.  So many feelings that will always be with me, so many memories!  A life cut short – he was only 18  - so much promise snuffed out!  My brother, Vitaly, I will never forget you. 

Well, so much for the nostalgic, so much for the remembrances that open the old wounds and bring tears to the eyes again.  So much for the energies that ever bind the living with those who passed beyond the veil. 

Now onto some positive blessings this day brings…

Today, we celebrate the wedding of someone who is well known to many of you on Facebook.  Shibaten Spirits will be wed to his beloved, and may this day be one of eternal blessings and joy for them.

And finally, today is Full Moon. 

May She, who bathes us in Her silver light, bless and keep you, may Her energies of power and enlightenment bathe you, and may you find solace and comfort in the arms of the beautiful Mother Goddess!

About A Photo Seen Yesterday on Facebook...

Yesterday, I saw a picture posted on the Home page that really upset me.  Everyone else thought it was funny, and it got shared and more people laughed at it, but all I could do was shudder every time it went by.  I want to now explain why I felt the way I did.

It was a photo of a tee-shirt which read, "DADD:  Dads Against Daughters Dating.  Shoot the first one and the word will spread".

I find it hard to imagine what is so funny about this.  It immediately speaks of harsh control, instant judgement, and patriarchy.  It hides the young women behind high walls, while teaching the young men that none are good enough.  It implies that developing healthy relationships between young men and women is wrong.  That SEX is wrong.  

So why do I feel so strongly about this?  Quite simply, because I was married to a man who thought like this, not in jest, but in an unwavering conviction.  When my daughters were but six or seven years old, he was already warning them that boys were bad, and they were to stay away from them.  By the time they were ten, he was talking in terms of them being sluts - yes, SLUTS!! - if they were seen speaking with neighbourhood boys, children with whom they went to school with and played with for years.  By the time the twins were 14, one of them tried to commit suicide because she could not tolerate the pressures that were put on her by her own father!

In the Middle East this ideology reigns supreme - women hidden behind veils, not able to speak or have a voice, where marriages are arranged, marital rape and abuse not only tolerated but endorsed.  Yes, perhaps I'm reading too much into this "innocent" statement, but I've seen too much of this attitude in real life.  

What makes men think they can continue to perpetuate this kind of thinking?  What makes women think they need to tolerate it?  It hasn't worked up until now, what makes you think it will ever work?

It is an outrage and an offense to me.  No, indeed, I see nothing to even smile about in reading such a statement.  

ANGST - Part 3, or The Land, The People, The Traditions...

Recently, I've been speaking with a Scottish lady who is extremely proud of her heritage and country, and this started me thinking about how people are tied to their land.  Speak to anyone who has come from Europe or The British Isles or Africa, and you will find something very deep and mystical about their connection to their land.  Not just the country - but the land itself!

Pagans everywhere talk of this, but somehow here in North America it's not the same thing.  We're too new here.  This land in Canada really belongs to the First Nations people.  (I'm not trying to make any political statement here, only a spiritual one.)  They know every grain of sand, every tree, every body of water, each insect and bird as the connective sinews that bind them to the land and to The Great Spirit.  We can barely discern this yet.  We see the same trees and lakes, but only superficially, only on the surface.  They have not yet yeilded up their mysteries to us completely.

My father has that quality when he speaks about Russia and the Ukraine.  He speaks about the birch trees and that particular colour of blue the sky has in the autumn; it is not found anywhere else!  When he said that the Old Testiment of the Bible was written by the Jewish people for the Jewish people, there it was again - he recognized how strongly those stories spoke to the Hebrew people; and although adopted by people everywhere in the world, still these stories remain uniquely Jewish.

My recent angst and rant was fueled by the frustration that the true sense of community is still missing from pagan circles today, and perhaps this is lacking because we are all so new to this country/land.  We do not know how to totally connect with this part of the Earth and each other.  Our parents and their parents before them have brought their strange ways over to a land that is steeped in its own traditions and we are all trying to fit into it.

Transplanted values, transplanted Gods and Goddesses, transplanted traditions always take time to work themselves into a new setting.

A few years ago, I had the great privilege of harvesting and processing sweetgrass.  This small act has brought me understanding and connection to the native land.  It was very superficial - barely a scratch on the surface - but I sensed something here that was truly of this culture and tradition.  As elusive as it was, it opened my understanding of something not transplanted, but genuinely "here".  

Now that is true tradition! 

Moments that Count..

Written on October 5, 2011


The memories of yesterday are very, very precious to me.  I spent a glorious day with my father.  There will not be too many of these left for us but whatever time we have will be beyond price.

I was on the bus to Brantford early, at 8 am, and arrived there just in time to see my dad getting off the local bus.  We then hopped onto another bus.  This reminded me as to why I could never live in a city smaller than Hamilton - the transit system just plain sucks!!  And yet, this is what my dad does on a daily basis; it takes him at least an hour to get to his favourite store, Walmart.  We went there to have breakfast and to do shopping for me - he insisted!

And at his insistance, I bought a pack of socks and a pair of tights.  He scorned that and told me to pick out something "pretty".  Resigned, I went through the woman's clothing section and finally chose a beautiful silver-gray top with bling.  At that point I discovered that while that department was huge, taking up a lot of floor space, there was not a skirt to be found!  I couldn't believe it!  Hundreds and hundreds of tops, blouses and sweaters, maybe four racks of pants that were totally unsuitable for me, even a couple of racks of dresses, but no skirts!  Totally disappointed, I went to the electronics section and got some computer speakers.  I felt much more at home there.

Anyways, I showed dad the blouse, and he cast a dubious glance at it.  "A bit low-cut", he observed.  I laughed, and asked what exactly he meant by that.  Ah dads!  Still so protective...Another two hours later of the torturous bus rides, we finally arrived at his apartment.  There he got busy setting out the dinner he had made: beautiful stewed perch in a savory sauce, mashed potatoes, salad, peas, fresh bread and a glass of red wine (who said that red wine can't go with fish?).  It was a joy to toast his health, and enjoy this wonderful repast with him!  Leisurely, easily talking of many things, we shared this meal.  French vanilla ice cream topped with fresh raspberries was the dessert.

I took the opportunity to straighten out his telephone woes after lunch, and then we settled down for more conversation.  I must admit that at this point, I was hard-pressed to know what to talk about, when (praise the Goddess!) an opportunity opened up.  He showed me a book he's reading on Leonardo Da Vinci and commented on his "The Last Supper".  I asked if he's ever read "The Da Vinci Code", and while he didn't, he knew about it.  "Of course, Mary Magdaline and Jesus were married and had a son!" he declared, as though there was absolutely no doubt about it!  He went on to say that while he still considers himself a Christian, it's because of a life-long practice rather than any strong belief; he couldn't see how God could ever have a Son; that most of the Bible, especially the Old Testiment, was written by the Jewish people for the Jewish people and should remain there; that most of the sacred writings were butchered by the early Catholic church to suit its needs; that he didn't believe either in Hell or Paradise, that once he died there would be nothing.  "You were Christian once," he finished off, "do you still believe in God?"  Something in the way he said this led me to think that he knew something was different about me.

My mouth fell open at all these revelations - I was totally stunned!!  I started laughing with sheer delight and responded, quite openly, that I was now a pagan.  He didn't even flinch, and somehow instinctively understood what I meant.  Nodding, he said, "In old Russia, before Christianity was around, there was a God ..." and we both said in unison, "Perum!"  Now it was his turn to look at me in astonishment that I would know this.  And words tumbled out of us both, as he too learned about me.  

Somewhere in there, he said he would love to see me do a ritual or a workshop, and I promised him that this would be arranged.  He loves the fact that I have taken up writing, and when I read him some of the works I had saved on the Notebook, although he didn't understand them entirely, declared that I speak with much strength, and urged me not to give this up.  

I had a hard time keeping back tears.

He called me this morning to say how much he enjoyed the visit.  "You have a good heart and love people.  I can see now how happy this work makes you.  You are not Baba Yaga but a Babushka!"  

Yes, my dad understands and approves my Path!!

ANGST - Part 2

Written on October 3, 2011

Yesterday, I wrote about my dissatisfaction with all the craft politics that are happening in the pagan circles.  Today, I'm getting a bit personal, and speaking about myself, and what I am.

I am not your typical witch: 

1.  I don’t have a cat, nor am I ever going to get one. 

2.  I am without a partner, and like a cat, don’t ever want to get one. 

3.  I’ve been celibate for close to two decades (now there’s TMI, if there ever was any!). 

4.  I am an abysmal gardener, so herbs die before they can grow.

5.  I hate summer, because it does a really bad number on my health.

6.  I love large cities.  Country living is not appealing to me for too many reasons to list here.

7.  I do like animals, but am not wildly involved in animal rights.  Cows are provider of steak to me.

8.  You won’t be able to sway me with “cute”.

9.  I don’t see auras, feel energies, see dead people, do astral travel or encounter demonic spirits.  The basics of astrology escape me completely and numerology – well, it deals with numbers, and I don’t do numbers.  Magick like lighting candles without matches or a lighter, teleporting objects, reading people’s thoughts, or predicting future events – none of this is within my scope of talents. 

On the other hand, I’m very handy in the kitchen and can do some pretty good magick with food (bring in the herbs!).  One of these days I’ll make you some lemon-tarragon chicken, or boston blue fish in mushroom sauce, or my signature pasta sauce…

I probably could give more examples, but you get the idea.   In fact, I consider myself a witch much less than I consider myself a Priestess, but even there I tend to have my own view as to what a Priestess is.

Quite simply, I am someone who has dedicated my life to the service of the Gods.  More specifically, The Goddess, although occasionally I do work with the male energies.  This differs from most Tradition definitions that define priesthood as people who lead covens by passing on the Tradition “secrets” and leading the various rituals in the proscribed way.  And let me make this clear:  I really have no doubt that each of these people serves the Gods too.  

So, not having any of the supernatural gifts I listed above, what is it that I can offer any one?  I do have one gift (at least I think it’s a gift) that I treasure very dearly.  I have developed a direct and very clear connection with the Goddess, who in turn has graced me on many occasions by Her presence.  Whether She appears as Hakate, Quan Yin, Brid, Oya, Yomaya, or The Baba Yaga, I feel distinct characteristics and energies that identify one aspect from the other.

I love that!  I love being overtaken by this Divine presence, to listen to the words of wisdom that filter down to me, and to see my way open up in the manner of Her wishes!  Sometimes, when She speaks, I write this all down, and I swear it’s like taking dictation!  Not my words, but Her’s…

I also feel I have a gift of dreams.  I do not entirely believe that all dreams represent aspects of myself.  I honestly believe that occasionally I tap into the astral and bring back images and messages that come from a higher source.  For that I am indeed grateful indeed.

Something happened during the initiations I went through.  Ceremonies are very important and for this I am very grateful to my former Elders – they taught me how to construct, write and perform ceremonies and rituals that I still use today.  I use them not because they are “Tradition”, but because they make sense to me.  The integration of the Elements, the calling of the Gods, the working or spell-casting, are all necessary to open astral and spiritual doors to bring about the manifestation of the spells.  Most of my Workings are designed to give praise and honour, celebrate the Wheel of the Year, and only after that is done are petitions made for health of others, and other works.

As Priestess, I facilitate in this.  I perform rituals for this reason alone – that the spiritual and astral doors be opened here on Earth for the Gods to perform the magick.  And this is something that anyone can learn, something I will be very happy to teach!  My job as Priestess is to help people recognize this potential within themselves. 

No secrets, just mysteries. 

If there is one message I can give here this is it:  Everyone is an embodiment of the Divine.  Thou Art God, Thou Art Goddess, The Kingdom of God is within you, Know that I am with you always – all these speak of the same thing.  Everyone has the innate ability to connect with the Godhead without intersession from anyone else.  Everyone’s spirit is connected and entwined with the Great Spirit!  Once this is recognized, the rest falls into place, and you will know, completely and totally, that you are never alone!

ANGST

Written on October 2, 2011

It's been a long time since I've written a Note that wasn't a dream (come to think of it - it's been a long time for that too, but that's a different story).

For a number of weeks now, I have had a growing feeling of dissatisfaction welling up within me, actually culminating in depression.  A number of factors contributed to this, but I will speak of only one here.  Before I let loose, I must warn you, the contents here will not be popular, because I am going to go against the long-held beliefs that I cannot hold onto any more.  

But first, a bit of background.  

 I had been a Christian for the first part of my life, in varying degrees.  At first it was the cultural thing to do, and then I became "born again" and with that, an obnoxious evangelist.  Then one day, I woke up and found my faith had vanished.  Long story short, it sent me into a deep clinical depression that lasted for a couple of years.  This contributed to the eventual breakup of my marriage (although I think that would have happened regardless).  For the next few years, I became an agnostic, unable to believe in anything outside of myself, and a skeptic, even joining the  Skeptics Society for a while.

Eventually, I reconnected with some friends who were Wiccan. I have heard of paganism, but always dismissed it as inconsequential, but perhaps the time was right - I accepted an invitation to attend a woman's circle.  I felt my life change on a dime that night.  That gathering opened up a part of me that was starving for attention, that which I tried to shut away - my spirit.

 This couple, a High Priestess and High Priest, accepted me as their student. I loved being in Circle with my coven-mates, I loved the connection with the Goddess and doing rituals.  I studied until I was initiated into the First Degree. And I continued my studies. The feeling of "wrong" began to creep in at that time, but I was not able to identify it.  Unfortunately, by the time it all became clear, it was far too late - our relationship and friendship was shattered.  In that short, concentrated time, I learned more about Wicca and Traditions than I have in all the previous years.  So what went wrong?

 I was being constantly warned that I was supposed to keep silent,to keep my oaths, to not let out the secrets, etc., etc.  It got to the point that I was afraid to speak with anyone, especially some pagan friends that I was cautiously associating with outside the coven members.  It finally reached a boiling point, when I suddenly realized that I have never,ever been taught exactly what was oathbound! So I confronted my elders and teachers, and asked them point blank exactly what I was to take care of and not to speak about.  Imagine my surprise when the High Priestess, she who was always so ready with her teachings, unable to answer me easily!  She hemmed and hawed, and actually scratched her head,  and finally said she would send me a list, which took her a month - a full month! - to put together.  When I saw it, I laughed in disbelief, and again took her to task on it - telling her that half of it she broke herself with

 me, by teaching me these things long before my own initiation.

That's when I was completely cut out of the coven - which by that time was reduced to nothing, because everyone else was equally booted out for various reasons.  Her last words to me were "You cannot distinguish between what your heart wants and what is good from the Craft!"  Yeah, I'm still puzzled over that statement!

 Since then, I have been on my own, aside from a brief foray into another coven briefly.  I found I didn't fit there that well,  but by then I realized I have become so entrenched in my love for the Goddess, in all Her names and aspects, that I could not leave her.  So, I began to re-define some of the terms:

1.  A priest/priestess is someone who serves the Gods as They direct - not someone who hoards secrets to share only with a very select few.

2.  There is a difference between secrets and mysteries - the mysteries are available to everyone and invite exploration as though they were gifts.,

3.  There is a difference between wisdom and knowledge.  Knowledge is theaccumulation of facts, and everyone can get that.  Wisdom is the ability to take that knowledge and use it in the way that benefits all.

4.  Discretion is always a good thing.  This is wisdom at work - the ability todiscern when to talk, what to say, and how much to say.  But that's again different from "secrets".

5.   Initiation is an ongoing process where one is constantly opened up to the wonders and mysteries the Gods present. Outward initiation, by way of a ceremony, is important as confirmation of inward realization and revelation, but it doesn't stop with the "official" rituals.

I hate the whole secrets and oathbound mentality!  I hate the fact that one must prove the initiation to others before being accepted!  If one's spirit isn't enough to convince me of where they are in their path, no vouching by others will! If pagans can't talk openly among themselves, how can we expect non-pagans to ever begin to understand and accept us?  Furthermore, it occurred to me that Paganism, for all intents and purposes, really doesn't exist in the grand scheme of things.  Outside our closed covens (which are very secret and hush-hush, even among other pagans), Moots and yearly Pagan Pride Days, we are very separate, fragmented, and disjointed.  Coven members care more about protecting their precious secrets than they do in integration and unity.  

Everyone has met people who have extraordinary gifts - but these gifts are held in secret for fear of being ridiculed and demeaned.  Everyone knows people who have horror stories to tell about their experiences in covens run by ego-filled elders.  So I ask - who is available to teach children?  Where are the pagan schools?  Where are our temples?  Where are the elders that truly open themselves up to teach - truly teach! - the mysteries without fear, without reservation - those who require such teachings?  Nothing like this is available.  If they are, they're too secret and underground to make any difference in our community and lives.

Again, I say, paganism doesn't matter in our society at large, because of our long-held views that all this is to be so protected that not even another pagan is to know exactly as to what we do.  In thinking further about  it, I have seen two archetypes of what Priests and especially Priestesses are:One is the old crone at the edge of the village, living alone or perhaps with an apprentice, who is the village wise-woman.  She is the doctor, the psychiatrist, priestess, herbalist, and teacher for all people.  Whatever "secrets" she may have, she shares the results of this with everyone.  The other one archetype involves the temple priesthood communities - true communities! - where these men and women lived, ate, slept, and worked together, again, for the good of the people at large!  Nothing like this is happening in our pagan communities today.  

So, yes, in the grand scheme of pagan standing, I can easily be considered an Oath-Breaker.  I speak freely about my experiences.  I take the "harm none" statement with a grain of salt, because I have seen that it's an ideal and as all ideals, can be rather unrealistic.  I do not understand "Tradition secrets" because I was never taught them - and once I passed that certain point of no return, realized they're not worth a rat's ass.   I cannot love unconditionally - hell, I can barely love my kids that way, let alone the world at large!  But I do take my Priestesshood very seriously, because I do love the Goddess unconditionally, and as They direct, so I do, because in my understanding, that is what a Priestess is - a servant of the Gods!

Today I am an eclectic, I teach where I can, and run a woman's group according to the Red Tent Movement, through which I strive to bring forth and strengthen the Sacred Feminine within all women.  I still play my "Alexandrian High Priestess" card, because that is who I am, and then I go and do my own thing.  I've spoken of all this to a number of people over the years, but now am taking that final step out of the broom closet by making this public.  This is who I am, this is what will be evolved in me for the rest of my life.So mote it be! 

It's been a long time since I've made an entry in this blog - have been too busy dreaming and posting dreams in my other one to bother with the "real life", so here's my attempt to catch up a bit here.

I've been busy here too, doing this and that, but mostly I've been trying to survive the heat and humidity of summer.  This is not a good time for me - summer never is - so now, at the end of August, I am eagerly awaiting the return of fall.

The Wheel of the Year turns...

Three major additions have been made to my life that I would like to brag about a little:

1.  After more years than most of you have been alive, I have finally began an exercise program.  It took some doing, because the longer I avoided, the harder it was for me to start.  But thanks to a community centre that's just a couple of blocks away, and a wonderful new neighbour who was all excited to start there, I signed up for water aerobic classes. 

Wow!  What a difference this has already made in my life!! I learned to swim when I was a child, and was actually very good at it; but for maybe a half-dozen times in the pool in all these years, there was no contact with water at all.  This course has us doing full blown aerobic exercises non-stop for a full hour (twice a week), so not only am I getting my cardio, I am being kind on my joints!!  So that started me practicing my strokes as well.  It may not sound like much of an accomplishment, but being able to do a width of front crawl and one width on my back is an amazing feat for me in just four sessions.  I can feel myself building the strength and stamina and have no doubt that before long, I'll be doing laps!

So, being encouraged by this small success, I have decided to sign up for a yoga class in September.  I have never done yoga in my life, so this should be an interesting experience indeed!

Yeay for this 67 year old grandma!!!

2.  And speaking of classes, I have also enrolled in a virtual "university" that specializes in spiritual studies.  I have already completed a course on dreams and dream interpretations, and have enrolled in my next one - one that will plumb the depths of my childhood and will help me write an autobiography to leave as a legacy of my life.  Very excited about starting that one.

3.  And finally, yet another forey into conquering fear and self doubt, I have become involved in doing art!  Now mind you, I am no artist by any stretch of imagination, at least not when it comes to drawing and painting, but that's not the point.  The point is for me to enjoy myself; the point is for me to explore what I am from deep inside myself and bring it to a visual reference.  My dreams are far too detailed to just have them as words, so I have begun to render them in drawings.

Let me give you an example of how these connections were all made by a recent inspiration I had and posted elsewhere:

 

Let's call it The Red Tent through Dreams and Art...

One thing leads to another, like a small snowball rolling down the hill. And that's how it was when two factors crossed paths. And something new is born.

Lately, I've been experimenting with dreams and art. Now, I'm no artist by any stretch of the imagination (remember that when you look at the piece - lol), but that's not the important thing. What's important is using colours on a blank sheet of paper to express emotions and instinct that dreams may leave with you upon awakening. It also takes me back to a childhood - and I lose myself in the process. That's factor 1.

Thus it was that I found a group of artists here on Facebook that urge art for art's sake. "Do a mandala", came the directive. Okay. That's factor 2.

So, yesterday (Saturday) afternoon during my nap, I had this dream:

The Ruby Ring

There is a wicker shelving unit in the bathroom, and on it is a small enamil box. I sense it holds some bath salts. I see a glint of red on top of the box and notice a beautiful ring. I reach for it, but it's wedged between the box and the shelf, and it takes me a minute or two to wedge it out. All this time I'm seeing my hands as though through a lense of a camera.

The ring is a circle of rubies in a silver setting. I marvel at seeing it, because I know that I do not possess such a piece. Of course I try it on, and find that it fits perfectly on my index finger of my right hand.

As I drift to wakefulness a thought drifts through my mind that this is a representation of the Red Tent and the connectiveness of all women.

****

I decided to do my mandala on this dream, and while I was working on it, I also got this chant echoing in my mind, which I incorporated into the painting. :

Ring of Power, Ring of Might

Bless the women with your Light.

Ring of Power, ruby red,

Bind us as our flow is shed.

Ring of Power, without end

I reach my hand to you, Sister-Friend!
****

Somewhere in this time I have also done a wedding, and visited some family out of town, battled some not so pleasant health issues, and have decided to start sewing costumes again. 

But all those are stories for another time!  So until then...

THE WEEKEND

This past weekend I enjoyed two different outings that have left very big and happy impressions on me. 


On Saturday, there was a gathering in Brantford.  About a dozen people got together to discuss Dreams, Astral Travel and Shamanic Journeys.  Everyone had wonderful stories and dreams to relate, there were a lot of questions and everyone tried to better understand this complex and mysterious process the mind takes us through on a nightly basis.


It was also an opportunity to indulge in some good nibbles that everyone brought to share.  And we discovered there was a lovely albino corn snake in our midst!  She belongs to our hostess, and we all got a chance to pet her.  


Because I do not drive any more, I invited two friends to join me, one of whom had a vehicle.  It was good to get together, the lively talk made the short journey through the country-side very enjoyable.  It was a lovely sunny day - yes, all was right with the world!


Yesterday, I again got together with Julie (the friend with the car).  She had hoped that there would be more of a gathering of women to do crafts, but it was just me.  Unfortunately, I was not feeling well - the heat and humidity was doing something bad to my head - and after about an hour I had to be taken home again.  While it lasted, it was very pleasant, though, as we sat on the patio, under a large umbrella, she with her beads, and I with my cross-stitching, in a beautiful backyard which had many different gardens, and sipped on ice-cold lemonade.  


It was a very good weekend indeed!

A Chance Meeting

So yesterday, well, yesterday was a day that I will always look back on as one in which my life changed forever.  Of course, every day brings such changes, every day weaves something into the fabric of our beings that makes us different from what we were, but then, there are Days, with a capital D, that become defining moments.  The day delivered peace of mind and heart that I have never felt before.  

Anyways, that was the start.  Circumstances demanded that I get to downtown for some appointments, and after they were over, I slowly wandered around Jackson Square, and of course found myself in Coles book shop.  No big surprise there, since I often browse through books.  I noticed a pretty young lady  and for some reason "really" noticed her.  So, I drifted towards my favourite sections, and ended up at the New Age selection, and before long, she came over as well.  We smiled at each other as we chose one book or another to look at, when suddenly, I hear her say softly, "Lidia?"  

I was startled, because even looking fully at her, I honestly could say that I did not know her.  She reminded me of a time when we both lived at the YWCA some 10 years ago, bringing to mind all that we went through, and I still did not know who she was!  I apologized for this, of course, and we both laughed.  It was enough that she remembered me.  

Before long, we were in a coffee shop, enjoying cups of tea, and talking, talking, talking, and more talking.  We share many interests in common - much more than we had a decade ago, and we both agreed that this was no chance meeting.  

This reunion struck both of us as very significant, and reaffirmed in us both that we live in more than just this physical realm - we connect on so much more!  To me, it opened my spirit up again, because the past couple of weeks, I have begun to feel like giving up.  To her, it meant finding someone with whom she could share all that she cannot with most people.  

The moral of this story is that there are no coincidences, chance meetings are not so random, and that instinct is to be listened to.

Today is the first day of my new life.  I embrace it fully!

Wiccan-Fest 2011

 I did not really want to go to this wonderful festival.  My concerns about my dad lay heavily upon me, and the thought of being inaccessible for five days was bothering me.  Nevertheless, I took that chance and am very glad I did.  

Thanks to my friend, Kelly, for providing the smooth ride there and back.  We discovered early on that night time was not a good time for either of us, because one of us snored - lol!!  Nevertheless, in spite of our wanderings, looking for a place to grab some sleep, it all turned out all right eventually.  

The first clear memory that will be with me always, is of Alex showing up at the opening ritual sky-clad.  Literally sky-clad, since his robe was one that was patterned with blue sky and white clouds.  In addition, while working in the kitchen, he transformed into a red-horned demon whipping up the pancakes, a pirat scrambling the eggs, and a poor victim with a knife in his head cooking up the bacon.  Thank you, Alex, for your never-ending source of joy to us!!

I became brave enough this year to run a couple of workshops, one on The Red Tent and the other on Dreams.  Both went well, but the one on the Red Tent was absolutely electryfying! It led to a lot of personal sharing, tears, beginnings of healing within each of us.  We were joined by three young girls who had not yet experienced their transition to womanhood, and all three also spoke of their fears and aspirations.  Their wisdom was startling - "If we deny that part of ourselves, we diminish ourselves, we become less than what we really are".  I love that!

The workshops I attended were amazing.  "The Oracle of The Living Tarot" brought the Major Arcana to life as we became the archetypes!  Not surprisingly, I drew one of my favourite cards - The Fool - who has much to teach us indeed!  Thank you, Catharine, for bringing this to us!

Loved the workshop on Grimms Fairytales by Kenny Kline.  Earlier on, I bought the book, and spent quite a bit of time reading the stories and analysis, and how these stories have changed throughout the years.  I became immersed in the images of cottages and deep woods, of witches and animals that speak, of fairy folk and human maidens that speak of elemental powers.  

An African Prince and Priest, as Oracle, read my fate.  Now I must plan a feast for my friends.

In the relaxed atmosphere of the dining hall, a couple of new friends, many old friends and I spilled an abundance of words among us, words that encouraged, connected, strengthened and enlightened us all.

I spent a lot of money - more than I should have! - and purchased a beautiful gown of black and gold, a turquoise necklace and bracelet, a book, and a set of starfish pendants.  

And my last night there flung me into my own tale ...

There, at the edge of the woods,  I came across an empty cabin.  Neat it was with five empty beds, inviting me in with promises of peaceful sleep.  About me whispered the last of the words of rest and sleep, and I succumbed.

Magically, a bedroll appeared, along with some food and drink.  Surely this cannot harm me, I thought to myself, ignoring the many warnings not to eat or drink anything that comes from the land of the fey.  And so I did, and before long, felt myself being lulled into the soothing darkness.  About me there was a glow from the near-full Moon, casting all about me into a space where the familiar becomes strange, and that which is strange becomes even more inviting.  

I succumb to all this and after having a bite and drink of the fairy food, I lay down.  I drift, drift towards the darkness of sleep, when all of a sudden, I am startled by a bang on the door!!  Terror seizes my heart!  Who is it?  Who else comes to the door of the empty cottage at the edge of the woods?  The door flings open and outlined against the light of the Moon stands a man!  

Ah, who can this be!?  A handsome prince or an ogre?  The woodsman or the Bear?  

He appears as startled to see me sitting up in bed as I am to see him in the doorway.  "I am but a traveller on this road," he says with apologies, "and I chanced upon this cabin at the edge of the woods.  My apologies, my lady, for I did not mean to startle and frighten you.  May I beg you for this boon, that I may sleep in this far corner?  But not just yet, for I must gather some things from the forest first.  I shall just leave my pack here..."  And with that he disappeared.

Now I remember all the tales of old, and realize that it is not as it all seems.  That by staying in this cabin at the edge of the woods, I may be in mortal peril.  Still partly trapped in the fairy world by the food and drink of magic, I struggle to move away from this enchanted trap.  My bedding disappears as though it never was, and I finally am able to open the door and step outside.  I do not look back, but quickly, as quickly as I can make my way deeper into the woods.

I do not know how I came to see the light of the morning, but when I did, I was happy to see that I was again back in the land of mortals and my night of night of enchantment has passed me by without claiming my soul.  

But I do wonder - just who was that man who knocked and came into the cabin, that empty cabin at the edge of the woods?  Ah, some things must always remain a mystery...

WOMAN IN THE MIRROR

WOMAN IN THE MIRROR

Lidia Tremblay

June 9, 2011

Who is that old woman staring,

Staring back at me from the mirror?

Lined, sagging,

Deep gray shadows

Hiding the eyes?

Who is she, that stranger, staring,

Staring at me,

As though she

Knows me, hears the

Beating of my heart?

From the deep recesses of memory

I see another face

One I dimly recognize

but do not quite see;

Superimposed, 

Same but not the same,

And I wonder, I wonder

When did I become the

Old woman in the mirror?

REMEMBERING BARON TANCRED OF RISING WATERS

He was never still, always running hither and thither and yon.  He made sure that all was going well in the kitchen, creating works of art, the wood sliding through his hands like butter as he shaped it.  He wore the cornet and with the same ease as he would wear a baseball cap.  He gave great hugs - oh yes, I will always remember that about him! - he did indeed give great hugs!

And the last time I saw him was at this last 12th Night, where I greeted him in Russian (it was a Slavic event, after all), and saw, perhaps for the first time, Tancred going silent and mystified.   Sigh - that was a sight to behold indeed, good gentles!

He also was sitting down.  And that mystified and disturbed me.

Upon hearing of his passing, an incredible vision filled my mind - Baroness Fiona, Baroness Elena, King Osis, King Sarnak (sp?) and all the good and great gentles that have passed on before him gathering to greet another son coming into The Great Hall!  I know Valhalla was in envy to see the feasting and rejoicing that occurred at that moment.  Of course, Valhalla had a place for him too - they just had to wait their turn in honouring this warrior!!

I will miss you deeply, Your Excellency! I will miss you deeply, but I will never, ever forget you!

MUSINGS ON EARTH DAY AND GOOD FRIDAY

WARNING:  CONTAINS STRONG FEELINGS AND OPINIONS

This will not be a popular Blog for people to read.  It's something that has been bothering me for a long time, and is finally coming to a head.  Today, Earth Day and Good Friday rolled into one, it's tearing me apart with all sorts of conflicting emotions that I must express.  So here it it:

Men, you screwed it up royally!  You have had control over the Earth's dealings, comings and goings for millennia, and all that you're doing is messing things up more and more on a daily basis.  

Let's go back to the beginning for a moment - in the beginning, when humanity was gaining foothold on this world, there was only Goddess.  Only The Mother!  All historical and archaeological evidence points to that fact.  The balance was contained in the Sacred Feminine because She held the male and female within Herself.  It was simple, natural and good.  Women learned and then taught others about agriculture, weaving, and the built societies.  Their Moon Blood was considered sacred, for it was the tangible connection to The Mother from whom all came.

And then, some man realized that there had to be a God - and with that notion came wars, conflicts, subjugation of women, and power over.  Men had to claim their "rightful place" in this world.  If women bled in peace, then men would bleed in conflict and through sacrifice.  And women were deemed evil.  The male sky gods were given the power to create and birth only as a woman and the Goddess can, this claiming supremacy over all.  The Goddesses themselves began to suffer, declare their place under the rules of the Gods.  No wonder women bought into this lie!  

So even in today's world it's still a man's world, because somehow women bought into the fact that they are somehow less important then men.  Earth Day, celebrated today, is supposed to be truly Mother's Day - The Mother who is continually plundered, raped, and made subject to man's will.  Man-made disasters and natural ones, which in most cases can be traced to disrespect and misuse of the resources we were given, are all around us.  Most CEO's of the big corporations that are responsible for this are men.  The religious organizations are run by men.  Most countries are run by men.  Most domestic abuse is inflicted by men upon women.  

So again I say, men, you screwed it up!!  

On this Good Friday, when one Man tried to make it better, all His teachings have been misconstrued and made into Manpower over the destinies and lives of others.  You've screwed it up again.

Maybe it's time for us women to take over.  Maybe it's time to bring back The Mother, the Supreme Creatrix and have Her teach us what we have forgotten.  No, not maybe.  For me it's the definite.  The balance is in Her hands only.  

Persephone  will NOT be raped any longer!

Hera will NOT be suffering the infidelities of Her consort!

Innana will NOT be left to moulder in the Underworld forever!

And The Mother WILL be honoured and listened to!

 

Earth Day

I woke up with many conflicting emotions this morning that I am still trying to sort out - anger, confusion, sorrow - as I look around this Earth day and see that there is little to be Happy about. Forgive me this descent. Be sure, like Innana, I will arise again out of this with renewed strength.

HOW THINGS CHANGE!

On Wednesday, April 6th, my life changed forever.  


It is funny how it's the little things that make this happen, little things, like having a something delivered, which now becomes part of one's life.


For over two years now, my father kept promising me the gift of a baby grand piano he had at his house.  For one reason or another, the timing was never quite right for this.  To begin with, I was living in an apartment where it would absolutely not fit in, and once I moved into my new apartment, it took some time to arrange a mover.


Well, all that was put into motion last Wednesday.  Right in the middle of one of the worse cases of bronchitis I have ever experienced, and some 6 hours after the original delivery time, it arrived.  The entire energy of this place changed and now some days after the event, I am still trying to figure out how to 'fung shway' the place!  Along with the piano I also inherited a beautiful carpet and two boxes of what my dad called, "pretty dishes" - some lovely tea cups.


At first I put it to me being sick and being slightly stressed by this new acquisition, but as time went on, I had to admit to one strong emotion - sadness.  Absolute, overwhelming sadness, almost to the point of tears.  I could barely stand to look at this beautiful instrument, let alone play it.  


I realized the following morning what caused me to feel this way - with the moving of the piano, my dad had shut another piece of his life away.  Although he didn't say anything to make me feel this, I knew that this was indeed the case.  In a couple of months another phase will begin and end - he will be moving out of his own home into an apartment.  And yet again his world will get a little bit smaller.  


He loved this piano.  He spent hours composing music at that keyboard, right up until the last moment.  I feel his presence there every time I touch the keys, and feel as though I have ripped something very precious away from him, even though he's been after me to have the instrument moved for over two years.  


I have since made it a point of playing every day.  I have started my scales and exercises, learning how to read music again, and always with the lingering feeling of my dad there.  I hear his voice in my head correcting my hand position or encouraging me to try that difficult passage again.  


And I hope I will never lose that connection.


My greatest wish right now is to learn and perform two of his original piano compositions for him.  I can't think of a better way of thanking him for this incredible gift!


But first, I need to have it properly tuned up.  It's in such bad shape, it's making my teeth hurt to play it for any great length of time.  

PAGAN/CHRISTIAN

Yesterday, there was a discussion on FaceBook I participated in briefly.  It had to do with how one could be a Pagan and yet love Jesus at the same time. I promised to revisit this subject after giving it more thought, and this is what my response was:

Good morning - as promised yesterday, here is my response to yesterday's discussion.  I have just spent over an hour trying to write what I so clearly see within myself on this, but it's not coming easily.  So, I'm just going to keep it simple here:
  
If you take only what is attributed to Jesus, His words (especially the Sermon on the Mount and the Beatitudes), His interaction with His disciples and in particular his interaction with the women around Him, you have a picture of someone who is indeed very easy to love and follow.  

The problem comes in when men (yes, specifically "men", because women were not allowed any voice in the matter) decided after the fact to make this a religion that is controlled by men, and interpreted the scriptures to suit their needs.  The Church born out of this has determined the course of history right up to the present day.  Let's for the moment set this aside and go back to the simple beautiful message of Jesus Himself, and you will see that the Church bears little resemblence to what He was trying to say.


He honoured women - the Church put them into a such a subserive position, women are still trying to climb out of that hole.
He honoured peacemakers - and the Church has been slaughtering in His name to prove that point ever since.
He honoured a simple and direct relationship with the Divine - and the Church has in its quest for absolute power, put so many layers between a human heart and that Divine so as to cloud and obscure everything but its own control over the masses.

Jesus said, "...on Earth as it is in Heaven".  Pagans say, "As above so below".
Jesus said, "The kingdom of God is within you".  Pagans say, "Thou art God, Thou art Goddess".
Jesus said, "Blessed are the peacemakers".  Pagans say, "Harm none".


Same things said in almost the same way.


So by you saying you are a Pagan and love Jesus should not present any contradiction, if by being a "Pagan", you honour peace, acknowledge the Sacred Feminine, and do not need an intermediary between you and the Divine.


If you strip away the layers of what Man put there, you will find a simple, beautiful truth that resounds the same message among all religions of the world for all people, regardless of what religion or spiritual path you may walk.  


I hope, my Lord, this serves to set your heart and mind at ease." 

LAST WEEKEND IN REVIEW

It was a busy week, followed by an even busier weekend.  In fact, I feel coming back to work actully is giving me a rest!

Since I recently moved, I had decided that a Housewarming party was in order.  This was combined with an Equanox/Ostara Ritual .  In attendance were about a half-dozen guests, who enjoyed a pasta dinner I cooked up, a variety of salads, and of course, mounds of chocolates of every kind and description.   The Ritual was one giving homage to that delectable confection, and was abundantly enjoyed by all, especially when we began devouring the Sacrificial Bunny.

Entertainment consisted of a beautiful one-woman play, relating the story of a Japanese Goddess Amaterasu.  Thank you, Starr, for this unforgetable performance!

Eventually, all but Starr, left, and the two of us continued talking into the wee hours of the morning.  This is highly unusual, for I go to bed promptly at 9:00 pm each night, but because we do not get to see each other very often, it was well worth the time.  After a few hours of sleep, we kept up the stream of conversation which has left me fully inspired, as always, with the vision of new and shining projects to persue.  Once Starr was on her way, I sort of collapsed, but with yet another upcoming event planned for Sunday, I eventually organized everything for it.

On Sunday, there was a wedding I had to officiate.  The last details of preparation became a ritual in themselves, my movements slow and contemplative, while I now focused all my attention to the upcoming ceremony.  The venue was a beautiful secluded outdoor location, a lookout overlooking a gorge and waterfalls, surrounded by trees and elements.  I got to the site ahead of the wedding party, and was there to greet them when they all came up the hill.

It was a bit windy, up here on the hill, which proved a bit problematic when it came time to light the sage for smudging.  I thought I was well prepared, but both the lighters refused to work, even though they were lighting just fine inside.  Finally, we managed to light the sage, and the wedding went on.  Beautifully unfolding, like the petals of a flower, each stage progressed.  Joy, laughter, tears - well, of course!  Gifts, blessings, congratulatory hugs all around ... and before we knew it, the young couple were married!

Rituals and ceremonies like this tend to either take a lot of energy out of me, or energize me completely. In this case, I felt drained and empty inside, but in a very pleasant way.  I feel the need at such times to be alone, to contemplate what has just happened, and to ground myself with gentle pampering.  Leftover chocolate was great for this, as was a good book.

And of course, there was the glorious, gorgeous Super Moon overflowing with silver blessings on Saturday night.  I spent quite a bit of time on the balcony watching Her rise in the east, prayed and meditated in Her energies, and when I went to bed, I found it to be totally bathed in Her light!  I didn't want to fall asleep and indeed succeeded in seeing Her travel across the clear dark sky for a while, before sleep actually swept over me.  Wow!  How powerful and beautiful that was!!

All in all, it was an amazing weekend that I really enjoyed.  And now, it's back to the realities of work and the chores of daily living. 

Blessed be!!