PAGAN PUB MOOT

There is a large and diverse pagan community in my home city.  For some two years now, we have been meeting at a local pub once a month.  Last night was such a gathering.

For entertainment, we had "The Three Bards" (three talented men who sang and played and sang some more songs of the Ancient Gods), a group of spirited drummers that really heated up the cold  night, and a mini-fashion show by some local Stitchwitches.  There were only two of us, but what we showcased was fabulous!

Ellen wore a magnificent gown of copper brown and black brocade, a beautiful recreation of a Tudor style harking back to the mid-1500's, while I showcased a national Russian gown, called a Sarafan, complete with many strings of pearls.  It was a small beginning, but one that was appreciated and enjoyed by all.  Of course, we'll be doing this again!!

But the greatest thrill of these Moots is seeing old friends and making new ones.  I was delighted beyond words to meet up with a dear friend, Starr, whom I don't get to see all that often.  Conversations, hugs, introductions, reconnections, opportunities to plan further meetings - yes, that is what the moot is all about!

Not to be outdone, the day itself showed us manifestations of Mother Nature's powers.  It started out sunny and bright, and ended up with dumping a good quantity of snow while we were all enjoying the fest-fire that was kindled inside.

All elements last night combined and wove themselves into one fantastic night!

OLD POETRY...

"Small Encounters of the Very Close Kind"

On my way to work, I chanced upon a sight.

There at my feet a slender rod, a twig,

Stood up and called to me.

Jaded human that I am, I was about to pass

This prince of caterpillars as

Insignificant and trifling.

"Ah, not so," he cried.

I paused and looked more closely.

He truly was a handsome creature,

All chocolate brown with coffee stripes.

So proud he stood (two inches high in all)

With head and shoulders straight and tall.

His arms (I counted ten, but there were more)

He waved as he continued his address:

"Now, gentle madam, if I may be so bold,

Please mind your step, for though I am indeed

of noble blood, alas, it spills with ease."

Oh, I hastened to apologize. Then with

Fair words to both our kinds we parted.

I stopped again for one last look:

He was already gone back to his verdant world.

I turned to mine, knowing that

Before the summer draws to end

I'll see my friend again,

Flitting high above my head. 

"Last Prayer"

Last year, I looked up.  The vaulted sky

lay deep and dark, pierced through

with a thousand and one lights

     of stars.

The frosty crystal air

Swept the distance aside, until,

my heart, exaulted,

saw every star a promise 

     of God.

Last night, I saw the same sky.

The frosty crystal air again brought

within the reach of my heart

     the stars.

Each one was now a shattered fragment

of a dashed hope and broken promise

     of God.

How clear the night is!!

(Both poems were written around 1983, and published in the 1984 edition of There Is, Niagara Poetry Anthology published by the Canadian Authors Association Niagara Branch.)

Full Moon Energies

As of February 1st, I have been settling into my new apartment.  In order to make this entry have any relevance, I must give a bit of a background here - my last apartment, while very pretty, was quite literally a cave.  Of course it had windows, but most of them looked out onto the brick walls of the neighbouring houses. In other words, it was, as I just said, a cave.  I couldn't see any sunlight, moonlight, or the weather easily.  For three years, I have lived thus - and must admit to some deep satisfaction to lighting my world with the soft glow of candles.


What a difference moving into this new place!  I have huge windows facing east and south, and if I go out onto the balcony, I can also see quite a bit of the west as well. To the south of me is what we Hamiltonians kindly refer to as "The Mountain" (a foothill, really, in the grand scheme of mountains, but a mountain to us nonetheless). Soon, the black skeletal trees against the white snow will give way to a soft, lacy filigree of newly sprouting foliage, which will deepen to a dark green canopy.  Oh, how I look forward to seeing this beautiful change of the seasons!


But already, I have seen a blizzard or two, brilliant sunshine flooding my bedroom, wind making the nearby trees dance, marked the passing of the day from sunrise to sunset.  


And last night, ah, last night was the Full Moon.  I fell asleep in the fullness of our Lady's silver glow. How lovely it was to see the clouds fly by Her face, making Her a Lady of Mysteries and Shadows indeed!! I even saw a meteor, a ball of fire streaking   downward, as the wind whistled and moaned around my window - ah, how lovely that was!! 


I feel reborn!

Meeting with my Dad

Yesterday, I spent time with my Dad.  Let me tell you a little bit about him:

He is 95 at this time, and is still very independent.
He is a classical musician who to this day plays his cello, and composes music which is performed by several chamber groups regularly.
At age 70, he gave up smoking (a life-long habit), and became a vegetarian.
He still lives alone in his own home and is self-sufficient.

Well, that's a snapshot of who this extraordinary man is.

Unfortunately, we live in different cities, and don't get to see each other much, although we do talk on the phone on a regular basis.  Our meeting was not all pleasure, because certain legal papers needed to be signed.  But once that was taken care of, our lunch date was wonderfully reminiscent, and I even managed to surprise him with a certain memory - that of his first car!

I was about 12 years old at the time, and visiting with him (my parents had split up by then).  He told me he had a surprise for me, but was not forthcoming with the surprise for what to me seemed like a long time.  As the minutes ticked by, I became more and more petulant and impatient, while he just kept telling me that when I saw the surprise, I would not only be smiling, but laughing.  And *still* he kept me waiting!

Finally, after about a half-hour, he told me to get my sweater, and took me outside.  We walked for a couple of blocks to a small garage.  I was totally mystified now as he led me to it.  With all drama, he opened up the garage door and showed me -- his brand new second-hand car!

And to this day, I remember the make - it was a Henry J!!

(No, I wouldn't be surprised if no one knows this make now, since production was discontinued around 1954.)

I related the story and watched the memory of all this surface in him, until he was laughing heartily.

All I could think of as we parted was gratitude that I still have this relationship with him.  And to think - I carry these genes in me!!

Dream - Flying Over Waters and Huge Musical Production

I had two distinct dreams from last night.  This was the first one:

I am in a lake-side resort with some friends, about four or five.  The lake is clear and a deep blue, sparkling in the last golden rays of the setting sun.  Along the edges, I see large green aquatic plants, perhaps water lilies, that provide a beautiful contrast to the blue water.  The sky above is almost the same blue, but accented with fast-moving white clouds, now tinged with gentle orange and pink from the sun.

My friends tell me they have a new boat they want to try out, and I see them take it out of a storage unit.  It is indeed a work of art - silver filigree wings and sails adorn the dark polished wood hull.  It's large enough to hold all of us, but I am too slow, and the boat is cast off before I could get to it.  Without even thinking about it, I take off from the small hill and begin to fly over the waters, knowing I will catch up with the boat that way - but do I really want to now?

The view from above is spectacular.  The vessel is like a silver brooch on the dark blue waters.  Indeed, it reminds me of something that I would see in a steampunk show: ornate, all carved with such precision that the sun creates works of jeweled lace, ever-changing, but constant in it stately progression.  It maneuvers around the large green leaves, then darts out into the open waters.  My friends see me above them and wave to me, motioning me to come down to them, but for now, I am more content to float through the air.

I know that at this point I woke up and after falling back asleep, went on to dream this...


I walk into a large arena that is a-buzz with all sorts of activities - pianos being moved, sound equipment being set up, stage props arranged - and I wonder what it is I'm supposed to be doing here.  The scene shifts between this preparation and my balcony, which is now full of people.  Everyone seems to know me, and we're having a wonderful time with all sorts of food and drink.  My guests are Indian (Hindu), and I finally see that all the preparations for the performance are for their show.  I continue to play the perfect hostess, and at the same time, my backstage experience takes over, especially when I see the beautiful cotton and silk saris and tunics.  There is one man in particular - at once young and ancient, with lush black hair and eyes, and prominent hook nose, that is always around me.  He is dressed in a beautiful silk blue tunic that's embroidered in silver and pearls and matching pants.

Eventually, all is ready.  The arena is full of people - a hush falls over the audience as the chime of the cymbals and the ripple of the sitar begins the show.  The man takes his place in the centre, and suddenly the entire stage bursts into a kaleidescope of colours and sounds, as all the performers spill out of the wings and begin to dance, sing and chant.

The stage itself begins to grow, encompassing the entire arena in many levels, intertwining itself with all that are in attendance.  The music, and the swirl of colour is now enhanced by a fragrance that comes from the many cones of incense and bursting vases of exotic flowers ... our very senses are completely overcome...

Dream - Strange Movie and Broken Plates

As mentioned in my profile, I tend to have vivid and involved dreams.  Here is what I dreamed last night:

I am at the movies, which is reminiscent of "Alice in Wonderland".  While it is a movie, it is so interactive that it appears as real life as well. One image begins this, that of two little girls, the Mad Hatter, and the White Rabbit,  suddenly turning and giving each other a kiss.  It's a very sweet and endearing image, especially since they're all dressed in white and stand against a dark green foliage background.

The story progresses and I'm taken to a small oddly-angled house that is made up entirely of cupboard doors, which lead into small rooms at different angles and levels.  There is a beach nearby.  These doors are battered and weather-beaten, which I suddenly feel is an outward picture of what goes on behind these doors.  I know that there is domestic violence here and begin to plan ways of making it come to light.

It's obvious that others know about this, but are too afraid to talk about it openly.  Word has gone out that the "man" has gone away, and the neighbours begin to gather with new doors.  One pudgy, middle-aged man, with wispy ginger-gray hair, lays his door down and shyly says, "Your's are a bit scarred".  Strangely enough, I never see the woman to whom this is addressed and for whom this kindness is offered.

A festival feeling develops, and the whole neighbourhood gathers with food and drink.  Tables are set up quickly and I say that I have some plates for the cakes.  I immediately get my dessert plates that have images of different fruit on them, and dish out the cake.  A little while later, I begin to collect them, and find that they have changed.  Instead of fruit, they are now decorated with small white flowers on solid blue, green, red and yellow backgrounds.  I also see that the blue one is cracked almost in half, and it comes apart in my hand.  I put it down and pick up the next one, the red, which also literally disintegrates in my hand into three pieces.  I tell the people not to worry, that I can fix them up quickly enough with a little bit of glue, but when my next green plate also breaks in the same way, I begin to worry that some of the sharp bits may have been ingested by the party goers.  I retrieve the last yellow one that still has a piece of cake on it, and apologize to the woman for this.  I throw all of the pieces away.

Suddenly, the whole scene reverts back to a movie.  Once again I see the two little girls, The Mad Hatter and the White Rabbit turning to each other for a kiss.  The camera pans to the left a little and shows a car in the distance coming towards the crooked little house, and seeing that, I get a thrill of fear, because the house is still being fitted with the new doors by the Mad Hatter, and "the man" is coming home.  In my mind I see how all of this will be interpreted, and know I am helpless to be of any help to the unseen woman inside.

New Beginnings

On so many levels, February 2011 has been a month of new beginnings...

I have moved into a new apartment.
I have began new associations
And I have started this new blog.

Well, this isn't the first time I started, and then abandoned a blog.  Facebook keeps me very busy, but in talking with a friend yesterday, I was convinced that this is a necessary step in my journey, so here I am.   Through this site, I hope to meet and learn from like-minded people.

Well, that's enough to start things off.  Until later...