OSTARA MUSINGS

I sit between my altars this morning; to the left of me stands Persephone, rising out of the cold, dark Hades, rising amid the soft yellow flowers, crystals, and eggs containing the new life of spring.  To my right, is a fairy altar, complete with the Green Man and Lady Gaia. 

But the most important symbol standing by Persephone is the set of scales.  This is the time of Balance, of Equality.  Day and Night are of equal length.  Tomorrow, that will all begin to shift.    

But just for today, there is Balance.

It is a time for me to stand at the fulcrum, not tipping too much one way or another.  And so I imagine myself, balanced in the centre.  To the left of me is darkness of night – a place of rest and intersection, a pace of cold winter where seeds lie dormant but already stirring with latent life.  It is a place of silvery shadows cast by the Moon.  To my right is the light of day – a place of vibrant golden warmth as the Sun grows into His power and season. 

And I, in the middle am suffused in the light of both my Goddess and God, holding the beauty and potency of both.

This day I examine the seeds of my emotions – all emotions!  For I am a creature within which lies anger and frustration, jealousy and hatred as well as love, joy, delight and encouragement.  Do I need to let out the destructive forces to burn away the stubble of last year’s unwanted weeds?  Or do I with gentleness replace these weeds with new seeds?  Both are equally valid in their own way, and it is not for me to deny what dwells within me, only to learn how to use it.

Today I examine the shadows my life has encountered and has cast on others.  Shadows are very much needed our lives, for seeing things in pure black or pure white are equally as blinding.  We need the blending of Light and Dark to give us perspective and define the shapes, the peaks and valleys in our daily lives.  Are my shadows soft?  Do they illuminate as much as they conceal?  Or do they slice with the sharpness of a dagger?  Sometimes that’s needed too.  Do I have the discernment in knowing how to use both?

Today I examine the physical state of my life too.  In order to allow for new growth, it is necessary to balance it out with the burning away, of purging.  The blades of the plough dig deep into the soil, heedless of whether it slices bug or root, in order to ready the furrows for new plantings.  What do I need to purge and get rid of?

Be it planting a new garden, awakening to new inspiration, or perhaps realizing that the seeds of last year didn’t quite get acted upon, that those ideas need to now be nurtured into existence – all this needs to be considered at this time of Vernal Equinox.  Balance, I see, will extend into the rest of the year, as the scales will tip further and further the balance will come in another way.  Around the world, we will see a shift – longer days here, shorter days elsewhere.  Planting here, reaping there. The seeds I see here are not only the seeds we throw into the ground, but also the seeds we plant within our souls and spirits. 

Oestara, that beautiful Germanic Maiden Goddess, brings to us proof that life continues, with the joyous multiplying of life.  Persephone is no longer bound underground, but bursts forth in hope.  Demeter in Her gladness gives us abundance. 

Shining Lugh warms the skies with golden radiance.  Sol Invictus pours His rays of life upon us.  Jesus has risen from the grave – Hallelujia!!

And soon, when the Scales of Balance will tip just a bit further, The God will come for his beloved Goddess with a jubilant shout of love, as together they will join in that eternal dance of fertility.

But for now, I stand on the fulcrum, and keep the balance of letting go the old and anticipation of the new; of watching the shadows coalesce upon me from both the Moon and the Sun, the passing darkness and the emerging light, between the Goddess and God, and I rejoice and give thanks for all!!

Flights of Fancy - A Short Story

A while back I was inspired to do some creative writing, and this was the result.  The inspiration for it was a dream I had on December 3, 2011 - you can check this out in my other blog, "Dreams, Dreamers and Dreamwalkers".

FLIGHTS OF FANCY

Lidia Tremblay

February 9, 2012

Sarah set down her morning mug of tea and snuggled into her warm wrap.  Looking out the large patio doors, she did not really see the filigree of fresh green that now clothed the trees.  Instead, it became a backdrop as she reviewed the dream from the night before.  A gentle smile lightened her face.  It was a good dream, her favourite kind.

Her faraway look sharpened into the present moment as she took another sip of the fragrant Monk’s Blend tea.  She reached for the heavy notebook which now held all her dreams, and began to write.  Sarah preferred to do her journaling the old fashioned, organic way, watching the letters take on their own shape and tell their own story, rather than seeing the uniform black marks appear on the white laptop screen.  Her book contained not just the words, but also pictures, margin notes, cross-references and even poetry inspired by her nightly journeys.  “Flights of Fancy”, she called them.

“Some time at around 4:30, I woke up briefly, and decided to go sleep on the couch for the rest of the night.  Almost immediately, I felt myself gripped by paralysis, and know that I will be doing some flying soon.  During the initial separation of my astral self from the body, all was very clear and "real" but from that point on…”

As the pen glided across the page it brought back memories of utter terror:  sprawled on the bed, aware of everything but unable to move, with a sound of a thousand angry bees buzzing in her ears.  It started about two years ago, and hit her with increasing frequency. 

“The paralysis and buzzing is very strong, and my astral self sits up.  I am giggling inside because of what's about to happen and rise up above my sleeping body.   I float to the bathroom, and observe myself in the mirror.  I see myself just as I am in life, and wearing the blue nightgown.  I giggle more, and with a flick of a thought, change it to white.  Floating back into the living room, I rise above all the furniture and go through the patio door into the dark outdoors.”

And she remembered clearly the night it all changed, the night when, the terror brought on by this paralysis became so great she began to shut down.  The buzzing in her ears became deafening and she sank down inside herself, trying to escape from the inability to move, from being a prisoner in her own body.

It was late November, and rain lashed against the window.  Sarah barely heard it as she plunged so deeply inside herself.  Suddenly, all was silent.  Suddenly, she could move, and sat up.  Sighing with relief she got out of bed, and two things made her freeze in amazement – her body was still in bed, tangled up in blankets, and her feet were floating a considerable distance from the floor.  After the first few minutes of fighting the flood of emotions down, Sarah examined her sleeping form more closely, and was relieved to see that she was breathing normally. 

“I’ve heard of this”, she said to herself, “I believe it’s called Astral Travel!”

Taking courage in hand, she willed herself to greater elevation, until she was right by the ceiling.  Flying around was as easy as walking, she discovered, and with greater courage, she explored her new-found abilities.  Eventually, she learned to anticipate these episodes of paralysis, because they became gateways for extraordinary out-of-body journeys.

“For a few minutes I just do some lazy turns and loops, spread my arms wide and "will" myself to feel the cold wind go through me.  I feel ecstatic!!  For some reason, I decide to do something different, and take myself towards the highway.  The cars and trucks go by as I "walk" above them, and wonder if I would cause an accident if I suddenly made myself seen.  It's an entertaining thought, but I decide not to do this, for fear of really causing one.”  

 Sarah put the pen down and refilled her mug.  This dream had a different feel to it.  She reviewed it in her mind, unable to shake the feeling that somehow this marked a new level. 

“Well, enough of this now”, she spoke out loud, looking at the lush plants lining the kitchen window sill.  “It’s time to deal with reality and go to work.”   Quickly, efficiently, she showered, and did her final preparations before leaving for her job at the Arts Centre.  The next edition of the Arts publication was due to go into printing in a couple of days, and there was still much to do by way of editing and layout.

All through the day, her mind kept coming back to her dream.  While at lunch with her close friend and colleague, Adrienne, she even spoke of it.  “There was just something so real in helping someone else while in the Astral!” 

Sarah felt safe talking to Adrienne about these dreams because her friend often related dreams of her own.  They loved exploring the meanings and interpretations.

Adrienne chewed on her sandwich thoughtfully, and finally responded, “It would seem that you have reached a new level here.  I wonder what would happen if you actually met up with this person?”

They giggled at the thought.  Lunch was over, and Adrienne went back to her event planning while Sarah began an afternoon of laying out the last pages of the publication, filled with business card advertisements.

“I stop by an overpass bridge and am suddenly aware that there is another astral someone huddled in the shadows.”

What a liberating and joyous feeling that was!  Flying through solid objects, swimming through the air with amazing ease – gravity didn’t exist in that state, unless Sarah wished to become more solid.  Corkscrews were her favourites, where she would dive to the ground and then holding her arms tightly across her chest, she would spin upwards at dizzying speeds – ah, such freedom!!

Her dream was still incredibly fresh in her mind, and while supper was cooking, she picked up her journal again and continued to record her dream:

“I approach it and introduce myself to what appears to be a very young man.  He's very scared and bewildered, and it doesn't take long for me to realize that he's taken his first astral journey and doesn't know how to deal with it.”

So who was this young man?  Was he really there, or did she just dream him up?  Suddenly it became vitally important for her to know.  After eating her supper, kept intentionally light – just some baked chicken and a green salad – she darkened the living room, lit some candles and incense, and began to meditate.  She took several deep breaths as she settled herself in her chair.  The fragrant sandlewood scent immediately took her into an alternate state.  Again she felt herself floating effortlessly around the overpass, but could not make a connection with the other Astral spirit.  Some 15 minutes later, she sighed and gave up.

“If it’s meant to be revealed, it will be soon enough,” she remarked to herself. 

Work was going well, the publication went to print, and gave Sarah a bit of downtime before beginning on the next issue’s submissions.  Taking advantage of the easier workload, she asked Adrienne if there was anything she could do for her.  Adrienne looked up gratefully, and said, “Oh yes!  I desperately need a cup of coffee before my next appointment!  Would you be a dear and…”

Sarah laughed and waved in understanding as she quickly left to go to the corner coffee shop. 

“He takes my hand, as I offer it to him, and I assure him that this is something wondrous.  Slowly, I draw him out and he gasps as he finds himself able to fly effortlessly.  He wobbles slightly as I let him go, but steadies himself immediately.  I take him to the top of the overpass and together we dive down towards the cars, sometimes even passing through them, in our exuberance.  Taking flight ever higher, we fly to the mountain and play among the trees, marveling at the lighted city below us.”

 “…Sarah?”  Sarah looks up, startled.  “Oh, sorry,” she said to the girl behind the counter.  Smiling ruefully, she continued, “Just got lost in a bit of a daydream.”  She gave her order and suddenly became aware of a male voice behind her.  The man was obviously speaking with a friend, and she attuned herself to that voice

“Time does not exist in the same way when in that state, nor did we need to use words.  All was instantly and completely understood, and so it was when it came time to part company.  We said a leisurely farewell in a fraction of an instant, and…”  The Voice stopped for a moment, then continued, “I’ve never experienced anything like that before!  I wonder if I’ll ever meet this lady in real life?  I would love to thank her for helping me.”

He was saying exactly what she wrote in her journal, word for word!  Although excited almost to choking, Sarah schooled herself to appear calm and smiling, turned to face a pleasant man, some 10 years younger than her.  “Hello, I’m Sarah,” she introduced herself.  “Couldn’t help but overhear about your dream.  If you can spare a few minutes, and wait for me here while I run a quick errand, I would love to talk further with you about this.  You see, I have an extraordinary story to share with you.”

Bottom of Form

The Senses Awake!

I am in the process of taking a course on Shaman journeys and have just completed an assignment.  This lesson dealt with the Plant Nations.  The following is my what I wrote in the "Journal" portion of that assignment:

The Senses Awake

Herbs and spices – what a wonderful array of aromatics exist in the world!  From the sweet tang of cinnamon to the pungent burst of sage, all plants contribute to the joys in our daily lives.

Sadly, I’ve never been very good at keeping herbs alive, but that doesn’t stop me from appreciating the bounty these plants provide.  This of course includes all plant life – vegetables, grains, fruit, legumes – but here I shall touch only on spices and herbs.

So precious were these barks, gums, seeds and roots, that our world was discovered in pursuit them.  Trade routes were established to bring these rare tastes from one region to another.  Today, our store shelves are packed with them all.  That does nothing to lessen the impact of the spices and herbs.

In my own kitchen, I give thanks daily as I sprinkle pepper on food – common black pepper – or as I fold fresh-chopped parsley into mashed potatoes.  Spices are not really necessary.  All food can be cooked without them and still come out okay.  Just okay.  Without the zing of lemon zest, or flavour burst of garlic, it’s just okay. Thus they delight the tongue.

I often rub some dried sage between the palms of my hands, delighting my sense of touch, and am energized by the fragrance.  I blend dried crackling leaves, to the delight of my ears, and then burn them like incense, delighting my nose.

I’ve gazed at the bright scarlet of ground paprika, and the burnt orange of cinnamon, tracing these colours back to the bark and fruit, thus delighting my eye.

A few years ago, I did a special ritual involving herbs.  The criteria was simple – all herbs needed to be easily available at the local grocery store, yet meet the needs of the elemental energies.  Here are the invocations I wrote at that time (July 2, 2008):

Blessed be, oh Creature of Sage

Blessed be, sweet child of the Air

Be you empowered in this rite

To give my wisdom connection to the Divine

And abundance of inspiration

As you are cut, your virtue is released –

So Mote it Be!!

Blessed be, oh Creature of Ginger

Blessed be, aromatic Child of Fire

Be you empowered in this rite

To give my wisdom keen sharpness

And clear understanding.

As you are cut, your virtue is released –

So Mote it Be!!

Blessed be, oh Creature of Mint

Blessed be, refreshing Child of Water

Be you empowered in this rite

To give my wisdom calm rationality

And gentle reasoning.

As you are cut, your virtue is released –

So Mote it Be!!

Blessed be, oh Creature of Parsley

Blessed be, green Child of the Earth

Be you empowered in this rite

To give my wisdom solid grounding

And continuous growth

As you are cut, your virtue is released –

So Mote it Be!!

ANCIENT WISDOM IN THE BONES

Today has been a very relaxing, stress-free day.  I sat here, and worked on my blog, connected with friends, spoke to my father again, even though I just saw him yesterday, and all the while, I was thinking back on that visit.

He is amazing - although I see that he's getting frail, he still insists on living independently, and doing everything for himself.  The thing that inspires and awes me the most is his knowledge of history, especially Russian history and the fact that he has songs and melodies and harmonies coursing through his head which he writes down on music paper every day.  His mind sings, his fingers race across the paper with his pen quickly, so as to get every note, every scale and chord.

And as I am sitting here, thinking about that visit, I am thinking about how those genes are coursing through me.  Creativity, performance, love of history, spirituality, quirkiness, obstinacy and stubbornness, humour, overcoming adversity - yes, all that and more I carry from my father and mother, and my grandparents before them.

Ancient wisdom  - it tells me that I come from those connected to Ancient Greece and the fierce Mongolian nomads of the sweeping steppes, people of Russ and the burly Vikings.  It tells me to follow my heart and let loose that wildness that was the heart of Mongols, search out new adventures as the Vikings did.  It tells me to create, to give birth to new ideas and forms and words, to serve with the creative spirit.

And it tells me that occasionally I need to acknowledge the limitations of this physical body and take a day off here and there, not be afraid to say "No, not today".

I will as of today, pay attention to that ancient wisdom more closely.  I am, after all, a Crone, and my bones are now becoming ancient.

She is woman who sees She is woman who sees She is Crone woman, skull and bone woman Moss and stone woman Crone woman, crone woman Deep Earth cave mother Dark moon blood mother Blood mother, blood mother She is woman who knows She is woman who knows She is hidden woman, she is shadow woman Midnight cloak woman Raven croak woman Owl, bat, moth woman Owl woman, owl woman She is woman who waits She is woman who waits She is death mother, she is birth mother Earth mother, earth mother Earth, birth, death woman She is north woman, winter storm woman Ancient hands woman Wisdom woman Old woman, old woman She is woman who sees She is woman who sees She is night woman She is night woman Woman!

YOU'RE GROUNDED!!

Considering the sleepless nights I've been having these past few days, I thought it would only be appropriate to post something I wrote back in 1988.  This poem was published in And Other Travels, An Anthology of Poems, that same year.

YOU'RE GROUNDED!!

200 paper airplanes 

have landed on my 

     bedroom floor,

200 paper airplanes 

I made in an 

     attempt to soar

Beyond the confines

of the sleepless night

Alas!

Not one of them has carried me

towards the place where light

from dark is only seen

as negatives of photographs!

200 paper airplanes

like gentle ghosts

     so pale

could only

     call

to me with 

     rustling laughs

As

They spun around between the walls

they touched the ceiling and the door,

Then

200 paper airplanes

crash-landed on my

     bedroom floor...

BRIDAL SHOW

In trying not to miss a day of blogging, I'm now stuck as to what to talk about.

Hmmm, let's see - I could write about the wonderful Bridal show I attended today.  I thoroughly enjoyed it! I trudged from one display booth to another, talked to so many people and connected with a number of them, in hopes of expanding my presence as wedding officiant.

The fashion show was fantastic - I always enjoy runway stuff.  The first set was particularly interesting, where the models became living mannequins, striking dramatic poses.  I also thoroughly enjoyed the violinist who performed during the show.  Not only was he a great musician, his outfit was fantastic too - white, long jacket with discreet beading.  Loved it!!

I figure I spent about 4 hours on my feet, wandering around, and then walked a good way home.  My feet ached, the bag of goodies got very heavy (amazing how much just sheets of paper could weight - lol), and I was dying for some tea by the time I finally got home.  Next week,  I'll be going through all the brochures, flyers and business cards, checking out all the websites

Maybe that's exactly what I needed to tire me out enough to sleep tonight.  The January Full Moon is just having way too much fun with the energies this month - but that's another story... 

COMPLETION AND BEGINNING

Ah, I see one strand of silver tinsel still hanging up.  Other than that, all the Yule/Christmas tree and decorations have been taken down and packed away for another year.  Strange how large and empty this place seems without all the bright ornamentation!

So it's over for another year - the hype, the stress, the need to outdo each other in gift-giving.  There are things that I don't really like about this time of the year, and all of it has to do with the commercials and reports of how well the retail business fared.  In all other respects I love it.  I love the lights, the holly and pine boughs, I love the trees decked out with stars and shining balls.  I the well-wishing - which in itself creates, at least for a short time, a feeling of peace on Earth, goodwill towards all.  I love the food, gathering  of friends and family, and the way each culture seems to have a festival of lights and blessings during the coldest and darkest time of the year.

And now it's over.  All trappings have been stripped, leaving blank spaces and empty walls.  It's time to start thinking of the next Sabbat, Imbolc, and watch the Wheel of the Year turn again.  All is made clean for the new energies to start stirring as the altars are reset to welcome the Maiden Goddess.

From the beginning, it has been my practice to honour Brid (Brigid) during this time, and indeed, I shall have an altar for her.  But for some reason, I am drawn to set up an altar for Quan Yin, to open a gateway for a flow of compassion, understanding and health.  Already it's stirring in me, this inspiration for a ritual, and I shall slowly begin to put it into effect this week.

May She, the Lady of Compassion, bless you abundantly!