tinhuviel | Entries tagged with witchcraft

In commemoration of swift-approaching Imbolc.

BRIGHID

Passing quietly through the Forest of Ages
In Her poorly-patched cloak, held together by threads,
She is walking the pathways of her ancient people,
Where all the cloakmakers are fearful to tread.

And She whispers Her poetry in the ears of the Songchild
Teaches of wood to the Child of the Tree
She bestows healing secrets to the Herbchild and Rootchild
And guards for the Holychild, Her own mystery.

The cloakmakers cover her with their own shadow
But their raiment of ignorance does not hide the need
Of her people who see her not as cloakéd Saint Bridget,
But the silver-clad triple divinity, Brighid.

~24 June, 1992

Mood: loved
Where? Home
Music: Terry Bozzio - Book of Hours

As I spend my last few hours in San Diego, I'm pondering more deeply the circumstances that have brought me to this point of return to the South, and the possible reasons for this change in my life.

Honestly, I cannot bring myself to believe that my reclamation of my faith happened because I was destined to go back to South Carolina, and North Carolina in short order. That area, barring most of Texas, is the most dangerous in America in recent history to be a Witch.

I have never been one to back away from a challenge or a frightening situation. It doesn't mean that I'm brave in any way; rather, I guess I'm determined beyond the point of self-preservation. I was never in the broom closet, and I never intend to be. But being an Out Witch brings with it the risk of discrimination, abuse (primarily verbal...for now), and even harm, in this bleak period in our history.

But that's exactly why I feel going back is my destiny. I have always known that I was ready to pay any price for my freedom as a woman and a child of the Goddess. Not just that, but I am willing to forfeit myself in order to ensure the freedom of my sisters and brothers who reside outside the circle of xtian inclusion. I am going back to try to prevent the American Taliban from eroding American laws to the point where they can wreak havoc on the lives of over 50% of American citizens.

When I learned about the Burning Times, and first heard the slogan "Never Again The Burning," it moved me like nothing else before. To suffer loss, torture, and an often excruciating death simply for being a certain gender, worshipping a different way, or holding unpopular opinions is unspeakably horrific and, to be living in an era where this could very easily happen at any time, both frightens and enflames me.

I have already signed up with some local Meet Up groups involved in the resistance, and I plan on expanding my activities once I am permanently settled somewhere. Considering my new location, despite it probably being in Asheville, I realise that I am risking my life by fighting for what I believe, but I have never felt more alive in once again embracing my Inner Activist.

Working for change, or at least the maintenance of our current freedoms, is worthy and valid wherever you do it, but doing so in an area where seeing what the threat to our way of life at work firsthand brings an urgency and validity to that work. The gravity and urgency of our plight isn't as apparent in places like San Diego, where it is of little consequence who or what you are, or how you identify yourself in this world. Even though a lot of people in San Diego say the city is conservative, compared to other areas of California, to me it's a Hippie paradise! That alone is the reason why I am eager to be publicly active back East. It should be of no consequence to anyone else how you live your life, and it is for that ideal that I will be struggling.

I cannot do that in a liberal location. For me, I need to be on the front lines, and that means working on the buckle of the Bible Belt, whether it be with others like myself, or solitarily. I believe this is why I came back to the Craft right before I learned I'd be moving. Everything has fallen into place in accordance with this path. When I first started out in Wicca, I was always socially/politically motivated, besides being spiritually moved to the ways of the Goddess. The only thing that has changed from those early days, is that I am even more resolute than before, and I have almost a quarter of a century of experience under my belt.

I'm excited for what lies ahead, even if it means distress, discomfort, or even death. My life is in service to the Goddess in all Her forms, primarily Mother Earth, who needs Her children to come to Her defence more so than ever before. I'm ready to take up arms, be it figurative or literal, to fight the growing menace and, if it is at all within my power, I will work tirelessly to guarantee that, never again, shall there be another burning.

It should be of note, too, that I found my silver Triskele pendant, still on its chain. I haven't worn it in about three years, and it's been missing since last year. After scrubbing it and cleansing it, I placed it back around my neck. If the timing of this event isn't symbolic, I have no clue what I'm talking about, and I never will.

Mood: determined
Where? the house
Music: Bonnie Tyler - Total Eclipse of the Heart
Crossposts: http://tinhuviel.livejournal.com/2759170.html

She changes everything She touches, and everything She touches, changes.

This afternoon and evening, I am burning an anointed blue candle to try to bring myself a little bit of peace of mind, as much as can be mustered. The dance of the flame, along with the muskiness of my incense, allows me to still my mind, if only for a period of time.

Friday, it will have been two weeks since Janice got a lawyer to do a title check on the Mother Unit and me. He told Janice that it would be about two weeks to get her an answer. I did my own title search under my name, the address of the property in question, and of the Unit's name. The only thing that is coming up is from when I transferred the house to the Mother Unit right before I moved out here in 2013. So, that said, I'm trying to do something that is nearly impossible for me to do, and I am doing it to challenge my faith. Why? Especially at this unspeakably crucial life change.

Here's the thing: I am Mulder and Scully, all wrapped into one psychopathic fruit loop. I want to believe, but I can never quite surrender completely to what some might call faith. I worked diligently, leading up to the Full Moon, to draw upon ideas on how not to end up homeless, on how to swallow my pride and ask for help, if worse came to worse, and to light a little flame in my corner of existence to let the universe I'm here and I need help to get somewhere else, safely, with Smidgen and Toby.

But, I'm repeating myself, I know. It's just that it's a tad terrifying to think of the alternatives if I can't get us back home...ANYWAY, what I'm getting at is, there should be no reason any liens against the house would exist, and it clearly states the deed belongs to the Mother Unit, so I am putting my money where my mouth is, and I am not setting up a GoFundMe until I know for certain whether or not I need it. I'm being mindful of my roaming thoughts, of which I have too many, and I am redirecting the thoughts from "what if...________?" to "I am grateful for this moment's peace, and the many moments of happiness I know lie before."

Let me be clear here; I'm not talking about testing the gods, or trying to bribe anything in the other realms. It's about testing myself. It's about finally admitting to myself that being a combination defeatist/impatient tackhead is a horrible thing to be, for my own wellbeing, and that I am the only one who can change this panicky chaos. So I am almost constantly, even in the background when I'm multi-tasking, chanting Reclaiming's indomitable "Kore" Chant, which states, in part, "She changes everything she touches, and everything She touches changes." When I'm at home, and not repeatedly whispering the chant in my mind, I'm singing the Native American healing lullaby, "Nah Bvey Hi-Ay" to myself. When I'm at program, in between in group session, I walk the labyrinth and either chant "Kore" or sing "Nah Bvey Hi-Ay."

In this time of change, "Kore" is the one statement about the Goddess I have ever heard, and I've treasured it for such a long time, from the beginning of my Pagan journey way back in 1988 until present time, I even decided to have it embossed on an altar I'm getting. Before my computer died and demanded replacement, and then I was told that I'm going to have to move, I took some extra money I had in March and commissioned an oak altar I had always wanted. One of the options of the creation of the piece was to have phrases or names in the font of your choice (of what they have available), inscribed into the wood. It can take five weeks or longer for it to be ready to ship, so I don't even know right now what address to give them in place of the San Diego one I provided! That is, if I have an address at all! This time in my life is the most momentous one I've experienced, even more so than the 2013 move.

The moment I returned to Her, radical changes began to happen, and continue to. And it's to this I cling right now, for change indicates that all things and situations are transformable. But I have to have faith in this, not just know it. If I can't, I am lost, no matter where I end up living, or not.

"We are changers; everything we touch can change."

Mood: anxious
Where? the house
Music: Breaking Bad on Netflix
Crossposts: http://tinhuviel.livejournal.com/2753691.html

Around 2 AM this morning, I was watching and looking for more of Marina Abramović's performance art, when I happened to come across a picture of her bottle-feeding a baby tiger. My mind was instantly transported to the Wiccan Charge of the Goddess. For those who may not know what the Charge of the Goddess is, it is a poem written by Doreen Valiente, for use in Esbats and Sabbats, and most usually spoken by the High Priestess presiding over the ritual after having drawing down the Moon. The version I'm using here is Starhawk's adaptation of the Charge, because her version was the first I ever read.

Listen to the words of the Great Mother, Who of old was called Artemis, Astarte, Dione, Melusine, Aphrodite, Cerridwen, Diana, Arionrhod, Brigid, and by many other names:

Whenever you have need of anything, once a month, and better it be when the moon is full, you shall assemble in some secret place and adore the spirit of Me Who is Queen of all the Wise.

You shall be free from slavery, and as a sign that you be free you shall be naked in your rites.

Sing, feast, dance, make music and love, all in My Presence, for Mine is the ecstasy of the spirit and Mine also is joy on earth.

For My law is love is unto all beings. Mine is the secret that opens the door of youth, and Mine is the cup of wine of life that is the cauldron of Cerridwen, that is the holy grail of immortality.

I give the knowledge of the spirit eternal, and beyond death I give peace and freedom and reunion with those that have gone before.

Nor do I demand aught of sacrifice, for behold, I am the Mother of all things and My love is poured out upon the earth.

Hear the words of the Star Goddess, the dust of Whose feet are the hosts of Heaven, whose body encircles the universe:

I Who am the beauty of the green earth and the white moon among the stars and the mysteries of the waters,

I call upon your soul to arise and come unto me.

For I am the soul of nature that gives life to the universe.

From Me all things proceed and unto Me they must return.

Let My worship be in the heart that rejoices, for behold, all acts of love and pleasure are My rituals.

Let there be beauty and strength, power and compassion, honor and humility, mirth and reverence within you.

And you who seek to know Me, know that the seeking and yearning will avail you not, unless you know the Mystery: for if that which you seek, you find not within yourself, you will never find it without.

For behold, I have been with you from the beginning, and I am That which is attained at the end of desire.

I'm not sure why I've latched on to Ms. Abramović, connecting her with the Divine Feminine, but I can say this is the closest I've felt to the Great Goddess since 2011. It could just be that I resonate with the archetype Marina's carriage emanates.

I'm nowhere near acknowledging the existence of any sort to any deity, but I have to admit to myself that I'm not an atheist. By the same token, the revelations and theories that seem to have exploded in the science communities over the past few years give rise to a kind of wonderment of existence, of being a part of living, sentient organism. It is believed that information is never lost. It can be transformed into something we can't see, but it is not gone. In some form, everything is still cradled within the cosmos.

Combined with that theory, the line in the Charge, From Me all things proceed and unto Me they must return, has given me a level of comfort I thought I would never feel again. Not since 2011. How long will this last? I do not know. Could it magnify and allow me to return to the Craft? I do not know. Is it simply a fleeting subconscious attempt to cling to the memories of a time when I felt much more in control of my life than I am now? Perhaps. Still, I do not know. Will I ever know?

I do not know.

Spirituality, however, is not something you know. At least it shouldn't be. Unwavering certainty is the pathway to religious extremism, which is about as far from spirituality as a person can get, in my opinion. A person has to believe enough to engage in spiritual practice of any sort, and I know deep in my bones that I am not there yet, and may never again be. Some may suggest I cast or find a Circle and see where it takes me, but I can't do that. I always took my responsibilities as a High Priestess very seriously and I feel being involved in a ritual of any sort would be hypocrital of me. I tried to explain this - unsuccessfully - to the Mother Unit and Matt, when they tried to get me to attend a full moon drum circle. Since rhythm and song were intrinsic in my own rituals and the ones I led in Hecate Triskele, and this drum circle is held on every Esbat, my conscience won't allow me to get involved. I would feel like a phony and a liar to myself and everyone with whom I've practiced since embracing Witchcraft, and everything I'd ever believed or done within that context would be worthless, devoid of any sincerity. That's something I cannot and will not do.

That said, I think it would be wise of me to avoid Marina Abramović for a while.

Edit: The background image I used for the Marina Charge is an artist rendering of what scientists believe the universe looks like.

Mood: contemplative
Where? the house
Music: Shriekback - This Big Hush

About an hour ago, Matt reminded me of the drum circle that's happening tonight. A short while after that, the Mother Unit also reminded me, asking if I was going with them.

I am not.

When it was mentioned at the Rainbow drumming circle on Sunday, I didn't get the chance to tell the Unit and Matt that I wouldn't participate. Later, I forgot to bring it up. They just assumed I'd be up for any drum circle, and that's totally understandable. I don't think they understood why I won't be going with them, though, despite my best efforts to explain.

Honestly, I didn't try very hard to explain my reason to Matt, because his understanding others - at least me, at any rate - is as selective as his hearing and attention span, and it would have led to nothing more but another avoidable conflict. But I did try to clarify my position to the Unit.

If there is something I despise more than anything else in the world, I would have to say it is hypocrisy, religious hypocrisy to be exact.

Since 2011, I have had issues with my spirituality that, today, sees me on the threshold of unapologetic atheism. I have not participated in Esbats or Sabbats, nor will I until I can say without reservation that I still believe. This is a full moon drum circle. Engaging in connecting with Earth's heartbeat by creating rhythms beneath a full moon is too close to participating in ritual for my comfort.

The Unit's argument to mine was that she was not Pagan, nor is Matt, and they're still attending. In fact, she said, there were probably few, if any, Witches present, that it was more about the drumming than anything. And she's right. I can't deny she doesn't have a point. She also fails to understand that, because I'm an initiate, because I take spirituality extremely seriously, I don't feel comfortable going to an event that even hints at ritual. I would feel like a hypocrite, and that's an untenable position in which to find oneself.

I would love to go drumming tonight. Since this one is on the beach, I would particularly love going, as I have been wanting to return to the ocean for quite a few months now. (I think I may be past the used condom incident to the point I could brave the water again.) Immersing into the Pacific beneath a full moon as the attendees drum out our collective heartbeat sounds wonderful to me right now. In all good conscience, however, I can't do it. Even though the Unit and Matt don't see a problem with my participation, neither of them have undergone an initiation into a spiritual path. They don't see the conflict because, for them, there is none. And that's okay. That's the way it's supposed to be.

In completely unrelated news, my back has been about to kill me today. As I went up the stairs earlier, I felt like the G-force was tripled. It then occurred to me that the excess skin I could never get removed may be a major factor in keeping my back in a fix. So I decided to see what my health insurance might cover, given it changed when I moved to California. I couldn't find anything on Aetna's secure members' page, but that didn't stop me. I wrote Aetna. About thirty minutes later, I got this back:

Your provider will need to request precertification for the procedure.
If approved you may be responsible $264 out patient procedure co-payment.

I'm flabbergasted by this. It just doesn't even seem real to me, that this procedure, considered strictly cosmetic by all insurers in South Carolina, would cost me less than $300, if I got approval. Based on the experience I've so far had with the medical maze in California, I'm pretty confident I'd get approval, especially if it means the procedure would help with my back, knees, and my skin in general.

I go see my PCP next week, and will definitely be broaching the subject to her at that time. I will also be mentioning it to the pain doctor later on this month, considering he's been treating my pain issues in regard to my spine, knees, and fibro. So, we'll see.

I'm probably screwing myself over royally for feeling this way, but I'm actually kind of hopeful about the prospects of this. Anyone who reads this needs to keep your digits crossed for me, 'cos this would be monumental.

Mood: hopeful
Where? the house
Music: Electric Light Orchestra - One Summer Dream

I just lit a stick of incense I bought last weekend. I don't know what it is, sadly. The incense sticks were bought individually, and were all mixed together in the bag.

This particular scent, though, is one I remember from my days of going to Rainbows & Moonbeams, and sitting in the back room talking about the Goddess and Klingons. Not at the same time. They were the two main subjects that came up with Lady Layla and Patrick.

The scent was also very prevalent during some of the rituals at the Temple Hecate Triskele. I remember it, too, the Bealtainne I met the Harpist.

All these memories spread out over the course of several years, but have been encapsulated within a simple scent triggered in my olfactory nerve. It's amazing how the body can harbour the path to memories and, in a sense, help a person travel in time to happier days, or even tragic moments.

And sometimes, those interludes of happiness can feel tragic for having passed into the realm of bygone days that can never completely be recaptured. And all you're left with is a scent whose name eludes you, and a feeling of loss.

Mood: sad
Where? Home
Music: Month of Sand - Shriekback

Since the loss of my Triskele and pentagram pendants in the E/R in December of last year, I'm once again wearing a piece of magickal jewelry. Here's what it looks like.

The main pendant is black tourmaline, with the seven chakra stones inlaid up the front.

Black tourmaline is a grounding stone, and it can purify as well as protect the wearer from negative energy. It is also very healing, which is certainly one thing I always use.

The chakras, from the root up, are garnet, orange calcite, citrine, jade, angelite, sodalite, and amethyst ~ to the best of my knowledge.

We'll see if this magick feather will aid Ms. Dumbo to proceed with hitch-hiking down the Beauty Way once again.

Mood: recumbent
Where? home
Music: Doin' It Right (feat. Panda Bear)-Daft Punk-Random Access Memories

So...with the passing of Aunt Tudi, I am alone. I don't hardly remember September except some of the highlights of the train ride and bonding with the Mother Unit like never before. She even let me in her and Matt's home to get to know Matt better and see her flock of birds. I had a lovely time with herd, but funds went low and I had to come back to the house early and not even go to Todd in Vancouver, Washington.

The rest of September was spent in solitude, lying on the love seat with the animals on me, watching 'Law & Order,' and weeping. The house went to hell and I vomited everything I tried to eat or drink. From July to now, I have lost 69 pounds. I've declared it the Stress and Grief diet and am thinking about marketing it.

October was spent pretty much the same way. I do remember being in the hospital from a break down at some time. Then another from weakness. I'm low on potassium and am seriously anaemic. Still, I'm feeling unsure of my legs, as I've fallen so many times. At one time, I fell when using a walker, on my way to the bedroom, thinking I heard Aunt Tudi. I ended up giving myself a terrible black eye from that fall. Tuesday, I fell five times, skinning my shin on the rocks of Craggy Garden when I went to speak to the spirits of Aunt Tudi and Granny, saying things I wasn't comfortable saying in front of others. I got there and back, though, so I'm more confident about driving home.

Yesterday, I attended a fire party thrown by Davis and Kathleen. The harpist did not come as I had hoped, so that I could give that closure as well. Ten years of resentment and loss is enough. But it is my first step in crawling out of my grievous Hobbit hole.

I'm still considering finding homes for all the animals. Riley is already gone to a very loving home whose people had just lost a wire-haired dachshund. I miss him, but it's already easier with just two dogs. All the animals are missing Aunt Tudi still and they miss me, because I've spent so much time at Uncle Michael's and Aunt Janice's.

But I'm working on moving back in my house and, since the family now has no doubt about my spiritual path, I'm going to Witch my home up. I couldn't take any more Christian postulations as I went through my grieving process. I told them that Aunt Tudi had come to understand the Witch's path, had been Croned, and was not thoroughly Christian, especially an xtian. Once I get finances sorted, I'm purchasing one thing a month from Azure Green. I'm also taking my gear and supplies out of the closet and drawers. Now that I am alone, I'm considering easing back into the Witches' community, if not here, in Asheville. Everyone will know my ways and, if they don't like it, they can remove themselves from my life, or pray for me, or do whatever they can do.

There are crosses etched into the red rock where we scattered both Granny's and Aunt Tudi's ashes. I took the metal tool and drew a humble pentagram and triskele there as well. More will be done. The etchings will be stronger and candles will be lit.

I am alone now, but I am hoping I can reestablish myself with what friends and family I have, and to learn what life without Aunt Tudi will be like. For now I'm off to do laundry and vacuum the floor. I have a new appreciation of a domestic life.

Mood: calm
Where? home
Music: Gordon Ramsay cursing his heart out

For some reason, I have been deeply blessed by being invited to become a part of Mother Grove Goddess Temple in Asheville, NC. I'm sure it's the doing of Asheville's Village Witch. I wrote them back and said:

I would be honoured and blessed to attend this Circle. It may be a while before I can attend, though, as I am unable to afford to travel, even as close as Asheville. Once this has changed, however, please be assured that I will be an active participant, being a Witch and native of Asheville, NC, which I hold very dear to my heart.

As soon as my fundage arrives, I'm once more becoming an active member of the Pagan community, this time in a place I call home, other than the UK. I'm sure Aunt Tudi will also become a part of it as well, especially since she was Croned quite a few years back.

Actually, I'm in tears for having been so honoured. To be wrapped once more in the loving arms of the Goddess, this time in the sacred mountains of Asheville, North Carolina is about more than I can bear.

Mood: blessed
Where? home
Music: Adam Ant - Strip

We all wish we were something more than what we really are. Because of that, the Harry Potter series rings a chime of truth and wishful thinking on our part. For my part, I wish I were a part of that world, no matter the dangers of bad wizards and deadly Dementors. When I became a Witch in my very early 20s, I had this idea that everything would change for me. The only thing that really changed was my world view. My faith in Gaia multiplied a thousandfold and I became one of those rare Witches who believed contrary to the normal Witch that we humans could save the world.

We humans might be able to make out beds a little better, but we're far from powerful enough to change a world as massive and as powerful as Mother Earth. Once she's had enough of us, she'll shake us off like a dog shakes excess water off it's fur after a long swim.

When I taught dedicants and they were so dependent upon the tools of the Craft, I would tell them the story of Dumbo. Magick dwells within each of us and no amount of magick feathers is going to change that. The tools are there to put you in a frame of mind to conjure up that personal power that was always there. Just like Harry made the glass of the snake exhibit disappear. He did so without a wand, without a familiar, and without any manner of incantation. It was Harry alone.

I don't practice magick anymore. I'm too jaded and my knowledge of what it's really about negates my ability to suspend my disbelief. That's why I call myself an agnostic Witch. I will always consider myself a Witch, but I'm continuing to search for my place in that Old Religion. I'd prefer to live in Harry Potter's world instead of this Muggle-ridden dump of human waste, but a person has to deal with what's handed her, I guess.

Until, I'll read the books and watch the movies...and wish.

Mood: cynical
Where? home
Music: Zoe - The Lion Roars

I didn't do too swell with my word count, but after writing almost 6000 words yesterday, I guess I slack day is to be expected and possibly even deserved. My word count for today is 1780 and I think the ebb and flow of the language is pretty nifty. Take this, for example, the beginning passage of chapter 5.

CHAPTER 5

REMEMBRANCE

Those dark eyes conceal their life within them. Buried secrets – the flesh won’t keep. ~ Shriekback “Evaporation”

She opened her eyes, all silver-blue and awash in alien resplendence. Kelat, the queen of the Great Hive, looked up at the waxing moon and reflected its lunar loveliness to grace the night sky and the world that revolved within it.

“Gentle Kessilon, ye in the dust of whose feet are the hosts of heaven, whose body encircles this Universe and all the verses that have been and are yet to be sung, I call upon thee to witness this, my offering of honour to thee.”

Kelat extended her ivory arms and, out of a pitcher, poured crystal clear water into a marble basin. The light of the moon was captured by the water, making its reflection shimmer and undulate with the movement of the liquid.

All was silent as Kelat poured wine upon the ground, her lips moving in silent reverence to her patron Goddess, She Who Wrought the Stars of Heaven.

It had been at least a century, maybe longer, since Kelat had visited the Canopy Ruins, one of the last untouched natural circles of Tarmian worship. The only other one she could think existed that was still diligently tended and pristinely kept was Avebury. Avebury was well-known by the Goddess peoples of the world, but no one save Dmitri knew about the Canopy Ruins. It was kept hidden by layered geasa to where only Kelat could find it and enter into that hallowed existence. Even though Dmitri knew about the Canopy Ruins and had, in fact, been transformed into a Vampire there, he could not find it or enter therein without Kelat guiding him.

And so she was here, acting out the ways of worship so old as to make the ancient look young, yet using the modern language of the spiritual children of the Tarmian Ways.

Mood: satisfied
Where? home
Music: Massive Attack - Prayer For England

I'm what-ifing myself to death. What if the book is published and Barry actually reads it? Is he gonna hate me for Cadmus' numerous crimes against humanity and Vampire-kind? Carl is interested in the book, too. Is he gonna freak out over Cadmus? Should I tell him that Cadmus' name is his name bastardised? Would he mind if he knew? What if the book is published and nobody buys it? Or they buy it and hate it? What if people actually like it and start clamouring for The Blood Crown, which I haven't finished yet? What if I start getting pushed to finish it? Deadlines make me crazy, even though I do well writing under pressure. Take NaNoWriMo for instance. Still though, the thought of a bunch of people poking at me makes me extremely uneasy.

ANY...way. Fibro is kicking my ass right now. I'm in desperate need of a massage, but I'm to sensitive to be touched. It hurts to be touched just when I need to be touched. If I didn't have the Lyrica, I'd probably crawl off and die. On top of that, I think my left knee is getting water on it. I have no idea what I'm going to do if that's the case. If I have to, I'll go back to Dr. Keith since he's paid off, but I really don't want to because his financial person is a bitch who reamed me out about the money I owed in front of all the waiting patients. Her exact words were "You don't take your car to a mechanic without paying for it." Gee, I didn't realise Dr. Keith was also an auto mechanic. ...bitch.

I'm thinking of selling all my books on Witchcraft, except for <i>The Witches Bible</i> and a couple of others as resource information for any future rituals I attend or officiate. I never look at most of these books and I think it's time to let them go to someone who needs them. I could use the money too.

That "World's Greatest Spokesperson in the World" is irritating as all Sith Hell. I want to take that blue phone of his and shove it up his chocolate wizway. I've had Nationwide Insurance since the early 80s. I don't need some bozo with a blue phone to tell me how good they are. Nationwide needs to come to grips that their advertising ploy will never measure up to Geico commercials and just shut up and sell insurance. Idiots...

I sound like I'm in a bad mood. I'm always in a bad mood. My counselor tells me I need to essentially re-program myself to think good thoughts and my depression will ease up. Is she right? I don't know. I'm trying that half-smile technique, but I feel like I'm grimacing when I do it. I need to think positive thoughts, she said. I always come up on the negative side, which is why I feel so bad. Again, is she right? I don't know. I'm afraid that she's trying to kill my Inner Sith. Rosa told me that I was the most difficult case she's had in six years because I'm so smart. In so many words, she suggested I try to dumb myself down because the therapy will be more helpful. Apparently ignorance is bliss. Who'da thunk?

Fringe comes on in 10 minutes. That makes me happy.

Then sleep. Blessed sleep.

Mood: nervous
Where? home
Music: Barry Andrews - This Big Hush

Anne Strieber is looking for Wiccans and Pagans in Southern California to be a part of a documentary about the Pagan movement in America. If you're located there, you should go visit the blurb at Unknowncountry. Here 'tis!

Even though I'm obviously not in Southern California, I wrote her anyway because I believe the documentary may benefit from including the American Paganry of the Bible Belt. Here's what I wrote:

Dear Anne,

I read at Unknowncountry that you're looking for Pagans and Wiccans (yeah, there's a difference) in the Southern California area. Sadly, I am not in Southern California; however, I am located in an area that you may want to consider including in your documentary. I live in the Upstate of South Carolina which is pretty much the buckle of the Bible Belt (my High Elder always said it wasn't the Bible Belt, but the Girdle of the Goddess). I have been out of the Broom Closet since the early 90s and you can't imagine the experiences I've had being a Wiccan priestess in a Right Wing Fundamentalist stronghold. They've been both surprisingly positive and understandably negative, but all of them have been intense. Should you want to or are able to expand your documentary to include those of us "behind enemy lines" as 't'were, I'd be happy to participate in your program. I've long been an admirer of both you and your husband and a keen student of All Things Gray since reading Mr. Strieber's Communion in 1987. It would be an honour to offer any insight I can on the subject of American Paganism and the Wiccan Priesthood.

Peace and Bright Blessings,
Tracy A. Evans (Lady Tinhuviel Artanis)

I doubt I'll get a reply and I strongly doubt I'll be invited to part of the program, but at least I put my best foot forward and I got to express a tiny bit of my appreciation for the Striebers, so I feel good about the letter. We'll see where it takes us, if it takes us anywhere.

Mood: thoughtful
Where? home
Music: David Bowie - Fashion and an explosive thunderstorm outside (KABOOM!)

I still have to work. I still have to get dressed and crawl out of bed. I'm still a wage slave, even though I love slave-wagin' for Doc because he seriously rocks and all the animals I get to work with are a true delight. But I still have to go out on a rainy day when I just want to go to bed.

And I don't understand about Good Friday. Shouldn't it be Good Thursday? Jesus supposedly died and was resurrected three days later, on what is currently called Easter Sunday. The numbers don't add up. Friday he died. Then comes Saturday. Then Sunday, voila! It's Holy Ghost time! That's only two days. One and a half, depending on the times of the incidences. It doesn't bloody add up and, nossir, I don't like it! Good Thursday would make the whole thing more plausible. And then the Church named the celebration of the resurrection of the Messiah Easter which, etymologically, is derived from the name of Teutonic fertility Goddess Eostre.

W?
T?
F?

Of all the Christian horribledays, it's Easter that pisses me off the most. It's the Christian version of the Pagan Bealtainne, which has also lost the majority of its true meaning amongst {gacome nothing but an excuse for horny humans to romp about outside nekkid and having anonymous sex with freaks of all kinds.

I say, kill 'em all, and let whatever deity who isn't busy doing something else sort out the herd of idiots and give them some mighty mighty karma, so much so that they have to let it all hang out, a la the Brick House.

Mood: bitchy
Where? home
Music: Jerry Springer on the telly (more freaks on parade)

to protect you from those who practice ritual magick, then aren't you cancelling out your own idiot self?

Lord, deliver Sarah from the Witches. And Lady, deliver us Witches from Sarah!

Does this tackhead in a dress not know there's no difference between her Pentecostal dabblings and a good old fashioned esbat, just the names are changed around to suit the tight-asses? I swear to the Mighties who watch us with dismay, 2012 cannot get here soon enough. Can.Not.

Mood: predatory
Where? home
Music: Wilbert Harrison - Kansas City

While Aunt Tudi was watching the latest on Hurricane Gustav, I came across an old journal from my Dedicant days in 1992. The first page, written in late October of 1992, is entitled "The Tornado and the Hurricane Speak." I decided to transcribe it here in hopes that it might bring a shred of comfort to anyone in the path of the oncoming storm who might chance upon this entry. My thoughts are with everyone in New Orleans. Despite my affinity for Crone weather, I'm not at all happy that NOLA might be getting it again. That area has had enough horror and heartache to last a lifetime. Again, hopefully this might bring a little peace in the coming days of worry.

THE TORNADO AND THE HURRICANE SPEAK

We are the hand of the Dark Goddess, She who creates through destruction. The banishment of the Circle is performed by going widdershins, and so it is that we travel widdershins in order to banish the old, or that which is deemed ready to pass from this place. It is we who roar in welcome of new landscapes, new vegetation, new life. We do not destroy for destruction's sake. Our fury blows for the potential of Creation that follows in the footsteps of the Crone as surely as Spring chases Winter.

Mood: concerned
Where? home
Music: Eric Johnson - Cliffs Of Dover

Occasionally, some friends of mine here and I would bemoan our woes about being so far apart from each other and how that distance prevented our doing ritual together. We're all over 30 and have been practicing Witches for many years. That said, I decided to create a community for 30+ Witches who've needed to connect to like-minded Witches. If you're interested in casting virtual circles and discussing Witch-y issues, I invite you to join

old_crones.

Mood: sick
Where? home
Music: news news and more news

She was a handmaiden to the Goddess Inanna, whom is quite prevalent in my life at the moment, preparing myself to walk into the Underworld and strip myself of everything that bears me down. It is Lilith's fair hand that I need to help me struggle through it. She has always been an important Goddess to me, being the patron of Other Women and Angry Women and Independent Women. The Patriarchy just didn't know what they were doing when they demonised the gentle bird Goddess who dwelt in trees and sang to the stars.

falkenna gave me a lapel pin some time back that was an image of the the Goddess Lilith, representing her bird feet, her wings, her holding of the staff of eternity, and her permission to the wise serpent to entwine around her body. The lion and owl are not present in the image, but I like to think they're there nonetheless.

As I don't wear lapel pins and such, I was was at a loss of what to do with Lilith....until yesterday. I took a piece of wood and pierced Lilith into the heart of it. I then drew the sea and shore upon which she cavorted with Yahweh's demons until Sanoi, Sansenoi, and Samangelof were sent to bully her into submission, which she refused. I extended her crown to be an aura (which all Goddesses have auras to me, thanks to Xanadu into the night in which she now dwells and surrounded her with the stars so beloved of her when she served as Inanna's handmaiden.

This, now, shall be my Goddess Image upon my altar.

Happy birthday to everyone I'm missing. My deepest apologies.

Mood: blessed
Where? library
Music: yapping

Here I am at the 'libarry,' as the local yokels dare to call it. We're only allowed an hour at a time on the computer, so I zipped through my hour trying to catch up on email, then left to get cat food. After getting cat food, I apparently allowed my wallet to fall out of my purse at Bi-Lo. Only when I went to get out my library card to log on for another hour on the computer did I realise my card and the wallet in which it resides were both gone. So I hauled ass back to Bi-Lo where the folks at the front counter had my goods. Well...most of them. The $80 I had was gone, but everything else as intact. Cursing like a sailor under my breath, I thanked the Bi-Lo people and drove back to the library. And here I am ~ broke, surly, and going through Internet withdrawals bad. I hate being timed on my computer use and I despise the fact that I was stupid enough to lose my wallet. Gyah! And it hasn't even been a week that my computer has been gone. I'll be dead by the time the two to three weeks the Geek Squad may need to take to heal my computer has passed by. Dead, I tell you, dead!

I've been writing the old-fashioned way: with a pen applied to paper. My handwriting is atrocious. I figured I'd better transcribe what I have so far before I lose the ability to read what I've written. Right now, concentration on the scribblings and memory will get me through but, the longer I wait, the less of a chance I'll have to transcribing the mess. This bit was inspired by my recent reconnection with the Craft combined with the Tarmian Ways and rituals. Actually, I want to include a good amount of Tarmian tradition and way of life in this sequel. The Chalice wouldn't exist had it not been for the firm platform of dozens of notebooks of Deaghydhe/Tarmian language, ritual practice, myths and legends, and character developments on which it rests. I want Kelat's pre-Vampire days to be more prevalent in The Blood Crown. Her memories, particularly the ones she passes on to Cadmus that will help him retrieve the Blood Crown, will bring to life the ancient alien Elfin creatures who inherited the Earth millions of years before Humanity stirred in the dreams of the Earth Mother. Kelat is, after all, the Mother of Memory. I should focus more readily on that and let her live up to her Tarmian title.

Okay, so here it is.

( Kelat'menan ~ the Mother of Memory )

That's what I have so far. And I have three minutes left online. Crapola. Maybe I can get back on Saturday.

Hope all is well with you people, those I call My Friends. ::blows a Sithly kiss::

Oh, and HAPPY ALBAN EILER!!

Mood: discontent
Where? library

Dumbo's magic feather needs to be pulled out, dusted off, and used with enthusiasm because the occasional reminder of what stirs within is more than a little necessary. You can always fly without it but, sometimes, holding that feather brings it all back in a way nothing else can.

Mood: thoughtful
Where? home
Music: Electric Light Orchestra - Sweet Talkin' Woman

I can't listen to "Somewhere over the Rainbow" by Israel Ka'ano'i Kamakawiwo'ole anymore because it's been marked by memories of the Father Unit. Hearing it just makes me incredibly woeful. Daddy passed in 2006 and the wound seems more raw now than it did when he left us. Aunt Tudi seems to feel the same way, but she talks about it...to me. I try to be strong and not cry when she does this, but her dialogue is like a hot knife in my heart. I miss him. I regret some of the things that happened between us. I wish we'd had a better relationship and that I had more memories of him, and better memories of him. When the Mother Unit and he separated, some very scary things happened, things that still burrow into my deepest core to cause a subtle dread in the child turned adult. But it doesn't stop me from missing him. I just want another day with him. I'd make the most of every minute and make sure he knew that I truly loved him. I'm not sure he really knew that when he died and it breaks my heart to think of it. My relationship with my Father Unit is definitely a major link in my own Jacob Marley's Chain.

I miss the energy and sanctity of a Circle of Witches, working together and singing together. There was a passage in Dies the Fire I read today that brought back the Magickal moments experienced in Hecate Triskele. I miss the Temple and, especially, the sodded Circle found at the base of the dangerous stone steps that led to it. The times I had with Lord Ariel Morgan, when we worked together as High Priestess and High Priest, were particularly astounding because I felt the presence of the Living Goddess within me. He and I spoke such sacred words during those times, our eloquence going beyond our capacity as humans outside the Circle.

Being Solitary isn't always easy. And knowing that I can never go back to the mountain, to the sacred Caledonii Circle, makes me very sad indeed. It's like never being able to go home. I may write Ariel and ask him if the Circle still exists and if his parents would mind my visiting sometime. It's a drastic move, but one that needs doing because the ache to return there just grows as the years pass by.

Storm Moon is coming soon. The moon of March has always held a special place in my Witch's heart. I guess you could say that Storm Magick is one of my specialties. It may be time for a High Ritual at the coming Esbat. Prayers need to be said. Cleansing needs to be performed. A reconnection needs to be made.

And, afterward, perhaps I'll look for active Covens in the area, just to visit and soak up the energies only a group of Witches can create. Or maybe not. Being Solitary isn't easy, but it isn't easy to not be Solitary either.

Mood: melancholy
Where? home
Music: Dimmu Borgir - Unorthodox Manifesto

To anyone who might observe the Sabbats, just let me say.......

HAPPY
BEALTAINNE

Mood: celebratory
Music: Shriekback "Terribly Swollen"

This is the only tarot where I felt completely unfettered with having to look anything up to verify what I was seeing. The communication between the deck and my subconscious brain was astounding. I outed a woman at work once for having an extramarital affair that showed up in the spread provided for her. We grew extremely close starting that day, understandably so. I took the deck and placed them in a skin back on which I had decorated with some magickal sigils and personal markings. Now I can't find them. I have the feeling that I'll find them in the next week, though and, when I do, I'll use them in a manner I've never have done before: I'll turn their keen insight on myself.

Mood: enthralled
Music: Law & Order: CI (With Julian Sands....mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm)

It's a song title from a piece on "Haunted Box of Switches" by Barry Andrews, and it feels like that's what I've been doing. In all actuality, I've been going through dresser drawers. I found my old Rider-Waite deck, my Celtic Tarot, and the box for the Robin Wood Tarot but, in lieu of cards, there was instead a wax poppet, a wooden heart, a small bag of keys, and a scrap of paper that says "psychic work" in Tarmi Tamllorann.

Also found:

A draft of some section of The Chalice, dating back to probably 1988, not long after Cadmus' creation.
My Witches' Rede and Initiation taper given to me when I was initiated into First Degree.

My wooden Pentacle purchased at Rainbows & Moonbeams "back in the day."

My ceramic Pentacle made by yours truly.

My bag of FUTHARK.

A paper spell I'd done back in 1991 to help Pierce, one of Johnna's many neglected pets, find a decent home.

My old Witches Bible by Janet and Stewart Ferrar.

Some black candles so old they are literally disintegrating

This makes me want to pull out all my other Craft paraphernalia and conduct a full-blown, no-holds-barred High Ritual. One of my favourite kinds. Not to make magick or engage in any wish-fulfillment; rather, to worship ~ just worship and do so with a deep and unfettered passion.

Rose Red is on Sci-Fi right now. Mmmmmmmmmmm.....Julian Sands.....

Mood: sleepy
Music: Rose Red on Sci-Fi

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Tinhuviel Artanis

Entries tagged with witchcraft

Brighid

Activism

She Changes...

Marina Charge

Full Moon and Skin

The Nose Remembers...

Black Tourmaline Chakra Pendant

The Solitary Witch

Mother Grove Goddess Temple

The Popularity of Harry Potter and Real Witchcraft.

1780 Words

Publishing Woes, Nick and Knack, Brick and Brack, Frick and Frack, and Things

Broom Closet

What's so good about this Friday?

If you participate in a ritual...

In the Presence of Gustav

Crones

Queen Lilith

Withdrawal and more Blood Crown scribblings

Sometimes....

Dreadfully Morose Emo Post

Woo!

Robin Wood Tarot

"Going through the Old Diary"