The Ramblings and Wanderings

Archive for January, 2010

Dear normal people of the Pagan movement. First of all let me state that I am very happy to see you, and your adorable children joining up. Witchy Soccer Mom are sooooo cute, and it’s nice to have real professionals (like lawyers) not afraid to call themselves Wiccan, or Druid, or whatever in public now. In no way do I want to chase you out of this big old stone soup of religions and magickal practices.

However, I want to make a few things clear to you.

There is no way in cold, dark Hel I am going to go mainstream and PC myself. So please stop trying to paint all of Paganism with the same PC brush. Please stop pretending that you are somehow better than the goth kid with the giant pentacle, or the naked hippy chick at fest.

Those naked hippy chicks were out there, bare assed naked earning us the right to be naked back in the 60’s, 70’s and 80’s … they also lead the way for us to be recognised as real faiths. They build the first Pagan organizations and it’s the now grey haired naked hippy chicks that fight to get pentacles on the gravestones of Wiccan soldiers. So stop looking down your nose at that naked hippy chick with dreadlocks in her hair, stop telling her to put some clothes on, and show a little respect.

Now, about those goth kids out in the world wearing giant pentacles and Thor’s hammers for all to see. While you all were hiding in your broom closets, those goth kids and their giant pentacle were being spit on, beat up and pushed around. It was their tenacity to keep showing up at school or the mall, sporting a giant pentacle and a black eye and spit in their purple hair that made those bullies give up … so that you could feel safe to come out of your broom closet. So please stop acting like those goth kids don’t exist or don’t have the same rights as a Pagan or Witch that you do.

I have just as much of a right to show up at Circle in a motorcycle jacket as you do in pink sweater vest. In fact, it may very well be that because I’m in a biker jacket that those assholes calling nasty names at us from the otherside of the park are staying on the otherside of the park. Cause seriously pink sweater vests make you look like a pussy. But hey, if you like them, then wear them. I would never tell you what to wear.

So please, keep spreading Paganism in the suburbs, I think it’s awesome. Just don’t think you can drive the rest of us away or turn a messy little Hedgewitch into Martha Stewart.

Okay? Thanks!

I am 29 years old, well travelled, well worn, know what the meaning of hard work is etc etc but I am also not in my Mother phase. I still like to stay up late and dance, play loud music, be silly and giggle and such.

I am not a kid, I find it very difficult to socalize with students and other girls in their twenties and Maiden phase because they are still very much “kids” the biggest concern being getting drunk or borrowing money from daddy to pay the rent or something … And I’m too mature for them and feel like a stick in the mud or like some kind of older sister playing babysitter.

But most of the women in my age group who aren’t still girls are Mommies. I find it just as difficult to socalize with them, first off they tend to act like there’s something wrong with me for not being married with no kids, and they aslo seem to have nothing going on but being Mommy. I have nothing to contribute to conversations about losing the baby fat or potty training. Also I am too immature for them! Too loud, to rebellious, too bold and daring, too silly.

I belong no-where. I’m stuck in the middle with no (in real life, not online) friends.

It sucks!

Poor me.

I am teaching a class for mysticwicks at their Circle of Teaching

it starts up Jan 11th, register with the CoT and message me to enroll!

Cottage Craft & Wild Witcheries is for anyone looking to integrate their spiritual and magickal practice with their daily lives, from the kitchen to the garden, from the family room to the wilderness. A magickal practice does not cease once you pass through your front door, whether you are heading inside or out, as such this class will bring the magickal into the mundane and teach you how to carry it with you wherever you go, be that in your home, a vacant lot in the heart of the city, or at a nature reserve.
Our goal is to explore creating both a Home-based and Nature-based practice of Witchcraft, the class will not be specific to any one Tradition (Wicca, Heathen etc) but provide a framework that you can use to create a workable practice of your own or build around any Tradition that you already practice.
This class will be accessible for those new to Witchcraft but will also provide a challenge for anyone looking to move beyond Paganism 101. It is written with the assumption that you have read at least one Paganism 101 book in the past, however.

Don’t say anything negative

Don’t rock the boat

Don’t weed the garden

Just let Paganism get over grown

*

You have to stay positive

Even when it’s stupid

Just smile and sing

Even if it’s boring

*

Don’t go looking

For anything harder

Don’t think any deeper

Paganism 101

Is all we have to offer

*

We’ve got next to nothing

For your generation

We never once thought

The kids we raised on this stuff

Would one day find it quite stale

Might find the worry and bother

Over lighting right colored candles

To be redundant and pale

*

So shut up kid

Don’t you complain

Offering more than Wicca 101

Seems like such a pain

*

Just study the same subjects

Again and again

See how it’s just a little different

Each and every time?

We are satisfied

You’re not

And we don’t know why?

In the deepest and darkest slumber

When the world is plunged in cold and snow

The Earth rests gripped in the heart of Winter

Cloaked in ice and freezing winds that harshly blow

The King who wears the Holly crown

Sits high upon His icy throne

*

We with one ear pressed to the frozen ground

Do hear the sounds of returning warmth

With creaks and groans the Goddess gives birth

To a Son of Oak and light and mirth

Just as the Sun begins its slow return

*

As the Oak babe is suckled and fed

A meal of warming earth and melting snow

The Holly King begins to feel his age

As crocus blooms and tulips push through

Holly knows his time is near an end

Youth no more, now a wise sage

*

On the day that we call Equinox

Young Oak and old Holly now

Stand as equals in the Earth’s heart

Though we know that some day soon

Sadly one will have to depart

*

And so the chase has begun

Round from Winter to Summer’s return

Oak gives chase as Holly leads the race

When wise old Holly can no longer run

He draws a sword against His own Son

A clash of sword and smash of staves

Holly will not easily give way

*

The Lord of Misrule rests in death

Wearing his Ivy and Holly crown

He awaits rebirth with Summer’s peak

The Lord of Sun-lit woodlands

Wears his Ash and Oaken crown

He rules now until the Autumn breeze

The Lady of the great green Earth

Wears her hawthorn and blossom crown

She now prepares for her wedding feast

*

We honour the Flower Maiden, who blesses the blooms

Who is made of meadowsweet, oak-blossom and broom

We are the ones who dance with the Blooming Bride

Ancient and modern rites to celebrate May-tide

*

In the brightest and warmest of celebrations

When the land burst with life and growth

The Sun hangs hot in a blue sky

Blessing our crops and herds and our lives

The King in his Oaken crown

Walks the land with stag by His side

*

We who play and dig in the dirt

Feel the winds shift and the world turn

With a rustle of the wheat field and the ripening of fruit

The Goddess birth a Son of Ivy and Holly too

Now the Sun peaks and begins to wane

*

We honour the Summer Queen, Maiden no longer

Who brings berries and fruit and makes the days stronger

We gathered to witness Her pledge her troth

Where bud and blossom Promise to us Summer’s growth

Summer Queen we thank you for the fertile and abundant land

*

Now the Holly child begin to grow

Fed on the first fruits of the Summer

His waxing strength turns the land towards Autumn

Oak King grows from wild young Hunter

To resting wise Lord ready for slumber

He raises His hand and the land He does bless

The last of His love He gives to the Earth Mother

*

The second Equinox now begins

With Autumn rains and cooling winds

Elderly Oak and youthful Holly

Are once again balanced in harmony

We gather the Harvest and wait for the Hunt

*

It seems that before we know it

We huddle inside and we run and we hide

From the first frosts and from the Wild Hunt

The last of the Harvest is tucked in storage

As Holly tracks Oak with spear in hand

Father and Son, Brother to Brother

They begin that ancient struggle

*

The King of Sun-lit woodlands deep

Gives up His flowered and Oaken crown

He awaits rebirth with Winter’s peak

The Lady of the abundant Earth

Adorned in Her darkest gown

Weds her Holly King and then She

Prepares for Winter’s sleep

The Lord of Misrule takes the throne

Wearing His Ivy and Holly crown

He will rule ’till Spring birds sing

*

We honour the icy Crone, who is also our Mother

Winter winds do shake Her bower

With Her Earthly gifts tucked safely in storage

Meat and grains and fruit dried and put away

We deck the halls and build up the fire

*

And so we will lovingly tend that fire

Pour offerings and make merry

All in Their honour

We sing songs in Their praise

We drum and we dance

With the good Gods

Around the great Wheel

That never stops turning