Review: Last Year’s Birthday Reading
So, about a year ago I did a casting and reading for my 30th birthday and shared it with you. I thought that before I do a reading for my 31st birthday, I ought to have a look at last year’s reading and see how accurate it was.
Here we go.
I was concerned that there was nothing in the South. This turned out to be rather true. This past year really wasn’t about passion and fire. It was more practical, getting things done. Not much for adventures. I didn’t get any more worked up about anything than I normally do. I finished some projects, took on a few new things (like the tambourine) … but nothing really, REALLY, lit a fire under me. It was a “put your nose to the grind stone and try to be an adult” kind of year. Boy, I hope next year is a little more interesting.
Acorn and Clear Quartz rolled well away from the cloth and left me wondering why is masculine virility and clarity trying to run away from me? I can’t tell you why, but they have been. The bastards.
Jingle Bell and Tiger… Continue reading
To Be Alone and Useless
One of the biggest parts of my Path and practice has been that of a solitary. By that I don’t mean not being a member of a coven. I mean isolation and loneliness. Feeling cut off or different from everyone else. Not having someone with shared and similar experiences to talk to, let alone practice with.
I do have a few friends here in Ottawa (and other places) who have done some Hedgecrossing. But they have only begun to walk those roads, or have crossed only a handful of times. I have yet to meet another spirit worker, ancestor worshipper, Hedgewalker … like me. I know that they are out there. I see them on documentaries about shamans, I read their books, I read their blogs, and I listen to their podcasts. But face to face conversation, no.
Certainly I’ve met plenty of people who seem to think they know what they are doing. Or who do Hedgecrossing and spirit work. But their Path is still very different. No Tricksters, no dealing with the Dead. Their version of the Stag God is one of grapes and fun and sex. Not raw rutting danger, running blood and rotting flesh.… Continue reading
Random things that have been on my mind
I need to work with my casting collection more. I require clients. I have been considering offering to do a few castings at the Wild Geek Hang. I’ve never done long distance castings before, that should be interesting.
I have also been looking for an additional piece, something to represent kids, children, childhood, the inner child etc … maybe a brightly colored bead?
I am also interested in trying casting into a wooden bowl and reading from the top down. But since I have a new cloth I am still working with, this will have to wait.
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There are creeps and then there are creeps.
There are men who aren’t skilled socially, the kind of guys you have to draw firm and obvious boundaries with. Sometimes you gotta say “no” loud and clear. Usually they don’t mean harm, they are just either clueless or the kind of guys who push their luck.
I understand *intellectually* that many women find men who are “social retards” to be creepy. But honestly, I don’t get it. Is it that they can’t defend their own boundaries; can they not say “no”? Do they not know how to shield? Do they… Continue reading
Beltaine 2011
My ritual group is meeting for Beltaine on Wednesday but for the actual day of I was lucky enough to have the day off. Yay! So I slept in and took care of the pets, hopped in the shower and all that good stuff. Then I headed off to Lissa’s place, passing by garage sales on my way. I am proud to say I bought nothing at said garage sales. Lis and I picked up some subs (for picnic purposes) and headed off to the arboretum park here in Ottawa (arboretum park = tree park).
We wandered aimlessly around the park, reading the plaques that told us which tree was what, and trying our best to guess correctly what we were looking at.
The English oaks are always impressive, its easy to stand under one such and imagine why the Druids like to practice in groves of them.
I adore the kind of trees who droop and thus, once they are big enough, create a kind of shelter out of their own limbs. Especially the evergreens.
A wind storm had come through Ottawa a couple of days before and so there were branches laying about the park.… Continue reading
Walking
I was walking a street in suburbia this afternoon. The sun was at my back and the wind was cold. A few doors down and across the way a door opens. A man in a brown jacket steps onto the front porch and then turns back to speak to someone in the house.
Then it hits me. As if the wind did not break upon my body but rather ran through it. Half a moment of fuzzy confusion and then a familiar shift in consciousness. Suddenly the world is full of glare, lens flare, as if the sun had swung around and into my face.
The only thing in focus is the man in the brown jacket. His head still turned to face inside the home. He begins to speak, I can hear him clearly, despite the fact that he is not close and is turned away from me. His voice echos towards me as if amplified somehow. He says “Okay Juni, stay the course. Everything will work out in the end.”
I blinked. And still walking, turned my corner. The man closed the door and started down the drive.
Another shift. A deep breath. The wind ceases to flow… Continue reading
To Fly By Night
Hoofprints in the Wildwood
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