It’s All Rather a lot of Bother
(okay, I’ve been working on this one for a while now. But it wasn’t ready yet. Now it is)
When folks come over and inquire about the macaroni in the offering dishes upon my house shrine I act like it’s no big deal. I just made too much and so I gave it to my spirits. It gets a little more complicated to explain that I am expected by my spirits to make too much and give them their fair share. That I keep their offering bowls small because they expect them to be filled.
It’s all rather a lot of bother.
Spirit work and devotional practice that is. A bother. That’s why it’s called work and practice I suppose.
Years ago, I was researching medicine bags and crane bags and the like. I came across something talking about Native American shamans and their relationship with their medicine bags, and with the spirits within their medicine bags. For some, they had to sing a specific song for each item/spirit in the bag before opening it. Over the years the bag would acquire more and more items. When they died, they might pass their bag onto someone… Continue reading
To Tread Lightly
I wash myself in the river.
As I do so I murmur quietly. I have learned the power of words. I give it voice. Using my breath. Vibration.
I wash myself in the river. The cool water runs down my legs and arms and neck. Though the hem of my skirt is tucked up into my waistband it still gets wet. My hair is the color of clotted blood when it is damp and under a night sky, it drips river water down my back. It is not dirt that I remove with the water … but it is swept away by the current nonetheless.
Crash paddles to me, returning from her attempts to follow the offering tossed in the river as they floated away. She gives me a look that says “Why the hell are you throwing sticks and bits of plants into the river if I’m not to chase them?”
I laugh and beckon her to follow me unto the shore. My sandals make squelching sounds as I work my way up the river bank.
I come to a tunnel of vegetation that runs parallel to the river. One side is the weeded… Continue reading
Little Random Things
I haven’t been up for writing a long and proper post lately, I’ve got stuff going on and all. But I have been writing little bits and pieces of this and that in a word document. Sort of like a series of mini posts or fragments from a stream of consciousness. Well, here they are:
Sometimes it’s annoying when your divination set and spirits keep telling you the same damned thing. Especially when it’s freaking obvious. Yes, I know that, thank you … got anything else to say? No? Uh, well fine, thanks anyways.
You know someone is really into arts and crafts when they stop in mid ritual to chat about an afghan.
I had the girls come over after Bren finished hauling his stuff out to give me a hand. It was kind of like that scene in Practical Magic when they use the phone tree system to call for help. Only I didn’t have a sexy but dead guy possessing my sister. I just needed some help getting off my self pitying ass to move some furniture and clear a little negative energy. I felt bad and tried backing out of it last minute,… Continue reading
The Dawn Chorus
We slip into the night, my dog and I.
The city is quiet, the neighbourhood is sleeping. Gone are the city sounds of traffic and blaring TVs. I can hear the crickets chirp and the wind in the trees. I can hear the river as it passes over scoured stone.
The street is lit by street lights, garden lights and the waning moonlight. I can see the stars tonight.
Our street is cooled by the night breeze and a rain storm that passed by hours before.
Surrounded by people, we are alone.
Crash takes off for her favourite corner, where the big rose bush blooms and the weedy mustard whispers of wilder places. I gently stroke the pink roses and a few petals are given up to me. I murmur my thanks. Crash gives her water to the shrubbery and weeds.
We turn and head for the river. As we get closer, the old dog’s ears prick. She wiggles with excitement. She loves the river. She races ahead, through the green park, under maple trees and to the promenade. The poor old thing is too short to see over the concrete banister that blocks her… Continue reading
Flavour of the Month: Secrets!
One of the big topics going around Witch-y blogs this month is secrecy and how much you share.
I come across as much more Pagan-ish on my blog … because a lot of the Witch-y stuff just doesn’t get mentioned **at all** As if it does not exist. Which is tough when I’m accused of not being a Witch, because of the Pagan stuff being the most prominent. It’s easy to take the bait and get upset by that. But if certain spirits and certain practices can’t be talked about on a blog, well then that’s the price I pay!
I have a hard time with keeping quiet and keeping secrets. I’ve had a good talking to from my Hedge gals (and certain spirits and such) over that. I have no guile. It doesn’t come naturally.
I WANT to share, for a lot of reasons. One main reason is because I am BAD at not sharing. Damn my glass face, open personality and tendency to trust everyone. Another reason is loneliness and feeling isolated. Another reason is the need to serve and be useful and helpful.
Another reason (one of the main reasons why I started this blog in the… Continue reading
To Fly By Night
Hoofprints in the Wildwood
Recent Comments