Thursday, April 30, 2015

Walpurgisnacht!

I wrote this recently. It was an exercise into a form of writing I don't usually play in... it was fun, and hopefully the spirit of it will come through the words. 

The Witches Sabbat
Off to the Witches’ Sabbat we go,
A sojourn into the divine personal,
By the light of the moon onward into flight,
An inward journey will only do.

Pulled by a call into the brush thick and dense,
The hardest is the first step of many,
Therein before an altar of truth all kneel,
Found here is the initiation by heart.

Upon a mound the throne does sit,
By whose authority the spiritual is wed,
To stave every hunger there is a simple feast,
The hallowed deepens with each toast.

A heralding wild call and we dance,
The rhythm of life the drums we beat,
Twists and turns the steps spin,
Transformed in cycles are we.

By a crackling fire we open heavy eyes,
A blanket of eternity draped thereon,
Continue before our eyes the Sabbat goes,
Never having to leave all is here.



Boidh Se!

-SM

"Lost in a thicket bare-foot upon a thorned path."

Tuesday, April 21, 2015

Stir the Cauldron

There comes a point when the Witch knows. They know what they need to be doing in the work, they know what resonates with them, and they know how to be in that place between the worlds. They simply know. This does not mean that they always do the work. Knowing a thing and doing it are quite different. This point of being is a threshold in their Craft though, the step from learning to possessing.

Great magick and internal alchemy result not only when the Witch has the realization of knowing their place in the Craft and cosmos but when they proclaim “fear, ego, shadow, dweller, etc, be damned I am doing this thing!” There is an old Latin phrase that is common amongst the world’s Special Forces that applies here, “Qui audet adipiscitur!” In English it is “S/He who dares wins!”

Learn it; do it. Just as the Craft of the Witch is deceptively easy it is equally complicated when not tempered by actually experiencing it. The Craft is transgressive; it is on the fringe challenging us to transform. We just have to dare to stir the cauldron.

Boidh Se!

-SM

“Lost in a thicket bare-foot upon a thorned path.”

Saturday, April 18, 2015

Milestone Post: Reflective Journey in Pictures

Today is the first step for this blog into a next round of hundreds, with 200 posts written and published. Seriously though this blog is my own personal best record of my Craft and how it has evolved over the years. I am horrible at magickal diary keeping—truly I am. This is not to say I don’t have records. There are binders and notebooks staked high full of rituals written, experiments, recipes, and the like.

As such, this blog is a chronicle of a journey. I can at any point open an old post and whisk myself away to a time before. There are even a few posts I would likely argue with myself about. New revelations and experiences certainly change our world view. So I thank you all for coming on this ride with me. Sure there are some things I’ve held back or that you miss but the essence of the journey has stayed the same.

This morning I picked an arbitrary number, but one that seemed high in my blog’s data analysis, and ranked my top previous posts based on the most viewed. These can be found below.

I also included all four guest posts and one interview since all of these individuals were gracious enough to humor me. These posts come first followed by my own

Enjoy this recap as a journey in pictures. Also, blog love is always appreciated!

-------------------------------------------------*Guests*-------------------------------------------------

(click the images)




-------------------------------------------------*All ME: Top 15*-------------------------------------------------

(click the images)
















That’s it, that’s all I got. It has been a great journey. Now onward!

Boidh Se!

-SM

“Lost in a thicket bare-foot upon a thorned path.”

Wednesday, April 15, 2015

By Three Drops



I wrote the following as an exercise of sorts:

By Three Drops

The sorrow of death spins suffering into fabric,
The moon illuminates tombs of silent agony,
And legends of woe are made.

The isolation of walls tower casting shadows,
The gloom of loneliness grips in despair,
And the soul cries longing to commune.

The void of nothingness shrieks of the terror of oblivion,
The hands grasp clawing in desperation,
And fear whispers that nothing is there.

There is a path through the woods without a map,
There is no beginning and no goal,
But in the now illusion can be stripped from the eyes.

There is an elixir brewed in the heart,
Three drops of mystery, salvation each one,
But from the chalice it must be sipped.

The drop of rebirth the sun rises by,
The next of unity the crown is returned by,
And the last of eternity the heart dances by.


Boidh Se!

-SM

"Lost in a thicket bare-foot upon a thorned path."

Monday, April 13, 2015

It's All in Your Head

Outside of my regularly scheduled devotional life this weekend had a few significant things pop up in my Crafting. Some of it was planned and some was just about going with the flow.

Saturday I cleaned the Temple Room, because it had fallen into use. I cleaned altars, shelved a few books, reorganized the library of shadows (what else do you call a cabinet full of BoSes and personal grimoires?), picked up magickal debris, and cleared away food stuff offerings that were showing signs of being spent. Generally I take the old food offerings to the edge of a forest, that whole threshold thing, but haven’t needed to do much of that since moving here. I’ve thought about changing that habit up a bit in light of there being a river less than 50 yards from my back door. Or I could always go with the ole crossroads method. Anyway, I digress.

So when I was gathering up a few items from one of the altars the words “What are you doing with those?” ran through my mind. To which I replied that I was taking them out and was likely to leave them at the edge of a forest. More words jumped to mind, “Take mine to a cemetery.” So now I’m planning a trip accordingly, which isn’t an issue or anything. I’m not surprised by this turn of events, but I will add that this is the first time one of my spirit allies has indicated any specific preference beyond my normal means. I can’t say this with magickal debris (items left over from spell-work) though; such is rather common in that area.

Now Sunday’s Crafting was all about tea. I finally sat down to have a chat with Nana. The tea was good. Though I didn’t have any scones I gave her some Girl Scout cookies instead. I feel the offerings were well received. Anyway, the conversation was one that was both deeply fulfilling and emotional tugging. I haven’t talked with Nana about anything going on in my life since my eldest child was still in diapers. Let’s just say there was a lot to cover just to get to where I am at now.

For anyone reading my blog that has never talked with their ancestors, start with just one. Call them by name, give them some food and drink (add no salt), and tell them about your life. Don’t worry about whether or not you look like you are talking to an empty room. Just remember as the subtitle to LMD’s book Low Magick says, “It’s all in your head… you just have no idea how big your head is.” Now with all of that said, don’t forget to listen, full body listening that is. Once you have built a good working relationship, call upon another and keep adding to the litany of names until your ancestor altar is full.

Happy Crafting!

Boidh Se!

-SM

“Lost in a thicket bare-foot upon a thorned path.”

Friday, April 10, 2015

Is Anyone on the Throne?

This morning I was poking an article, as I tend to do, with a crooked finger to see what it was all about. Specifically it was Thorn’s new blog (here). I have enjoyed her previous blog (here) and wanted to see if the same would be true now that she gets to take a quill to patheos. I digress though. I read it, enjoyed it, and mulled it over the fire for a bit. For some strange reason I then decided to read the comments section, which is not something I am apt to do. I didn’t stay long; it was only a glance before I decided I wasn’t that interested in reading people debate the article.

Just before I completely abandoned the comments to the whims of the internet, upon which I would likely never look again, something about there being Gods and Goddesses as patrons of cities caught my eye. I didn’t bother to read it beyond that but it was enough to set the mind upon a course.

Why don’t I know who the patron God and or Goddess of this city is? From the moment I parked my broom here I began to methodically met and build a working relationship with the ancestors of this place, the genii loci, various Saints, local figures from folk-lore, and a whole host more. I did all of this because that is what a Witch does, they know the magickal terrain in which they reside and the inhabitants therein.

At first, I found this upsetting, like I had failed somehow. Once I became aware of the feeling though I was able to loosen the hook it was using to hold onto the present with and let it sink into the well of the past. This did not change the fact that I wanted to know whom. So I asked google.

Google failed. I found nothing about either a Patron God or Goddess for this place. I found a lot about the patron saints (Joan of Arc, Lady of Prompt Succor, and St. Expedite by the way), nothing I didn’t already know though. I’m not quite ready to conclude there isn’t one (or more). There are a couple of different courses of action I could take from here; try to uncover it myself, try to establish one, or ask others that have been part of the local magickal community long enough to know. As there are some people I trust in the area to know such I’m going to go with the third option. A hunch tells me though that there simply isn’t one, which does not change the fact the place is over flowing with spirits. If so, I’m not going to try and establish any as I don’t feel it would be needed.

Does your city have a Patron? If so, do you know who they are?

Boidh Se!

-SM

“Lost in a thicket bare-foot upon a thorned path.”