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.”

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."

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.”

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.”

Mystery Cult Shenanigans

One of the self-imposed titles that Traditionalists refer to their community by is the “Hidden Children.” There are lots of reasons for this just as there is lots of meaning behind this label. Some of these are implicit and some implied. Today though it is one particular quality described here that is ringing in my mind.

I am a Witch, I am an Initiate, I am Priest, I am a Traditionalist, and a whole host of other labels. Many of these I have made mention of and discuss briefly here and there. Today I am one of the Hidden Children. You see my religion, my Craft, my path, and all the labels therefrom all stream through the single quality that exists at the center of a Mystery Cult.

I can’t even say that I can explain it. It is kind of like trying to explain the nature of the mysteries. The Hidden Children in this specific instance are those that stand apart, alone, in a crowded room, not because of some discrimination, elitism, or inherent difference in worth. It is akin to the phrase, “what has been seen cannot be unseen.”

One of the first things I do when I move to a new place is find the Hidden Children. They are my tribe, my people. After all, one cannot be a Priest alone. Funny thing that, we are hidden, but a group that is hidden together. I like to think of it as a bunch of kids that have made a super fun area secreted away from the adults in the middle of a corn field somewhere. We get to play all the best Witchcraft games with only ourselves to supervise.

So why is this aspect of the Hidden Children title poking me in the arm so much today? It is simple really, it has been a couple of weeks since I have played with others and I think it is time for some Mystery Cult shenanigans.

Boidh Se!

-SM

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

Just Tea

Sometimes the only offering you are able to give is not the intended one. The effort put forth is and can still be an amazingly powerful gift though. It can be a bit of a disappointment as well depending on how emotionally charged the work was.

As I mentioned in my last blog, I planned to make some of my Nana’s scones as an offering to her. Now I can cook but have never made them. So I called my mom to get the recipe. Let’s just say scones are not what I pulled out of the oven.

I can still channel the intent and effort though, Nana is just gonna get some tea and a story about my effort to make her said scones.She will understand, after all she is Nana.

Boidh Se!

-SM

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