Death and Rebirth

My new tarot deck makes mention of how uncomfortable with are with death, how we just don't like to know about what happens to things after they die -- and speaks of Death as "the energy of endings", but always then the cycle of renewal that follows.

I took the Death card from all three of my tarot decks tonight and was amused to discover that all three are birds - a condor, a skeletal bird, and a phoenix.

From left to right - Animal Totem Tarot, Wild Unknown Tarot, and Shadowscapes Tarot

I've been thinking of death in the literal, physical sense a fair bit lately. My grandmother's illness has brought me to the stark realization that her passing quietly and unexpectedly in her sleep would be an incredible kindness versus the possible drawn-out spiral of losing herself to Alzheimer's disease. A coworker's mother also has terminal cancer, and was recently given 24 to 48 hours left, so we were comforting her as best we could while she was at work.

In the metaphorical sense, I'm learning that the death-renewal cycle need not always be painful. We come to expect that when there is an ending, there will be a rebirth, but it will be a bloody, painful, messy process, one that needs to be followed with gentle healing, picking up the pieces.

But what if Death is the healing? What if the tearing down, the cutting apart, the burning and walking away, is the recovery?

I spoke before of severing some facets of my life that were making me unhealthy, that were sickly and stagnant. So much anxiety, so much tension and stress and malaise bound up in so much, so many hours of my life spent on these things. Death brought me relief. The mighty end, that freed me of so much weight. We so often fear death, fear endings, and I think I was clinging, too, to things that no longer served - and that is what we say, isn't it? Those of us who perhaps got a Wiccan-ish flavour to our practice early on? "I release all that does not serve." We cling to our own ball and chain, afraid to drift away if we shed that weight.

I've been mentally healthier, calmer and happier, than I've been in years. My rebirth came as glorious renewal, cleared vision, new purpose and drive. Perhaps it was the timing, the needfulness of this cycle in my life, or perhaps it is all in how I chose to look at it?

Are there any facets of your life where Death and Renewal may restore your vigor and soul?

Stuck sideways between the metaphysical and the physical is our back yard. We saw it as full of potential when we bought this place. Why, put up a privacy fence, plant some flowers, and tada! Our own little paradise. The other thing Death is good at, is stripping us of our delusions.

Our back garden wall is home to a massive rat nest - so there went money, and effort, and no doubt more still - we will never likely be 100% free of them (we live next to a grocery store), but we're hoping to reduce their numbers to a point where the health risks of having so many so near are mitigated. And our beautiful gardens we had romantically planned to fill with flowers, are so soil-barren that I managed to put my foot through one to the near top of a rubber boot. I was afraid at first that I'd fallen into a rat warren, but after a lot of digging, shifting rock and stomping, we realized that the previous owner had tried to compensate for too little soil by piling up rocks in shoddy walls, and the soil has sunk and settled and eroded around these until chunks of the yard are actually hollow. He also left years worth of leaves to rot, so huge patches of the yard are so overgrown with dead grass and rotting leaves that the grass beneath choked and died. But several evenings of hard work, and we've bagged up piles of leaves and dead grass, dismantled shoddy rock walls and rebuilt some, and once the weather is consistent enough to set concrete, we'll be out with mortar taking all those stones (my gods this yard has so many damn rocks) and building proper walls and a fire pit, filling beds with top soil and bark mulch.

We've found an endless number of salamanders under all those leaves. We've been careful to relocate them to dark damp corners near the rocks we're not going to be disturbing. I adore them. (they are eastern red backs, if anyone wants to google)

Even after the work we've done, we have so much ahead of us - but each time we finish, the yard looks a little cleaner, a little greener, and it's a wonderful feeling.

Death in the end, is change. We can be subject to it, but we can create it, too. Choices I have made, with circumstances brought to me, have brought a great cycle around in my life. And now we are agents of renewal in our space, our bit of land, that we are working with love and commitment - like the condor in my tarot deck, we are clearing up the dead so the land can breathe.

It's a wonderful feeling.

(I'll be posting a video tomorrow night, of a tour of our yard Amy did a week ago - and me tracing her steps tonight to show how much we've accomplished.)

Thought and Memory

A lot has happened.

I suspect 99% of the folks reading this will know a bit about why I've been gone so long. Long story short, we are now happy homeowners in a house that is finally feeling like home. I had a rough mental health spell - one of my worst ever - but I got the help I needed, and though it was a very hard time, I managed to keep going, get up every morning and go to work, eat, drink, sleep, so that is something.

And now I'm doing very well!

Our new home has a small third bedroom that has become our sacred/altar room - that is its only function, and it is so incredible to have such a space. No more altar crammed into a corner of the bedroom - I've allowed my altar to stretch out, giving me a good chunk of space to have my "seasonal" setup, and also a mostly clear space where I can "work" - and numerous shelves and nooks to give me gods and spirits space. Some things are still empty-ish, but it's always a work in progress, but it's been a lot of fun getting it set up the way I wanted it.

Our yard is incredible - again once we get it cleaned up, and get a privacy fence put in, it's going to be an amazing space for fires, drinks, parties, barbecues - and rituals.

I've gone through some pretty crazy spiritual changes and transformations - I'm working with a specific animal right now as a sort of "totem" and am feeling very strongly drawn to start looking into more shamanic practices. (I guess not a huge shock given my relationship with Odin.) More on that later!

My spiritual path and my personal life recently got shaken up a bit. Revelation comes sometimes for me in bursts - I realized a situation was no longer even remotely healthy for me, and in one of those deepthought flashes, I realized it had not, in fact, been healthy for a very long time-years in fact. It takes a lot for me to throw up my hands and walk away. But I will not be mistreated, held to unreasonable expectations, and taken for granted, either. The severing was not gentle or without blood, but it was necessary and beautiful in its finality.

I've felt better, been happier, less stressed, more social, more me ever since.

Our Ostara ritual was beautiful. There were four of us - myself and my wife, our friend the Wolf, and a fourth friend whom we haven't been able to practice with in awhile. She brought her dog, who found our ritual spot for us, then lay quietly within the circle and was on her absolute best behavior until we were done.

In case anyone was wondering, natural dyes do work *fantastically* on eggs. These are yellow onion skins (The dark red-orange) red cabbage (the blue) and beets (the soft brown).

My wife got me an amazing set of tarot cards for my birthday - The Animal Totem Tarot by Leeza Robertson. It's a new deck, just released in late March - unlike most of the animal themed decks I've seen, this one tries to still incorporate a good chunk of symbolism from more "traditional" decks. And the artwork is simply gorgeous, to boot.

The only downside to my days are that my grandmother is increasingly unwell. She's fallen prey to the only illness my family has a strong genetic predisposition to - Alzheimer's. Every week now she gets worse - she no longer knows my aunt, who's lived with her for more than 40 years. They are trying, finally, to get her into a care facility, but it could take years for approval and a bed to come up. It makes me heartbroken to know how much she's lost - this is a woman who was adamant she never wanted to be a burden to anyone,  and kept a journal every single day of her life so she'd never forget a thing. She'd write about my visits, what we did - did I help in the garden, did we play in the yard? She kept a separate logbook for her garden - what was planted, what worked, what didn't - what colour of this or that flower, what type of peas and beans and beet seeds she used. How many pints of raspberries she picked. To see her so far gone that she wouldn't even recognize those journals, now, as hers...it does hurt. But only time will tell now - in some ways I hope that she passes quickly from her illness, rather than linger for another countless number of years not remembering who she is.

I'll have more specific things to talk about soon - some of my spiritual growth, my changes, what I've learned. I just wanted to give everyone a big catch-up on where the hell I've been.

Darkness Descending

This is, by far, my favourite time of year.

I am a bit sad to see the sun start to wane earlier and earlier - especially on my current work schedule - but I love the gathering crispness of the air. And Hallowe'en is an all-time favourite from long before I knew it as Samhain. All the kitschy, spooky pumpkins and ghosts, orange and black, dark purple and lime green, witch hats and spiderwebs. I love it all. A lot of my witchy/pagan friends joke that Hallowe'en is the time to "buy all the decorations we'll use year-round".

I spent most of my morning out with my wife and a good friend, walking in the woods, chatting about things, exploring off the beaten path. I have a little cozy spot near the ocean in one of our local parks, and I was finally able to take them there and show them. I collected acorns, and periwinkle shells and beach glass to decorate with, and left handfuls of birdseed as an offering in thanks. 

When I got back, I did some tidying, then took a cleansing shower with soap I bought from the new withcy store that just opened in my City. I dressed in clean, fresh pyjamas, and got to work.

I set my Samhain altar up this year and things are a bit more grim than normal. The main altar which has been decked out for Samhain has a rather strong focus on the "death" aspect - in the tarot sense, of big change coming through.

Except the spoopy little pumpkin. <3

Don't mind my toes.

I took the time to completely dismantle my summery altar, clean and dust, really go through everything carefully. I had Wardruna's "Helvegen" playing on loop (it is a funeral dirge, technically speaking) and burned Kyphi on charcoal. I chose some items from my collection of altar baubles I am no longer using -  to pass along to someone else--sacrifice and letting go.

As I got started in arranging things, I took note of the wind picking up outside - it was supposed to "shower" this afternoon, and never really did - but as I got into my altar working, a sudden clap of thunder startled me, and the rain came down hard. Can't get much better than a passing thunderstorm when doing something a little sombre, but a little grand, too.

I have had visions over the summer, of an owl bearing a lantern, leading a processional of ghosts, essentially - so I made sure to factor both my little tealight lantern, and my favourite owl figures, into the altar, emphasizing that role as a psychopomp. My stag sculpture, chestnuts, pine cones, are all symbolic to me of the change in nature - the "death" of the natural world as winter draws near.

After all was set up, I snuffed the incense, and lit my candles. I shared a little bit of fudge as an offering to my ancestors and deceased relatives (we all have a huge sweet tooth), and asked for their guidance and aid during the big changes coming in my life over the next little while.

I then did a small small blot to my gods with a bit of whiskey, and rounded up all of my old herbs, sand, salt, incense dust, old charm bags and everything that is past its time - to "libate" outside.

It feels good to be back.

Chasing Ghosts

It's been a rough few weeks.

And a weird, busy summer.

I've been holding off writing (for too long) waiting to find the inspiration to talk about what's been going on with me, spiritually, but I'm having a hell of a time putting it into words.

Autumn is the season of the Pagan New Year. Of Samhain, of the growing dark, becoming introverted and introspective as the sky darkens, the air cools, our schedules start to wind down.

My practice has not been as active this summer as I would like - it happens every year, and I always feel like I am "missing out" on the season when everything is most vibrant, most alive, most buzzing with energy. But I haven't been, really. I have been vibrant, and alive, and buzzing with energy - albeit frequently exhausted. I suppose in some ways it does mimic patterns of the older ways of living - summer would be a haze of activity, planting, tending crops, working on house and homestead in fair weather,  the first work of the early harvest.  When the first whispers of winter wind around us, the days have come when we can settle and turn inward until the coming of the spring again.

I have felt a fair and odd amount of discord these days. Things are shaking loose, shaking up, stirred around. I am standing firm in some ways, and standing aside in others that I thought I would not. Miscommunication has been a bastard dog at my heel, and I am learning to separate things I must own as my doing from things that are not.

I once apologized for everything. And then, headstrong and mighty, apologized for nothing. Now I learn the hard lessons, that sometimes I must apologize for some things, but sometimes I should not - will not - will never - apologize. Learning to intuit the difference makes me mightier still.

I suppose it shouldn't shock me - a certain deity who likes dramatic change and transformation and kicking rocks at hornet nests approached me, and I have tentatively agreed to work with him. His energy is interesting to me - warmer and friendlier-seeming than the Alfather, but bouncing and giddy and a bit mad, and tugging at the corners of your mouth into a wry grin but you're not quite sure what's so gods-damned funny. I don't trust him any more than I trust Odin - but oddly have come to determine I also don't trust him any less, either. I'm still working out my thoughts on the matter.

I finished reading RitualCraft - such an easy read for such a massively thick, heavy, fine-print book. I was pleasantly surprised. I learned a lot (including that I love high drama and formal language in ritual...) I'm not a fan of the tendency to list gods by what they can be summoned for - a "correspondence" chart listing deities alongside herbs and crystals for specific wants or problems, rituals where every god fitting a certain archetype is called.... But I think (correct if I am wrong) that that is a pretty Wiccan thing, and it is a Wiccan book, so...  I guess I'm a "firm" polytheist - the gods may ultimately draw from shared wellsprings of human history and consciousness, and so overlap somewhat, but they are not merely symbols that can be interchanged with one another and called on for everything when there has been no working relationship established.

Once things settle down, since I finished my first year's worth of post-initiation reading for IDGAF, my next "learning project" will be taking time to really devote and properly commune with my gods. Most of my work I've done with Odin - I would like to take the time to learn the others who have approached me, or that I've made entreaties to (with proper thanks and agreed payment given after) , and form proper relationships with those who plan to stick around.

I have more to share, so much more, but I have not the words for it all. But change has been wrought, and is being wrought, and I cannot wait to tell about it.

Welcome to the new blog.

Welcome to the new me.

Hail and farewell for now. 

Still alive

So I've been scarce. I still have a lot churning in my brain I have to unpack before I can really tell much about it. 

I've been oddly disconnected lately. My altar sat in a mess for two weeks, I finally got it back in order, and realized (somewhat guiltily) that I haven't made any offerings to my gods in... Awhile. I at least haven't been begging their help either, so I'm not being exploitive or needy, but I need to get on that. 

Some of it is just business. After a few blissful months, work has been hectic because of vacations leaving us perpetually short a body. It's still nowhere near as bad as it was--but still a culture shock, and of course it's coupled with summer being such a busy time in the "real world". A few of my lovely IDGAF brethren pointed out that spiritual energy ebbs and flows like any other--and summer is a season of life and busy activity, so it may be somewhat natural that physical realm matters are keeping me tied and away from the otherworldly ones.

But I can hear voices, feel brushes of fire "out there" and I've slipped into old lazy habits of not making time to go see them. 

A new energy is approaching me as well, and I am 99% certain I know who it is--based on feels and readings and my Familiar's input. It's going to make things... Interesting. I can't even honestly question why he showed up. I know in my heart I called him, in my own way, without wholly meaning to, but simply in the way these things happen. 

I finished my fifth book since my Initiation (of 6 "learning opportunities" needed in a year). A Deed Without a Name by Lee Morgan. 

I enjoyed it quite a bit, though I have...a few issues with it. The author clearly has their own very specific definition of what a witch is--which is fair. I don't quite fit it, but still found s lot of value. That the book lends no real credence or credit to other ways of doing things, of other "types" of witches, may be bias or just "short book". The book seems to imply, for example, that carnal interactions with one's familiar or "fetch mate" are very common, but I don't know many self-described witches who've had encounters like that. The author makes mention of "the Master" but never really explains who that is.  Whether that is meant to mean "the devil" or some other force is never really clear. 

The author also lists several rituals at the back of the book--gives fairly explicit instructions (while stressing for some that this should only be done if you are already skilled in the area) and provides chants for them which she doesn't explain. Some are in English, but she never says anything about where they came from--whether they are made up or historical. There are also chants in some... Non-English language (they don't look like any language I'd be even remotely familiar with.) There is no info given about what language they are in, what they mean or where they came from. They could be made up nonsense words for all you can tell. Given the stress on being experienced before trying these things, giving mysterious chants in full with no context or background seems oddly dangerous a practice. 

This reminds me a lot of A Witch Alone, a book I found a lot of issues with--but still got a lot out of, in the end. I'd recommend it if the subject matter is of interest, but I took a fair bit of it with a grain of salt.

My next book... Since I'm apparently feeling both brave and crazy, will be RitualCraft by Azrael Arynn K and Amber K. It's... Huge and fine print and oh god I might be crazy.

Hope to have more soon.

What is witch?

What is witch?

What is witchcraft?

What is magic? 

 The warmth of the new sun at 7 o'clock on a July morning.

The silence, the din, the stillness, of the birds and the insects rising at dawn.

The smell of newly-thawed earth in spring.

The first bud on the tree. 

The curl of the fiddlehead spiraling open.

The morning fog glimmering on the strands of the spider's web.

-

The pitch and toss of the sea when the wind howls wild. 

The blue-grey and white foam and the smell of salt stirring in the air.

The rumble of distant thunder and the pale yellow glow in the sky as the storm closes in.

The exact moment the gathering shadow breaks open, and it starts to pour rain.

-

The play of moonlight piercing the pitch-black of the forest at night.

The heady smell of dew-damp earth.

The close comfort of the darkness wrapped around you like a shroud.

The sweet tingle of instinctive apprehension, when you hear the rustle-crack of wildlife stirring in the black around you. 

The feel of watchful eyes from the shadow, out of sight.

Soft earth, sharp stone, and cool grass beneath bare feet.

-

The flicker and play of flame licking hungry at the air.

The heat rushing over you like water as you stand in a circle around the bonfire.

Sweat on your brow and a chill at your spine. 

The fluttering sashay of robe and gown in the dance of candlelight. 

The silhouette of a figure outlined against the firelight, surrounded by velvet night.

Life force tingling in your fingertips and toes.

-

The thud of footfalls against the ground in steadily quickening rhythm.

The bite of exhaustion in your muscles as you swing your arms over your head with the dance.

Letting your wild soul take form around you, feathers and fur and claws. 

Howling at the moon as her light casts pale silver light amidst the murky blue-black.

-

The quiet thrill of old, forbidden knowledge and long-forgotten secrets.

The small spark of mischief in you, the quirk of your lips in a small grin. 

-

Feeling the pulse of blood, thick and dark and sacred in your veins.

Feeling it change. Feeling it slow to match the cadence of the drums.

Beat.

Beat.

Beat.

-

Tarot

I used to have a temperamental relationship with tarot decks. My first was a hand-me-down from my mother, who was into tarot cards back in the early 2000s but never did much with hers. They were decidedly hideous, I could never get them to "work" and they turned me off to tarot for quite awhile. I still have a hard time with traditional tarot decks, or decks with the traditional art style. I sometimes wonder if that first horridly ugly deck turned me off to them forevermore.

My second deck was a (in retrospect, no less hideous) "dragon tarot" I found for $15 at a local Chapters. I found I had ultimately the same difficulty with it - I seemed to have no connection to the deck, and trying to do readings was an excercise in futility.

I tried again with the more well-known Dragon Tarot, which is still pretty damn ugly. (Noticing a trend?) and had only moderately more luck.

The first deck I had that I spent a goodly amount of money on, and finally felt that connection with, is the Shadowscapes tarot. I love the art style, and I find the artist sneaky - a lot of the traditional symbolism of tarot is there, but she's hidden it in metaphor and used different ways of including it. It seems finding a deck "pretty" in some way, connecting to it artistically, is important to me. The symbolism and "traditional" measure of a deck is no good if I don't enjoy looking at it.

I have a second deck I was gifted from The Honey Badger, which is the Pagan Cats Tarot. I adore it, though I don't use it as often.

Through an interesting twist of fate, my friend ordered a deck called The Wild Unknown Tarot and ended up having a second one sent due to a shipping kerfuffle. Rather than have them pay to send the other back, she sent the money for the second deck (from me) so I could keep it.

So now I have another new deck I can't wait to use. It's almost the opposite in a lot of ways, to the Shadowscapes deck. Shadowscapes has a lot going on -  bright colours, complex images with tons of hidden bits and pieces to find. This deck is black and white with pops of colour, and very simple by comparison. I can't wait to get a feel for it.

Do you use tarot decks? Do you prefer traditional ones, or nontraditional? Bright and wild or simple?