Tag: Pagan

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season of the witch

It is that time of year again, as the veil thins and the spirits of the dead move through the land and the world remembers that witches exist.  Sure, we’re around all the time, but mostly people forget until Samhain approaches, and then suddenly we’re meant to perform our witchness for them.

Okay, so witchness isn’t a word, I get that, but still it’s not that they want to understand who we are, what we do and all that…they want us to be a “witch,” to live up to their expectations of what a witch actually is.

I identify as a witch.  I have for quite some time.  My daily life is pretty mundane:  I work, I write, I travel (having just gotten home from Denver and a conference for women/nonbinary in SFF).  On occasion, I commune with the spirit world, light a few candles on my altars.

Come Samhain, I dress up in costume and participate in the secular traditions of Halloween, as much as allowed by my living situation and workplace allowances (tomorrow I’ll be dressed as a Jedi for work)…then I come home and I light a few candles, set out some food to entice the beloved ancestors to stop by my house, and I read or watch movies until it’s time for bed. I may even open a bottle of wine or whiskey, pour out a little for the ancestors and such.

If there is time, I offer up tarot readings, because it’s a good time of year for it.

But, I’m a witch all year, not just at Samhain.  And I do these things (minus the dressing up, though I do that sometimes just for fun) all the time.  I’m not performing my witchness for anyone, I’m just being a witch.

All that said, Samhain is a time to look back, and look forward.  It is a time of reflection on what has been and a time of planting seeds for what is to come.   The old year ends, the wheel turns.  Summer fades and Autumn settles us in to prepare for Winter.  It is a sacred night when the harvest is done and the feast prepared.

And it is a night when kids of all ages dress up as their favorite super hero, princess or space man, skipping from house to house in echo of the past, and we, witch or not, praise them for their clever disguises and offer them candy and other treats as recompense for their tacit agreement to leave off the curses they might otherwise feel compelled to whisper into the night.

So, blessings to you, in this season of the witch.  May your final harvest be plentiful and feed you well through the winter season.  May your fallow fields lie unspoiled and resting until the time comes to plant.  May you dream the dreams of your people and may you commune with your beloved dead in peace.

 

 

Photo by Paige Cody on Unsplash

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finding space to be me

I’ve been thinking a lot about community and what that looks like for someone like me who seldom feels at home in groups of people.  For a time in my life, I found community in various fandoms, but as time progressed, they became contentious and clicky and I backed away.

For a time, I found community in the Pagan community, which here in the SF Bay area is vibrant and diverse and can be amazing.  However, here too there is division and in-fighting, and I’ve backed off in recent years.

My current attempt at giving to community is within the LGBTQA+ space, but I find myself limiting my interaction to what I do for the Pride organization, and I don’t go out seeking friends within the community, and I don’t really engage in any events or discussions.  I guess, in a way, I give community, but don’t receive it in return.

Even among fellow authors and editors, I tend to feel unseen, unnoticed, and markedly of different opinions than many, so I feel as though here too is a community that I belong in, but do not belong to.

Mostly, I’m okay with that.  I’m better on my own in most things.  I have a number of very good friends that I can spend time with and not feel as though I’ve burned my candle down to nothing, not feel as though I give and give and get nothing in return.

Having just spent two weeks with one such friend, my socialization/support needs are well met and community feels more like work than it is worth.  I have a cautious toe dipping back into fandom having found a Star Wars fandom group for geeky women and I see the enthusiasm and love others have, and I miss sharing that.  I’ve kept my geeky joy for just my friends who share it for a long time.

Not sure yet how deep I’ll wade into it again, for now it’s mostly toe dipping, but my recent trip to Disney and Galaxy’s Edge has reignited my love of all things Star Wars, so we’ll see.

In the meantime, I have a day job to get busy on, and so much to do!  I wish you good coffee and random acts of kindness today, Readers!

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Beltane blessings

Today is the first day of May.  May Day.  Beltane.  It is a holy day of promise for the future, a day of planting seeds for the harvest to come.

This is a day that celebrates spring, when the youngest flowers bloom and the air is filled with the light fragrance that whispers of the summer that is just around the corner.

And yes, it is a day closely associated with fertility.  In some Pagan traditions it is celebrated with bawdy tales of trysts in the woods between willing partners, or with drinking and feasting and ritualized representation of the sex act.

All of that is to remind us that this is the time when Mother Earth is her most fertile, when she is waiting for us to run our plow into her and deposit our seed into her soil, so that she may nurture and grow it to provide for our sustenance in the long months of winter.

So, blessings you, Readers, if you celebrate…and if you don’t.  Happy Wednesday either way!  May your planting find fertile ground so that the harvest is plentiful!

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happy spring?

It’s another rainy, rainy day here in San Francisco.  Just walking from BART to the office has my legs soaked from the knees down.

Don’t get me wrong, I love the rain, and gods know we needed it, but after a solid month of the stuff, I find myself craving the sun.  My cats are also completely over the rain.  This morning, instead of getting up with me, they sat on the bed staring at the pet door.

The streets are turning into rivers and the ground everywhere is just saturated.  I am sure all of the plants are thrilled that we have escaped drought status, but I think I am quite over the rain at this point.

Enough of that, however.  Today is Ostara on the Pagan calendar, the spring equinox.  Today is the tipping point that dumps us out of winter and onward toward summer.  From here out the days start to get longer, at least until midsummer.

It is a time to plant intentions, to begin new things.  Get those seeds in some dirt and let’s grow something profound!

Of course, it’s also Wednesday, so here I am in the office like a good worker drone.  Lots to do, coffee to consume, etc, etc…

How about you, Readers?  What are you looking to grow this season?

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cabin fever

About this time of year, I start to itch for travel.  I want a weekend away, or a road trip or an adventure. It’s the same every year.  The middle of February brings with it a need to do something, anything, as long as it is away from here.

For a lot of years, I went to a Pagan convention in San Jose, CA on President’s day weekend, and that scratched the itch pretty successfully.  The last few years though, that convention has become too much for me.  I’m thrilled that they’ve grown so much, but at the same time, it is really hard for me to cope with that many people for four days.

So this President’s Day weekend, I’m here at home, still itching to go somewhere, do something.  Which is difficult when you are purposefully not spending money and working hard to put money aside for planned holidays in the fall.

I’d love to sit on a beach and watch the sun set…and rise again…or sit beside a roaring fire while the snow falls outside the cabin.

So for today I’m going to focus on giving myself a “me” day.  I have an appointment today to have my hair colored and trimmed, and when I get back, I’ll maybe have a nice soak in the tub and such, while reminding myself of the shenanigans I have planned in September in LA and the convention in October in Denver.

What about you, Readers?  Has cabin fever set in?  How do you deal with it?

Happy Saturday!  I’m off to enjoy this cup of coffee and see about getting some words down on paper.

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shining lights and quiet nights

We’re less than a week out from Christmas, which hardly seems possible.  I think I maybe finally found the knack of not going overboard on spending for my family this year.  I’m a gifter.  I like to give gifts.

For a lot of people, this time of year can be difficult.  The days are short. The nights are long.  We try to compensate with lights.  We put them on our trees, we put them on our house.  For me, it’s candles.  I love to fill my living room with candles during the holiday season.

It’s a form of what we call “sympathetic magic,” the act of calling something to you by imitation.  What we’re longing for is the sun, so we light our lives up with artificial light to tempt it to return.

The only thing I like better than candles lit against the cold dark of winter, is the cold dark of winter itself.  The winter solstice is Friday, the day of the longest night.  Every day after that the days will grow slowly longer and the wheel will turn, spring will come.  There will be candles in the early evening, but before I go to bed, I will put them all out and spend some time alone in that quiet that only comes in the dark.

It’s a good time to do a self-inventory, to judge your progress against goals, to adjust your attitude toward yourself and others.  Preparation, for you to return with the sun and ready yourself for the growth to come.

At least, that’s my solstice tradition.  Followed on Christmas with family time, food and gift giving.  I hope that however you celebrate, and whatever you celebrate, that this season of good will finds you happy, healthy and hopeful, Readers.

I am more grateful for all of you than you will ever know.

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samhain and the dead

As I am writing this, I am looking at tomorrow’s holiday with a new perspective of sorts.  I’ve always loved Halloween, from my earliest memory.  It was a fun holiday, a chance to become something besides your self, and of course, there was all the candy!

As a new Pagan many years ago it took on new meaning.  I celebrated Samhain as I imagine a lot of new Pagans do.  I did a little research, I borrowed traditions from paths that seemed to get it right, and I threw myself into celebrating this holiday of the dead.

But what I didn’t really have, or understand, was any real connections to my “beloved dead” or my “ancestors”…I never really had a strong sense of family connections beyond my immediate family and they’re immediate family (mother, father, siblings…aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents).  I had never known my mother’s father and at the time I chose my Pagan path, the only people in my life who had died were my father’s mother and a childhood friend.

Still, I had a strong draw toward honoring the dead.  My love of old cemeteries also goes back to my childhood and my interest in the spirit world was part of what drew me to Paganism to begin with.

Over the last few years, my religious path has changed some…nothing drastic, but if your faith doesn’t grow with you as you grow then your faith can die.  I found myself digging into my family tree, into the history of me as it were, and discovered a feeling of connection with several ancestors that I had never known.

Two years ago, I attended a class in bone reading as divination.  It had a strong emphasis on calling on the beloved dead to assist.  It was after that class that I set up a small altar with pictures of those ancestors, and in the two years since I have added images of those who have passed more recently, not necessarily family of my blood, but family of my heart.

This Samhain, after I go to work in my Raven costume, I will spend an evening in quiet contemplation and while I can’t really have a bonfire like I’d like, I will light as many candles as I deem safe and invite those beloved dead to visit.  I may even throw some bones and see if they speak to me.

Whether you celebrate Halloween, Samhain or Dia de los Muertos, may your day be filled with blessings and sweet things.

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the first harvest

It’s hard to fathom that we are here at the first of August.  For those who follow various Pagan religions, today is the First Harvest, known by various names in various traditions, with different ways of marking the holiday.

Despite their differences, most of them are ways of celebrating the first fruits of the planting done in the spring, and largely we are talking about grains; wheat, corn, etc.

In times past I might have baked bread on the first of August to share with friends, but this year it’s just plain too hot in my little kitchen!  Although, I have to admit, it’s been hotter where I live than it is right now.  I anticipate there are still some warm days ahead too.

There may be a little harvesting though, at least in the area of writing.  I have a weekend in which I don’t have to run out to Stockton to help my mother, so I am anticipating that some words will happen!

I am also starting to gear up for my trip in September!  This weekend I am doing a thorough cleaning and inventory of my camera equipment so I can decide what all I am taking with me.  When I travel, I try to post to my travel blog (when I can get internet anyway), which you can find here.

I will also be posting pics to my instagram account, and either of my Facebook Pages: My Author Page or my Photography Page.

On that note, I should get to the day job, and the cup of Death Wish Coffee sitting there seducing me.  May your harvest be plentiful, Readers!

 

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yuletide musings

It is still pretty early here in California.  I’m in the office of my day job, a job I thoroughly enjoy.  The sun is casting golden beams of light in through the blinds and it’s hard to imagine that it is actually December. The mornings have been cold, but by noon most days it’s back to t-shirt weather.

The holiday season is always a bit crazy, and being a Pagan in a psuedo-Judeo/Christian society can be strange.  Here in America, everyone seems to just default to Christmas.  If you live here you MUST celebrate Christmas, and if you don’t, you tip their world over.

It isn’t even the really devout Christians that get the most weirded out all the time.  I mean, sure, they’re the ones who started this idea that there is some sort of war on Christmas, but I’ve gotten the most flack when I talk about how Christmas to me is a secular, family holiday, much like Thanksgiving, only with presents.

I don’t really decorate for Yule or Christmas.  I live alone and it seems silly to me to spend a weekend putting stuff up, then take a weekend pulling it down and storing it when I’m the only one to see it.

That isn’t to say that all the years of my life as a Christian, and all of those Christmas traditions have gone away.  One of my favorite memories of those times was Christmas Eve candlelight service.  All those candles, lit one by one, passing the flame…the sanctuary lit up like daylight, only the light was softer and warmer than the sun ever seemed to be in winter.  We lit candles at home on Christmas Eve long after we stopped attending that church.

Today I light candles a little earlier.  On Yule I like to light my entire living room with candlelight.  It is said that candles at Yule are what we call sympathetic magic…we are reminding the sun that we need it to return, and welcoming him as he is born anew.

There is a feeling of hope that permeates these winter holidays, whether you celebrate the birth of the sun or the birth of your God, whether you ignore all that and give gifts of love to your family…there is hope.

That is something that can be hard to see.  It’s there, if you look.  Just light a candle.  Even one candle can dispel the darkness for a time.