Katrina Messenger tagged me for the Passion Quilt meme.
The rules of the meme are thus:
We are All Connected; Care for One Another
I hadn’t planned on doing anything for Beltane this year. I’m a thousand miles away from the people I celebrate with, and we don’t usually celebrate Beltane. Instead, I went to the beach to walk in the water, feel the breeze and sun on my skin, and listen to the surf and shore birds.
Several years ago, I struggled with why Samhain resonated with my being, while Beltane basically left me cold. At that time, I reframed Beltane from “sex in the woods” (not that there’s anything wrong with that) to a mirrored relationship with Samhain that sung to my soul.
At Samhain, we look to the past (our Ancestors) and bring their wisdom into the present. We look into the face of the certainty of death and the uncertainty of the beyond. At Beltane, we look to the certainty of life and the uncertainty of the future. We take the risks to move consciously forward into our future.
Last year, I hosted a maypole working that focused on embodying the elements of creation and weaving the magic of manifestation. What I learned at the Center, holding the pole so it would not topple as it was pulled in different direction, was that we hold in our hands the power of awareness, within our heart the yearning for balance, and within our Will the ability to set and keep to a course of action.
The beach was almost empty; the tide was rising; and the sand was soft beneath my feet. The Beatles’ song “Strawberry Fields” was looping in my internal radio. I found unbroken shell in the sand. At some point, all the sensations from sea, sand, and sun welled up around me, and I just had to do ritual.
Just beyond the upper reach of the waves, I inscribed a three-circuit labyrinth in the damp sand. I breathed to ground and center myself before stepping in. As I walked the labyrinth, I asked myself, “What do you weave into your life?” When I reached the center, I began to turn to face each direction “Earth Air Fire Water Spirit” became “Yod Heh Shin Vau Heh” as I called in the elements of creation into the center of my soul. I spoke words of creation out to each of the directions and then I settled down in the center to enter a light trance as I sang to and watched the waves.
“What do you weave into your life?” At Beltane, I am always reminded that I am an agent can act effectively in this world. It is my birthright and my duty to be who and what I am — a co-creator with the Great Divine, God Herself, the Heart of the Universe. Rather than lie back and let myself be thrown this way and that by life, I can pick myself up and weave together the threads of existence to create opportunities and take advantage of them. I can help myself and others. I am not helpless and passive. While sometimes we need to just “be,” there are other times when we need to “do.” And at Beltane, I remember that I have the right to be and the power to do — all to take the risk of stepping fully, consciously, and intentionally into my future.
To mark this remembering, I inscribed a pentacle in the sand at the center of the labyrinth and sealed the experience into my body. Then I walk out and away back into ordinary time and space.
The body of my maternal grandmother, Jane Ellen Overall, died this last week on Wednesday, April 16, 10:03pm, at the age of 82.
I was taught to believe that her spirit lives on and is now reunited with her husband, my grandfather, who passed away over twenty years ago. On some level, I want to believe that. It would have made her happy.
On another level, I have to admit that I don’t know, and may never know, if our spirits continue, shaped by our physical lives and personality, after our bodies die.
I know what I don’t believe — in a heaven of eternal reward and a hell of eternal punishment. They don’t fit with my concept of the Ultimate nor with my experience of life. If life is a combination of a myriad of experiences, then I would expect the afterlife, or future lives, or whatever if there is anything, to be a similar combination. I suspect that anything eternally without change would be numbing after a while. And the universe is too varied for that.
Perhaps when we die, we get what we expect — a kind of mentally constructed reality that lasts as long as we need it to. That might be nice, or not, depending on what one expects consciously and unconsciously.
Perhaps when we die, the part of us that is not physical regains its full non-physical awareness. Perhaps there are things that can only be experienced and perceived within our human form, and things that can only be experienced and perceived in non-physical existence. One is not better than the other — just different.
All of this assumes that there is a non-physical, or spiritual, or energetic, part of us that survives after the physical body dies. For the most part, I do believe that. But there is a niggling uncertainty that I have struggled to live with. Perhaps we all do.
Because really, truthfully, we do not know.
But because it was her truth, and her dream, I wish my grandparents happiness together again in each other’s arms.
My dear friend Art Drauglis is an accomplished woodworker who builds fun, funky furniture, such as the “Monster Cabinet” shown here. Today he was featured in DC’s Daily Candy. Go check him out! Please consider him if you are in the market for custom hand-worked furniture, and recommend him to your friends.
I have been hearing bird song around my house over the last week. Strange in winter, although our winters have been rather warm the last few years.
Last week, I noticed this bird’s nest in the crape myrtle just outside my front door. Surely, it’s been there a while. I am hoping that it will be inhabited this spring.
An email I received from this blog has sparked my thinking. A young person asks about the significance of signs found in the natural world.
I was looking out from a bedroom window and saw some ravens. For some reason, I counted them, and there were nine. Again for some reason, I felt that this was
significant. I have just googled nine Ravens and found myself here. Is it
significant?
From my perspective, the significance of anything in our lives lies in what it inspires or motivates us to do, be, or think. If seeing nine ravens inspired someone to google and that person found inspiration in reading my web site, then it was significant for that person in that moment, and sparked me to think about this topic more and now write about it. So, now it has some impact on my life as well.
Many of us are constantly asking for a “sign.” How many times have I stood at the metaphysical crossroads and begged for a sign from the gods! Just give me a sign that which way to go. Give me a sign that the world is a beautiful and good place. Give me a sign that there is hope in the darkness.
These signs or messages are all around us, if you are in the right frame of mind and spirit, if we are open, if we really need a sign. Synchronicities do happen. For example, lately orange cats have been on my mind, or I should say I’ve been obsessed with them. The other night I was driving down a dark road and thought that I should turn my high beams on. Seconds later, an orange cat streaked across the road. I was able to see it in time to brake and avoid hitting it because I had my high beam lights on. Does this mean anything beyond I was able to save a kitty’s life? I don’t know, but I do know that I would have felt devastated to hit an orange kitty (or for that matter, any cat).
As the saying goes, sometimes a cigar is just a cigar. But at other times, it can be a symbol for a penis, a token of respect, an offering to the orishas, a reminder of some long forgotten experience, or all of the above. Paying attention to the world around us allows messages from the Deeper Self (the divine part of our self) and Younger Self (the unconscious) to get through to our Talking Self (our conscious, waking self). Deeper self and Younger self take advantage of the synchronicities in the world around us and the mental and emotional connections that we already have built up to make themselves heard by Talking Self. A chance encounter with a stranger. Seeing different books about the same topic repeatedly in very different contexts. Noticing something odd in nature and googling it because it piqued your interest.
Sounds like a sign to me. But I have no idea what it means…
The other night I had a lot on my mind as I tried to figure out how to react to a stressful situation in my life. I was trying to figure out what I should do, what was my responsibility, what was the right way for me to act in the world, how to best respond, what my goals were in the situation, etc. After several restless hours, I finally drifted to sleep.
In the morning, I awoke with a dream image — a handheld chalk slate that had been written and erased before the word TRUTH was scribed. I had to act as the truth of my core prompted, which for me is one of listening, witnessing, asking questions in such a way to make people reflect, connecting, and expressing what is of value of the heart of a situation.
Mine is not always the most active role, and it is often not a role of telling, but of listening and reflecting back to others, and of finding the places where extremes can find their balance, hopefully harmoniously. Sometimes I am successful; sometimes not.
On a side note: I’ve been very “Hod”ish in my studies recently. “Truth” on a chalk board seemed a fitting message.
Just not necessarily in the way you thought you would.
Last night I asked Simbi Dlo for help in understanding the patterns beneath the surface, the patterns within the strange and wonderful things that tend to happen in life when you are paying attention. For the last week, I have been trying to do what my teacher has told me — to look at my life through my dreamtime lens, to interpret happenings around me shamanically, rather than literally or dismissively.
So, I asked for Simbi to guide my journey in not only noticing the signs and patterns but understanding them as well.
This morning I decided to wear a blown glass pendant I was recently given. This pendant reminds me of a water snake, and I have placed it on my altar next to the glass of water and blue candle I have for Simbi. I have only worn this pendant two other times, and I love it. At the metro station where I transfer trains (a transitional place, perhaps?), the necklace came apart and the pendant fell to the ground, breaking. I was stunned and spent a few minutes trying to determine if the two pieces I found easily could be fit together and glued.
No. They didn’t fit. I took a deep breath and really looked at the pieces and remembered the flowing form of the pendant before it broke. I understood that there should be a large U-shaped piece. So, I began looking at the train platform — very carefully. I’m sure I looked like a crazy person just staring at the ground and walking in tight circles around where the pendant landed.
After about 15 minutes of quietly freaking out, I decided to get on the train but keep my eyes peeled on the platform. Maybe by walking away and releasing, I would find it. Sure enough, just as the train pulled away I spied a largish glint about 15 feet away from where I had been standing. But was it the missing piece? I couldn’t rationally tell.
And I was now 30 minutes late for work.
Naturally, I went to the next station, waited for the next train going the opposite direction, and went back. I told Simbi that if the piece was still there, if indeed that was the missing piece, I would officially dedicate the pendant to him and wear it during his work — going into the unconscious depths, looking for the patterns under the surface, and bringing them up again. I stepped off the train, walked right up to where I saw the glint, bent over, and picked up the missing piece. Without missing a beat, I continued across the platform to the waiting train going in my original direction.
At work, I checked the three pieces to see if they fit. They do, with only one chip missing from the back. I have wrapped them in tissue and will glue them together tonight at home. This pendent is now dedicated to Simbi Dlo, and I am only wearing it with intent when I am working with him directly.
Yeah, I get it. Quite effective, really, Simbi Dlo. Ashe and blessed be.
The meaning of the Hebrew word Hod is Glory, and this suggests at once to the mind that in this, the first Sphere in which forms are definitely organized, the radiance of the Primordial is shown forth to human consciousness. Physicists tell us that light is only rendered visible as blue sky owing to its reflection from the particles of dust in the atmosphere. Absolutely dustless atmosphere is absolutely dark atmosphere. And so it is in the metaphysics of the Tree. The glory of God can only shine forth in manifestation when there are forms to manifest it.*
I stood at the train station in the early morning. Looking up into the formless gray sky, I saw nothing. As I lowered my gaze to the horizon, the trees, and the people around me, I could clearly see the snow falling around me. Against the backdrop of nothing, I see nothing. The forms of the world around me provided the necessary background against which I could see this glorious dance of whiteness and air.
I am saturated in Hod right now. I am reviewing concepts initially encountered and not quite understood years ago. I am delving into Hermetic qabalah, symbology, and what I consider “geek” astrology. My personal practice is taking on ceremonial overtones. As my teacher tells me, I am building the necessary vocabulary for the experiences I will have on the next sphere of Netzach, the sphere of raw potential and creativity.
I am building cognitive networks and nets of symbols and correspondences. Disparate things that I am reading or snatches of conversation heard are beginning to click in new ways, as I see for the first time for myself what certain symbols stand for certain concepts. The lightbulbs are turning on. And I am excited.
And then there is the challenge of defining my terms and explaining what I am doing and why, so that people without the shorthand references will understand as much as possible. We are doing a working at Becoming’s monthly circle this Sunday which rests on some “geek” astrological references that I didn’t get without a few hours of research. But once I did, WOW! So, I need to find the forms — the words and ritual actions — that will allow the emotion to easily flow through into the working and make it strong.
The energy around me is almost crackling. Can you hear it?
*From Dion Fortune’s Mystical Qabalah
This morning as I was dressing, I looked in the mirror at the exact wrong angle. Ugh! I am disgustingly fat, I thought to myself. Immediately, that other voice in my head said, That doesn’t help. I don’t know that I can love my body right now, but at least I can be thankful for the things it does for me. Maybe we can work ourselves up to love.
I give thanks to my feet, which plant me securely to the earth and give me balance.
I give thanks to my legs, which support me and move me around.
I give thanks to my genitals, which give me such pleasure.
I give thanks to my bladder and colon, which eliminate waste I don’t need.
I give thanks to my digestive system, which process food into energy.
I give thanks to my lungs, which take in air.
I give thanks to my heart, which strongly pumps my blood through my body.
I give thanks to my breasts, which cushion my husband’s head in sleep.
I give thanks to my arms, which reach out to interact with the world.
I give thanks to my hands and fingers, with which I create and manifest.
I give thanks to my shoulders, which bear many burdens.
I give thanks to my spine, which holds me upright.
I give thanks to my throat, which allows me to speak.
I give thanks to my mouth, tongue, and teeth, which eat the foods I need and makes them taste good.
I give thanks to my ears, nose, and eyes, which allow me to take in information about the world.
I give thanks to my brain, which thinks and remembers and feels.
I give thanks for my skin, which protects me from harm.
I give thanks to my bones, which support me and give me structure.
I give thanks to my face, which is so expressive.
I give thanks to my hair, which is full and healthy.
I give thanks to my entire body, through which I live, move, act, and express myself in this world around me.
Blessed be my body.
