Water Dragon

It was New Year's Day (Nov. 1), and I decided to bring the animal totem cards I use to work.  My office mate, I thought, would enjoy pulling a card to get in touch with the energies of the new year.

As often happens while driving, various thoughts rose to my awareness.  On this day, though, they were painful memories of a very difficult time in my adolescence.  I was flooded with thoughts of anger, pain, hostility, ineffectiveness and incredibly difficult relationships.  I wondered where they were coming from--was Samhain somehow bringing these dark times to my foreground, and what was I meant to learn from them?

I got to work and was able to shake off most of the sadness and discomfort that had clung to me in the car.  I allowed myself the distractions of work and my office mate.  I left the animal totem cards for later in the day.

When I had a few quiet moments, I did indeed spread the cards out and draw.

Water Dragon.

I read from the book:  A water dragon totem brings memories and wishes, perhaps long hidden, to the surface.  By facing painful past experiences, we can achieve a sense of peace and balance in our lives.  This totem gives us courage and compassion in this challenge.

Samhain

As part of rediscovering my path this year, I didn't want to do a typical Samhain ritual.  I would typically get in touch with darker energies or ancestral energies, but having just gotten back in touch with any energies, this didn't seem the time to delve deeply into the dark.  Also, my ancestral energies are not really my go-to energies.  I am more of an elemental girl, and then animal totems.  I didn't know my family well, and what I did know, well, let's just say, we take the good with the bad when it comes to families.

So this Samhain, my goal was to get in touch with magical energies in general, and I invited friends to participate.

We set the Ritual space in my living room, in front of my hearth.  I cleared the hearth and mantle of their usual knickknacks, and thinking of a directional arrow to lead energies toward us, I set up a series of pillar candles atop large, standing candle holders.  I had enough of them to make a "V," with the tallest being a short pillar on each end of the mantle, and then five or six others on each side, ending with a white taper in a glass, lotus-shaped holder on the floor. 

We cast Circle and called Quarters, with our bodies forming a circle that was broken by the "V," with the white candle in the center of the circle.  Then we each lit a candle according to the energies we sought, starting with the tallest.  Feminine energies were represented by candles on the left and more masculine energies by candles on the right.  Those of you who Ritual often will not be surprised to learn it worked out just right, and I, as the hostess, lit the final candle to represent our larger intention and draw the energies forth.

We said a few words in closing, released the Quarters, and opened the Circle again.

Blessed Samhain.

Stag

I lay the cards out in front of me, aware that I had promised myself to pull a card every once in a while.  My renewed spiritual path is cooking along, with a change in my focus, more meditation, more chanting, more Ritual, more spiritual work.  I feel empowered to follow through.  It feels good.

So I lay the cards out in front of me, felt the tension building in my left hand, felt the heat from the cards rise up to the center of my palm.  Shifted a little to test the exact spot of the energy, felt the card under my ring finger, bent my wrist ever so slightly and slid the card--THE card--out from the pile.

Stag.

A quick review of Stag energies brought these words to mind--renewal, connectedness, psychic power, strength, guidance.  Sounds like a perfect connection to my current work.

As sometimes happens, I back-burnered the idea for the rest of the day.  Work, yadda yadda.

I was in my living room later that afternoon when I looked outside at the sound of children playing in the street.  Imagine my surprise to see four deer in my front yard!  This is unusual in our neighborhood--I live in the suburbs of a larger city, but within the city limits.  For a suburban subdivision, we have fairly generous woods weaving between the backyard fences of our homes, providing watershed areas as well as visual and sound barriers.  Deer often traverse the area through the woods, but these guys were in the front, on the street, at 3:00 in the afternoon.  Even more amazing, people were walking in the street behind them and children were playing, laughing, squealing.  The deer--three females and a youngish male--stood quietly, comfortably in my yard.  The females went to eating, but the male stopped, stood protectively, watching out over the scene.  Ready, I suppose, to sound the alarm.

And then he saw me watching through the window.  His eyes locked to mine.  He stood.  Not stressed, not particularly tense (for a deer, who are always tense), and stared.  Our eyes connected.  He stared.  I stared.  The sensation was of peace, connectedness, strength, and a total lack of anxiety.  The message to me was clear, "The path is yours for the walking, and it will lead only to beauty and peace."


(Although I'm posting this in November, it was written in the middle of October.)