Thoughts on New Year

So we have just celebrated Yule.  I was married on Yule a year ago, so now my Yule celebrations will also be anniversary celebrations.  Although I was excited to marry during the magical time of renewal, I did not think about how my anniversary celebrations would conflict with celebrating Yule with my favorite celebrants.  I shall have to think this through differently next year!

So I missed having a Yule-specific experience because I was busily having an incredible get-away weekend with my husband, who planned and executed the whole thing.  What a delight!

On the way home, we stopped at our Unitarian congregation for their Yule service, and the focus of the meditation there was to consider what creative projects we would embark on as the sun's light returns.  Some sought more balance, others healthier living.  And as I listened to my friends consider their upcoming efforts, I was, of course, reminded of new year's resolutions, and in turn, of my struggle to balance the Samhain celebration of new year with those who celebrate the new year at Yule.

So for me, Samhain is new year's.  In the past we had huge, blow-out parties, and "Happy New Year" rang out frequently.  I gladly adopted the new year tradition of many modern Pagans, and although my Samhains are far more low-key now, the sense that we are ending the year comes naturally with the feelings of Samhain, the close of what are often powerful seasons of summer and harvest. 

However, Yule, and certainly the planning of projects and gearing up for the returning light, also feel like a new year's celebration.  I have considered for many years now that perhaps I need to change my perspective and celebrate the new year at Yule, as I am aware some folks do. 

But this year I had a different realization.  While my Samhain Rituals are marking the close of the old year, I do not feel the opening of the next year until Yule.  Perhaps this is something obvious to many people already practicing the old ways, but why must we close one year and open the next immediately?  I don't close a day and open the next without a great sleep in between.  I don't finish a meal and immediately start the next.  I don't finish a project and turn to start the next without taking time to enjoy and savor what has been accomplished.

So why was I holding on to this expectation that the close of one year would be immediately followed by the opening of the next?

For me, now, Samhain will be the closing of the year.  Entering a sleep.  I am realizing how obvious this sounds as I type it, but it is quite a realization for me.  And then I will mark the opening of the next year at Yule.  The weeks that pass in between--well, they are already focused on the American holiday season.  Thanksgiving and Christmas preparations take a lot of my time and energy, and I enjoy the pause in the year that the holidays impose.  We made a point of getting the most out of the holidays this year, with a trip to Old Salem (a Moravian community steeped in American history that celebrates an old-fashioned Christmas tradition throughout December), many trips around town to soak up the Christmas lights, home-made Christmas cards, and catching The Snow Queen at a local theater as part of our anniversary celebrations. 

I believe many people feel and act different during the holiday season--we eat more, spend more, and indulge more.  What a wonderful metaphor of the day cycle applied to the year-- the weeks between Samhain and Yule as a dream state, complete (in my case) with the magical thought that calories won't make me heavier, and my bank account is endless.  I love the idea of a pause between Samhain and Yule, a chance to take a break between harvest and planting, to simply enjoy all there is. 

In considering this essay, I found another article along the same lines, and the author decided that celebrating new beginnings throughout the Wheel of the Year worked for her.  She felt the rhythm of the festivals and each new beginning they represented, and she realized we don't have to be limited to one "new year" celebration.  I love this idea as well, but for me, I like the import that the new year brings.  It has a weightiness to it.  So much so, that it needs two days--one for closing, and one for opening.  I look forward to this new perspective, and I will keep you posted as I let it simmer a bit.  In the meantime,

Blessed Yule!!

Samhain 2013

Samhain is one of those festivals that I prefer to celebrate on the actual day (as opposed to the nearest weekend).  But I also love Halloween, and it's hard to do both.  For years I tried to celebrate Halloween and enjoy the children, and then Ritual afterwards, but it was just too much.

So this year, we hosted friends for Samhain on Saturday, and then we will celebrate Halloween on Thursday.  At the beginning of the month, we loaded the yard with pumpkin lights, as well as strings of purple and orange lights. We added skulls strewn about the yard, a broom parking lot, giant spiders, and ghouls in the trees.  We draped black crepe fabric over the porch rails and hung a funky "shroud fabric" in the trees.  On the door, we have a grape vine wreath painted black and decorated with skulls and shiny bats.

In the invitation for the Ritual, we asked people to come ready to talk about their ancestors and the ancestral energies they want to get in touch with.  We prepared the space, setting the altar in the east, where the grounding Earth energies would be their highest.  We covered the table with a black cloth, and set the altar with all black tools--Air was a blown-glass ball that is threaded with black on the inside; Fire was an oil lamp I had made with a vase full of black marbles and filled with lamp oil, with a wick up the center; Water was a black-stemmed wine glass filled with rain water; and Earth was a large, black fossil stone we had collected during a trip to the mountains. Two black taper candles stood near the center, and I scattered black stones about the altar for added Earth energies and some visual texture.  We placed a black wooden skull, and a black iron star as well.  The center held a glass and metal sculpture that creates a three-dimensional, many-pointed star.

We also made an ancestor altar, again with a black cloth.  I placed black taper candles--one for each participant (11 this evening)--in a half circle around the back edge of the altar.  Over the years we have collected many, many glass candle holders in various heights and sizes, so all the black tapers were of different heights.  In the center was a low glass skull candle holder and a single candle, which we lit before guests arrived.  I also placed a scrying mirror on the table.  As people came in, we placed ancestral memory items on the table, with items from the mother's side of the family on the left, and the father's side on the right.

We gathered and first simply met to talk about our experiences with ancestral energies.  We ate and drank--I had made mulled cider, taking care to include apple slices cut with the stars showing--and we chatted casually at first.  Once we were ready to start really focusing the conversation, we took a few moments to cast a protective circle, given the thinned veils and the potential to invite unwanted energies.

We took special care with the safety of the Circle for this Ritual, and I believe any writing about Samhain should include a nod to spiritual safety. Those who are vulnerable should take extra care, as one of our friends did, when she chose not to use the mirror that night.  For those like me who are not particularly open to these energies, choosing this time of year may help in finding what you seek.  But for those like my friend who is very open, scrying would be safest when the veils are not so thin. If you don't need the thin veils to be successful, the safer choice is to wait.  Remember, you should always feel in control of your own situation. For that matter, if you are practicing with others, you should never feel pressured to engage in a level you are not comfortable with.

We then spoke on our experiences learning about our families and ancestors.  Some spoke in general terms of their ethnic heritage, others spoke of family traditions, and others of family members lost.  Some chose not to speak, and this was honored, of course.  Then, when the timing was right, we called Quarters and lit the main altar.  Then we each in turn went to the ancestor altar and lit a black taper, and those who wanted to had a chance to experience the scrying mirror, a first for several in the group.

I later received news from several participants that they had their own individual experiences after leaving our home, and it occurred to me how much of a spiritual practice really is a solitary experience, even for those who Ritual in a group.  So we come together for structure, direction, motivation, and social contact, but in the end, the spiritual experience itself is very personal and individual.

By the end of the Ritual, we had many black candles glowing, and we knew each other better.  We have been working together for nearly a year, and I hope we are developing strong, intimate ties.

Blessed be!

Public service announcement

I have been thinking lately about the various things that tie our community together. We live in an amazing age, when distance is nearly inconsequential, and we can connect really anywhere. Don't worry, this is not yet another blogger going on about social networking. We're all on Facebook or we're not. Whatever. We get it.

And while I love so very much the connections I have with individuals, I have been thinking specifically about the connections we have to the community as a whole. The sense that we are a culture of our own. I have been thinking about things like music and drumming and street festivals. How word of mouth is still word of mouth, in spite of all the internet options to talk and discuss, I still find many of my connections in traditional ways. So here is something I have found that helps me feel connected to a larger community. In case you're interested...

Spiral Rhythm has a new CD out called Rise Up, available on iTunes. I love Spiral Rhythm for making me feel like I'm connected to something bigger. Their songs soothe me and bring me right to a spiritual place. Some are drum-driven chants that roll through your blood and get you right in synch with the energy in the air. Others are more melodic and gentle. What I particularly love is the vocabulary of paganism that let's you feel at home and included in our somewhat private language. To me they have songs to match the seasons--their song "Bringing Change," to me sounds like a song perfect for the Yule season. And "Twilight Wood" feels like a Mabon song. Other songs, like "The Faith Inside," are just great sing-along tunes that can get you through difficult times. The whole album -- indeed, for me, the whole existence of Spiral Rhythm -- reinforces my beliefs and helps me feel connected. Listening to them reminds me I don't have to make my spiritual path alone.

Oh, and one more thing--even though I said this wouldn't be about Facebook, if you ARE on Facebook you should check out Moms on Brooms. She is awesome and for me has the right blend of spirituality and playfulness for a public page, with a mix of pop culture icons and truly spiritual offerings.

Ok. That is my public service announcement for today. Carry on...

Mabon

You may remember that it was a year ago that I began this recommitment to the Craft. A friend and I -- she had been similarly disconnected from her own practice -- had a ritual in the yard, expressing our gratitude for all we had accomplished in the light times, honoring the change toward the dark times. This year I made a similar plan, and invited the usual crew.   I had planned to have a fire outside, and therefore had no altar set up. Unfortunately we had another night of rain. This is probably the rainiest year in a very long time in North Carolina, and as I prepared for this ritual, I read over this very blog. A surprising number of our rituals this year have been affected by rain. And sure enough, Mabon would be no different.

 So we moved it all inside, and prepared the fireplace for a fire.I had timed us so we would be at the height of the ritual at 7:15, when the sun set. We gathered briefly, and then formed the Circle in the room, leaving the space by the hearth open. We called Quarters simply, and I adapted the words of the Spiral Rhythm song, "Bringing Change," to highlight the Wheel's turn. Once the Quarters were called, we lit the fire.

I had prepared the space with paper and pens for everyone, and once the Quarters were called, we sat and wrote out a list of what we had each accomplished in recent months. A harvesting of sorts--the intentional and careful assessment of all we had done. We then took turns burning our lists in the fire, sending our gratitude and accomplishments into the spirit worlds, and building on those energies to continue blessing us.

I had placed a cauldron on the hearth with rubbing alcohol in it, and I lit a blue flame to represent the moon's light. We talked about our experiences and our personal lists while both the sun's fire and the moon's fire burned.

As we enter the dark times, I thought the animal oracle cards would add to the ritual. So we each pulled a card from the deck and were instructed to learn more about the animal in the coming weeks. 

I pulled Goose, which comes to us to navigate difficult times. At the time of the ritual, I had no idea what that meant. But Goose also brings a focus to our marital relationships. I had assumed this was the message for me because my marriage has been amazing lately. I made sure to honor that in my ritual as well. It is a couple weeks later as I write this, and I have been laid off from my job. Or at least given notice of the lay-off in a few months. And my husband has been remarkably supportive. In ways I wouldn't have even thought to ask for. The Goose energies are very much here with us--navigating difficult experiences together.

The rest of the ritual passed with the closing of the Circle and a light feast. As is the case with good friends who gather for ritual, we then talked for a long time. I love the feeling of talking late in to the evening with people you love and with whom you have an intimate, spiritual connection. Our household is preparing for Halloween and Samhain. I look forward to discovering what the Universe has in mind for our Samhain ritual...

Preparing for Beltaine

I met my husband at a Beltaine celebration.  He was in charge of lighting the fire, and I wasn't in the mood for the woman talk inside, so I hung outside with the boys who were charged with tending the fire in preparation for the Ritual.

We had a very funny conversation about all the things that have changed in the last 20 years and what it would be like for a modern-day Rip van Winkle.  If you had never heard it before, what would the phrase "paper or plastic?" mean to you?  Even better, what about "debit or credit?"  Most people say it so fast, you can't even parse out the words.

What a perfect Beltaine story, is it not?  Meeting your future husband?  It had been one of my favorite festivals even before then--I mean, who doesn't love a Ritual all about sex and fertility?  But now it is even closer to my heart.

So as part of my year of re-dedication, Beltaine is a festival I want to be extra beautiful.  I am hoping to celebrate outside, but North Carolina is experiencing a remarkably wet year, and it may well rain.  But we will make that ok!

Some of my group of celebrants are struggling with personal setbacks. Some are celebrating the Wheel of Fortune's blessings.  My hope is to develop a Ritual that will work for both.

I once read that people extinguished fires the sunset before Beltaine, relighting the sacred fire as part of the evening Ritual. Ever since then, our household doesn't use heat or light--my version of 21st century fire.  It isn't realistic to think we would got without our refrigerator, freezer, or other electrical appliances that run in our backgrounds.  But I think it's a great tradition to go without heat or lights.  It's easy enough in North Carolina this time of year--we've actually had our heat and a/c both off for a few weeks now.

I haven't yet given up the computer completely, since I fear friends will feel neglected or worried if they can't reach me, but it my intention is to dramatically lessen its use, and not use it frivolously.

We don't use the stove or oven either. So our Ritual feast is usually a salad.  We'll be having a large green salad, as well as a roasted chicken for protein.  For dessert, one of our celebrants is making a lemon chess pie.  

We will spend some extra time this Ritual to ground and center.  Some of our recent Rituals have had disruptive energies, so I will make some additional efforts early on to ground us all.  I will ask those who are enjoying blessings from the Wheel to share their energies with those who are struggling.

This is, of course, a fertility ritual, but we will not be so focused on that this year--at least not in the usual way.  For many years I simply followed the Wheel of the Year in rituals, and for the most part, I still do that.  What are you hoping will come to fruition while the sun's energy waxes?  What does reflection tell you about changes and plans you need to make as the sun's energy wanes?  And so on.

This year, instead, we will focus on celebrating the blessings of the Wheel, with gratitude for those who are in good spaces, and perspective for folks who are struggling.  At our Ostara Ritual, I read the children's book, "On the Day You Were Born," to remind celebrants of their own specialness.  At Ostara, I will read the opening pages of Bill Bryson's book, "A Short History of Nearly Everything."    In his opening pages, he eloquently describes the billions of coincidences, survivors, and fittest ancestors that have had to come together throughout the ages to create each of us.  The ultimate celebration of fertility is the fact that each of us is here.  My hope is to bring faith and encouragement for those who need it, and an opportunity to reflect on gratitude for others.  All of our celebrants are good at that, but I believe there can never be too much gratitude.

We have frequently been taught, I think, that emotionally charged events get emblazoned on our memories.  My generation can describe exactly where they were when the Challenger exploded, when news of certain deaths came to us, or, of course, September 11th, 2001.  It isn't as simple as emotional experiences, though.  It is really only the negative ones.  How many people say they can't remember their own weddings?  How many times are we reminded in a flash of negative things that happened, but how rarely are we flooded with positive memories?  When we have good things happen to us, we really need to stop and reflect.  So one of my goals is to stop and reflect more.  So I will bring this concept and practice to my small group of celebrants.    

We will also jump the fire. In typical Beltaine tradition, we will each jump over the fire in the yard.  I have coached our fire expert that our fire must be small enough for us to bound safely. Believe me when I say this is a challenge for our very talented fire maker, who loves to build them high and gorgeous!

I have hopes this will be a beautiful Beltaine celebration.  

Sometimes it just doesn't go well

So our Ostara Ritual was not all that I had hoped for, but it was a valuable lesson in "sometimes, it just doesn't go well."

Ostara morning in our part of North Carolina dawned rainy, gloomy and cold.  We had planned a possible rain venue, but I was hoping we could make it work outside.  We have a tradition of meeting at a local lake, and this was the first year the weather threatened to make it really miserable, instead of just windy and chilly.

But I wanted to give it a try.  One beauty of modern Witchcraft is the ability to use our cell phones to communicate quickly, and we were all in text contact as we decided, yes, we would give it a go outside.  A few raindrops threatened as we drove to the lake, but they stopped quickly.

We found a covered picnic area, which promised us cover from all the but the most torrential rains, and that meant a sigh of relief, since we wouldn't be suddenly packing and running for the cars .  The rain never took hold, though, and we were able to celebrate in relative comfort of chilly and damp.

The day was just gloomy.  A pall hung over us, and the energies weren't right.  We were chilly, one participant was exhausted from work stress and one was getting sick, it turns out, with a nasty virus.  The rest of us had trouble shaking off the dank gloom, and I saw before us brown, damp woods, dirty picnic tables, and a loud volley ball game, instead of the bright signs of spring at a lake.  The lake itself was too far away to be a real presence.

But we gave it a good try, with brightly colored table cloths, great food, and wonderful company.  I had planned the altar knowing we might be subject to rain and wind, so I didn't use candles.  I set one of the tables with the altar items, using my phone's compass.  (Again, modern Witchcraft has its perks!)  I have pastel-colored bowls in a yellow, pinkish-red, blue, and green that I use specifically for Ostara, and in them I put bird seed, red peppers, lake water, and lake soil.  In the center we had a large pot to hold items for blessing.

We cast circle and called quarters, and then meditated briefly.  I used this opportunity to thank the participants for their role in my life, and I read the poem, "On the Day You Were Born," by Debra Frasier (it is a children's book, but I read only the text).  It's a beautiful story of how all beings prepare for a child's birth.  I love the message that each of us is welcomed here and special.  It's a beautiful book for a baby shower, but I thought it the perfect message to give my fellow celebrants on this spring day of rebirth, to express my gratitude that they are my friends and that we have such an intimate relationship in Ritual.  I also love the beauty that each of us was meant to be here, that we have a glorious destiny that is one with the Universe, and if we are struggling, as several of the participants have been recently, we can remember how eagerly we were anticipated, and how important and loved we are.

Unfortunately, the energies of the poem, which I had been so excited to share, never really took off.  The overwhelming energy of "meh" maintained its hold on us.  But that's ok.  We have many Ostara celebrations ahead of us, and as the sun finally makes an appearance in these parts, we are starting to feel that surge of spring in our bones, and many of us are now celebrating her sunny return. 

Blessed Ostara, on Earth's time, y'all.

Imbolc

Hopefully, if you're reading this blog in real time, you were able to enjoy a peaceful and inspirational Imbolc! 

Saturday afternoon, I set up a white altar in the living room of our house.  I am blessed with a large living room, perfect for ritual and for entertaining.  My personal altar is a small wooden table (and by small, I mean slightly larger than a footstool) that I assembled myself, and which I set on top of other tables or outside, as the occasion requires.  But when entertaining other practitioners, I use a fold-up card table that is made mostly of wood. So today, I centered it on the eastern wall to make room for people to be able to relax and talk before and after the actual ritual, with a corner facing the hearth, making the table extend into the room in a diamond shape.

I set a white cloth on it, and then an overlay of white and silver, with shiny beads.  This adds a little sparkle and dresses up the altar stuff, and although it's not made of natural fibers, I enjoy a little indulgence of princess-ness every now and then. 

For Air, I used a glass ball--a Christmas ornament with a glass hook blown into it, so I set the hook inside a small glass candle holder, allowing the ball to set up on the table some.  I used a white pillar candle, set in a raised, white, stone pillar candle holder for Fire.  Water was a clear bowl as well as a crystal snowflake--it is winter, after all, even in North Carolina.  And Earth was clear quartz crystals set in a white plate.  The center of the altar held my goddess and god statues, which just happen to be white (goddess) and glass (god), along with two white pillars, set low on the table.  The very center of the table held white roses.

For additional light I used a glass, lotus shaped holder with a white taper candle.  I am also blessed with an upcoming renovation to my living room, so I didn't hesitate to place a hook in the ceiling above the table and hang a small glass lantern down over the center of the table, with a tea light inside.  This added a fantasy element to the altar, which I enjoy.

I then wrapped the bottom of the table in white string lights (like Christmas lights) and overlaid a silver organza fabric that completely hid the lights, except for the cord, which  I discreetly ran out against the wall and into an extension cord that had a switch, so they were plugged in, but not on.

It's true, you can do magic anywhere.  You can ritual anywhere, with no tools, just what is in your heart.  But especially when entertaining other practitioners, I love to set a beautiful altar to bring the magic of creativity into our Rite and to set a rich mood.

I had set a bowl off to the side--a very large ceramic bowl on a small table--into which I poured water and chamomile and lavender bath salts.  Prior to Ritual, people washed their hands and dried them on the white cloth provided. 

My husband then smudged the group as we ringed the altar.

Participants brought items to the altar for blessing by Brigid, and I had prepared small jars of lavender and chamomile bath salts for each person to take home.  (As is the magical way, I didn't actually know how many were coming, but had exactly the right number of jars.  I love Witchcraft.)

We cast circle in my favorite way, which is to take hands, starting with one person's left hand into the other's right, and go simply, one at a time, around the circle.  Once all hands are held, a simple, "In our friendship, this Circle is cast."

We called the quarters, the goddess and the god, each participant using their own words and drawing on their own practices.

And then total chaos ensued.  No lie.  This was a rare ritual where the energies of the house simply wouldn't settle down. The new kittens knocked things over, thunder paws rang throughout the house.  And then--and this was the best part--I heard the sound of Eddie T. Wonderdawg, my beautiful but ill-behaved rescue dog, eating directly from the bowl of potato chips.  First there was the single-chip crunch.  I hoped that would sate him, but no.  He went back for more.  Of course, everyone broke into giggles as I left circle to put the bowl up.

Returning to circle (I have such patient friends), I said a few words about Brigid, and we sought her inspiration.  (Thunder paws off to the left).  I invited participants to speak at will.  (Thunder paws and a loud yowl off to the right.)  Almost all participants spoke, the energy still flying chaotically around the room, and then one participant spoke, deeply, earnestly, of her pains of the past and her hope for the future, and suddenly, it was quiet.  The thunder paws stopped, Eddie was calm, the candle light stood still (finally).  The room settled, and it felt like Ritual should.

Once all had spoken, I read much of the creation story as written by Silver RavenWolf.  She is a controversial writer, I know, but when it comes to the creation story, she tells a beautiful tale of a love and passion.  At the end of the excerpt, when we basically come to realize that Love is the Bond, I flipped the string lights on, brightening the space and making a final plea for Brigid's blessings.

We closed circle, and continued to socialize for quite some time.

This was an interesting Ritual for me, given the chaotic energies in the room.  I am reminded that we can't control everything, and that in the end, it all works out all right.  We have a number of people in our group who have practiced together for many years, and we have some newcomers as well.  This ritual reminded me of setting our altar on fire a few years back, and I was glad nothing quite so dramatic happened here. 

We also talked a bit about the palpable sense that things are getting better these days.  We are all hopeful and feeling positive about the future and our financial safety.  I'm hoping this continues, as we are all worn out from events of past years.  Perhaps that's the best cleansing.  Shaking off the despair of recent events, and being ready to face the future with hope again.

What do you have under your bed?

I am eagerly looking forward to Imbolc this year!  I am excited to report that my renewed commitment to the Craft appears to be holding strong, and honestly, it feels a lot like the first time.  (I am coming dangerously close to sounding like a Madonna song, but I'm glad, because the feeling of being excited about something is a fun feeling!)

I have been reminded of the spring cleaning nature of this Sabbat, and as such have been spending some time getting my Spiritual house in order in a fairly literal way.  For the years my spirituality lay fallow, I kept a pile of papers--interesting articles, links, magazines, etc--on my desk.  I spent some time getting those papers organized, as well as dusting off and giving some TLC to my Craft tools.  It's weird saying that, since they lay all over the house, but I do have an altar, and it has been gathering dust--quite literally--for some time.

I also made a bath salts blend of salt, lavendar, and chamomile, which we will use to cleanse our hands at the Imbolc ritual (I have a large pottery bowl, which I fill with water and salts for symbolic cleansings), and I will give small bottles of it out to the attendants to continue to the energies of the Ritual.  The bottles will be charged in the moonlight the night before the Ritual.  The current jar of salts is on the altar with the white ribbons that were blessed at last year's Imbolc Ritual.

In thinking about the spring cleaning nature of Imbolc, I am reminded of the best piece of Feng Shui advice I ever got.  The area under your bed is an area of money.  Do you store stuff under your bed?  Is it cluttered?  Clean it up!  Get everything out from under there.  Packing/storing items under your bed stops the money energies from flowing.  If you do nothing else to honor the Imbolc Sabbat this year, I recommend this one thing--clear it out, vacuum under it, and visualize money energies flowing freely and happily around you.

I also bumped into Feng Shui at a Mind, Body, Spirit expo a few years ago, when a friend stopped to chat with a consultant.  I had been working on a major reorganization of my house, and noticed one room in particular had been the catch-all for storage, clutter and junk.  It was like a whirlpool of attraction for everything in my house that didn't have a space of its own, and there was a lot of it.  It was disorganized, cluttered, messy, and therefore, for me, anxiety-producing and overwhelming.  The Feng Shui read?  It was my room of relationships, which at that time were disorganized, cluttered, messy, and therefore, for me, anxiety producing and overwhelming.

I made it a top priority to clean it out, and sure enough, things fell into place. 

My task for the next two weeks, leading up to the Imbolc Ritual at my home, will be to continue with the decluttering and get the house in order.  It's nearly there.  Then my main room, which is our Ritual space, will be open and ready to receive Brigid's blessings.

Anticipating Imbolc

I have an interesting relationship with Imbolc.  When I first came to understand modern Witchcraft--when I first read about Rituals and Sabbats--I had years of experience with seasonal depression.  I am fortunate that my depressions are a mild version, but each winter, I experienced a dip in mood, difficulty getting out of the house, and low energy.  I remember a time years ago--it was about three weeks before Yule, and I cried to my husband at the time, that the shortening days were doing their dark magic on me, and that the Solstice was still weeks away, an eternity before the sun would even begin to return. 

But as I started understanding the Sabbats, I was able to notice the signs of spring as early as Imbolc.  February had always been hopelessly dark for me, cold, anxiety-producing, and frustrating.  I knew these were natural cycles, always to be repeated, and yet I still struggled.  But honoring Imbolc means seeing the crocuses as they pop up, where I used to just walk past them, too low and too small for me to see, and myself too grumpy to look;  realizing the livestock in nearby farms are pregnant, instead of driving by unseeing; and hearing the birds singing in the morning, instead of bemoaning the need to drag myself to work in the cold.  A good friend once said to me, "Witchcraft has provided you a reframe for winter." 

Now, even before Imbolc reminds me the light is returning, I have come to recognize the beauty of winter and the darkness.  We push ourselves to go to work and maintain our usual routines, but what I know in my heart is that we are creatures who are meant to be hanging out in the back of the cave, having sex and telling stories, sharing our oral histories to pass traditions down to the tribe.  It's ok for me to want to hibernate all winter, because that is the natural way.  There is no sadness in there.  Just rest.  Well-earned, I might add.

I also have come to realize that I perk up each spring, and I don't have to do anything to make it happen.  I must simply ride out the winter, resting, and come spring, my energy increases, I plan things, I get things done.

So I have come to love Imbolc as one of my favorite things about the Craft.  Yule and Samhain had already been big celebrations in my life.  But Imbolc was a gift that resulted specifically from discovering modern Witchcraft.

Now, decades later, I am rekindling my relationship with each of the Sabbats.  I am excited to rediscover each one.  So for the next few weeks I will be planning the details of my Imbolc Ritual.  I'm sad to say that I don't even remember what I did last year.  My journal skips from June of 2011 to September of 2012.  I can't believe I had dropped off like that.  But Facebook and Blogspot are starting to dig in to hand-written journaling time!

So, anyway, all this is to say that I look forward to planning my Imbolc Ritual with you.  We'll take a look over the next three weeks at different ways to celebrate, and I will pick out the ones that resonate.  I'm excited about this project, and about sharing it here.

Handfasting

2013!  Yowza!!

A quarter turn of the wheel since I started this new journey, and yet it feels like a lifetime.

I forewent my usual Yule celebrations this year, as 14 months ago, my then-boyfriend and I decided that Yule was the perfect weekend for a wedding.  We have been planning ever since, and on December 22, we tied the knot.  What a great expression that has maintained its presence in our common vernacular, but so clearly refers to the handfasting practice.

You might read this blog entry and feel like I'm just another bride, enthralled with the details of my own celebration.  If this is something that doesn't interest you, I take no offense, and feel free to skip this  entry.  But my hope here is to focus on the Ritual itself, and the ways we personalized the experience, tying myriad traditions into a cohesive celebration.  If that interests you, then I encourage you to keep reading.

So first, we picked a space with a rich history and natural energy.  A historic, wood lodge one town north of us.  It's a beautiful cabin, set in a clearing, in the woods, on the bank of a lake.  A huge stone hearth creates a beautiful point of focus in the large main room.

We brought the natural themes into the decorations as much as possible, choosing evergreens throughout the space, using coffee beans and cranberries to fill the candle holders (here we used real candles, contained in glass vases, to ensure a warm and safe light), and the "guest book" was planks of sanded poplar, written on in pencil.  Later we will burn in the writings, tracing the original handwriting, then oil the wood to bring out the natural colors, before hanging them in a place of prominence in our living room.

Space was tight--we were going to have difficulty squeezing in the chairs along with tables for food, drinks, plates, the cake, the guest book, and a table for gifts.  You know how these things go--there's never enough room for it all.  So I hesitated to create element altars, or even a center altar--space was that tight.  We decided, then, to hang the altars on chains from the ceiling.  Large wood beams stretch across the space.  We bought lamp chains, but didn't want to risk damaging the ancient wood, so we looped ribbon in the corresponding color around and fastened the chains that way.  We bought brightly colored and sequined fabric in yellow, red, blue and green, which we wove into the chain loops and carried the color from ceiling to floor.

To each chain, again using the corresponding colored ribbon, we tied four glass votive holders at intervals along the chain.  We opted for electric candles since we didn't want to worry during the service and didn't want to burn down the historic building.  But for a general ritual, we would go with real candles.

We spent the year collecting various objects to also tie to each chain.  Stars in various media--stone, metal, wood, glass--in some cases painted to match the altar cloth.  At the bottom of each chain hung the "anchor" symbol--a yellow glass bubble, a red votive holder (again, the electric candle), a bottle of water, a tiny green planter with a small plant growing in it.  Other symbols were also hung from the chains--a yellow-tipped blown-glass fairy, a red blown-glass dragon, a mermaid, a gnome.  More objects were also collected--coins on earth, a crystal snowflake on water, a prism/light catcher on air, a salamander on fire.  Also, corresponding crystals and stones, each wrapped in wire, were attached to each chain.  And finally, because the groom follows a different tradition, native symbols were also attached near the top of each chain, using the corresponding colors for his tradition--a stone eagle, a wooden bear, buffalo teeth, and a wolf totem.

The mantle of the stone hearth was decorated with evergreens and then interspersed with our power emblems--our god and goddess statues from our home altar, my husband's bear statue, his grandmother's necklace, a cat statue representing my father (his last gift to me before he died), the Ganesh a friend and coven member had given us, a stone wand another friend and coven member had given us, the Ace of Cups Tarot card, and a plate of corn and a plate of beef, exchanged as part of the native tradition at a wedding.

For the ritual itself, we joined each other at the back of the space and walked together up the aisle to join our minister at the hearth.  The groom carried his sacred staff, the bride, dressed in a shimmery dress of blue, red and purple, overlaid with black and silver lace, carried nothing, but held lightly to the groom's arm.

The service started with the invocation of the quarters and the directions.  The bride called each quarter, asking at each, "Please join us in this rite, bless us in our marriage, and walk with us forever."  The groom called each direction, following his native tradition.

The minister said a few words of welcome, and then the groom's best friend read the first reading, The Spirit Prayer:

Oh, Great Spirit, whose voice we hear in the wind,
Whose breath gives life to all the world.
Hear us--we need your strength and wisdom.
Let us walk in beauty, and make our eyes ever behold the red and purple sunset.
Make our hands respect the things you have made and our ears sharp to hear your voice
Make us wise so that we may understand the things you have taught our people.
Help us to remain calm and strong in the face of all that comes towards us.
Let us learn the lessons you have hidden in every leaf & rock.
Help us seek pure thoughts & act with the intention of helping others.
Help us find compassion without empathy overwhelming us.
We seek strength, not to be greater than our brothers, but to fight our greatest enemy - ourselves.
Make us always ready to come to you with clean hands and straight eyes.
So when life fades, as the fading sunset, our spirits may come to you without shame.

The minister then spoke beautifully about the choice of the Solstice, the darkest day, for our wedding, reminding us to look to the lessons of the earth for rest and renewal, when in our darkest times, we need not abandon our marriage, but seek renewal.  She also spoke to those gathered there, encouraging them to support us in our vows, so that when we came seeking help, they would also encourage us to turn to one another for healing and strength.

The second reading was the bride's best friend--the Buddhist blessing and healing chant:

Just as the soft rains fill the streams,
pour into the rivers and join together in the oceans,
so may the power of every moment of your goodness
flow forth to awaken and heal all beings,
Those here now, those gone before, those yet to come.
By the power of every moment of your goodness
May your heart's wishes be soon fulfilled
as completely shining as the bright full moon,
as magically as by a wish-fulfilling gem.

By the power of every moment of your goodness
May all dangers be averted and all disease be gone.
May no obstacle come across your way.
May you enjoy fulfillment and long life.

For all in whose heart dwells respect,
who follow the wisdom and compassion, of the Way,
May your life prosper in the four blessings
of old age, beauty, happiness and strength.

We then exchanged our vows, with the minister leading us.  She first asked,

Do you, William, take Jennifer, in perfect love and perfect trust, to be your lawfully wedded wife? 

And then prompted us through the vows:

I promise to walk with you forever.

In fallow times and in fertile times,

In darkness and in light,

In storms and in calmness.

I will be faithful to you,

I will support you, and

I will celebrate you.

 And then, as we exchanged rings:

My body to your body,

My heart to your heart,

My soul to your soul,

Blessed be.


At the declaration of "I now pronounce you husband and wife," the gathered guests let out a loud and joyful noise, a thunderous applause and whooping and clamoring, to alert all the realms, from here to the heavens, that they supported our union and ours was to be a strong and joyous marriage.

We then ate and drank--beer, wine, and mead--to celebrate, with dancing, photographs, and all the fun of a joyous holiday party. 

Blessed be.