Divine Inspiration

In high school my teachers always told us that we should start our assignments early, because you couldn't sit around waiting for divine inspiration to strike. In college, I proved them wrong.

Whenever I had a paper assigned and no idea what to write about I would gather together all of the relevant books, plus my notebook for that class, and spend an evening at the library. Once there, I walked up to the second floor and sat down in one of the easy chairs facing the giant windows and pulled up footstool. I made a neat pile of the books next to me, and then started to think.

I didn't think about the paper, or even the class. I just stared outside as dusk faded into dark and let my mind wander wherever it would. Within two or three hours I would not only have an idea for the paper, but a fully written introduction and conclusion which I couldn't get onto paper fast enough, as well as a rough outline for the rest of the paper. These were invariably my best essays.

In retrospect, I think that this was a form of magic. The books and paper set my intention, and I placed myself in an area free of distractions in which I could let my mind wander until the desired end was conjured up from the ether. By setting an intention and letting my mind drift, I had my best ideas. But how do I apply this to life outside of school? I was clearly onto something, at least about how my mind works. If I spent more undirected time away from the distractions of books and the internet, would I be able to come up with brilliant solutions to my problems, or does it just work for writing? And even if it does only work for writing, why am I not using it for that, at least?

This is my new goal for the coming week: two allocate time for at least 2 such sessions, one for writing and one for solving a problem. If possible, I'll fit in a third for a craft related project. And I'll report on my results back here! With luck, at least one of them will work and I'll have a better idea of how I can effectively use this technique in the future.

Keeping House

Upon the urgings of a tree spirit I recently began working with, I have turned my attention to a new and perhaps unusual spiritual pursuit: keeping house. I've always known that tending the hearth could be taken a spiritual activity, have even been tempted to look into it, but my inherent antipathy towards cleaning and ennui in regards to clutter kept me from giving it a try. Now I'm being told to try.

Cleaning with intention does seem to help me somewhat. Thus far my intention is very simply to make our home a more comfortable place for my husband. He is much more sensitive to clutter and mess, but I am the one with more free time. It's so easy for me to ignore the messes that I honestly don't see them, but he does, and that's not fair. So I'm trying. And it really has been easier to see the clutter since I took this up. I'm still not very good at cleaning, but I'm getting better.

Eventually, I think I would like to try to incorporate more complicated intentions, such as cleansing the house of negativity while I clean or infusing it love, or perhaps just add more ritual to the activities. But for now I will focus on straightening up as a way to take care of my husband. I think that's enough for now.

Beltaine 2009

Last year, I had trouble connecting to the energy of Beltaine. I thought that I needed to be in a passionate fervor, and it just wasn't happening. This year I am also lacking in energetic enthusiasm, but I feel Beltaine around me and through me nonetheless. It's a gentle sort of energy, loving and enveloping without being insistent or cloying. No demands, just the offer of love and support. I didn't know that Beltaine could have this sort of energy, but I suppose it makes sense. Sex isn't just about wild animal passion. It encompasses tender lovemaking as much as monkey lovin'.

I just had a quiet ritual on the wet concrete of my backyard, surrounded by overgrown gardens, chattering birds, and the caress of gentle breezes. A loving voice told me that I am held back by my fear -- a fear of not being worthy and of not fully engaging in life. That is why I feel unworthy and why I do not fully engage in life. Complex and circular, but ultimately true. The only solution is to take baby steps. And that is why Beltaine is quiet for me; because I need support in order to grow right now, and not a wild dance of color and light. There will be plenty of time for that later.

May you all be blessed by a wonderful Beltaine!

Bi-annual Moving of the Altar

Today was my bi-annual moving of the altar. I decreed that it is finally reliably nice enough out for my altar to go into the enclosed front porch. It's so much nicer than having it indoors; I can see the moon at night, hear the outside noises, and feel a bit more isolated from the mundane concerns of my apartment. I would love to keep it out there year round, but it just gets too cold.

Although I've done this move a few times already, this was a day of firsts. Before dragging the altar table out there, I actually vacuumed! I never think to vacuum, but the carpet out there was covered in splintered wood, embroidery threads, and a random pile of dirt, and I thought that my altar deserved better than that. Once the table was situated and I began ferrying supplies, I embarked upon another shocking departure from tradition. As I placed the central item of my altar -- what I consider to be the heart of the altar and which I always place in the center before I move anything else over -- it just didn't feel right. So I took the two necklaces that drape over said item and used them to demarkate specific areas. One now surrounds the central pentacle, and the other has my representation of Freya within it's circle. This represents part of the most radical redesign of my altar in years. I made a few changes following Twilight Covening this autumn, but this is far more involved. I'll try to take a picture to show you all of the differences.

While moving altar items over, I saw that I had been careless with my cauldron and not cleaned it out after it's last use, so I took it into the kitchen to wipe the sooty remains of some long forgotten ritual from it. Except that the remains weren't budging. I suddenly remembered that I had used the cauldron twice without cleaning it out, which I never do. It really shows how careless I had become about spirituality. Because I burn an herb mixture coated in wax, the double use had fused the older remains to the bottom of the cauldron. To get it clean I set it down in a pot of boiling water until enough of the wax had melted that I could easily wipe it clean. This is probably the cleanest it's been in years! I hope I never let it get that bad again. And it was so hot when I took it out that the water immediately evaporated from the cast iron, which is convenient - I'd been worried about it rusting if I didn't get it dry quickly.

In a little while, I will sit down for the first time at my newly redesigned, newly relocated altar to perform a new moon ritual.

Picking Up the Trash

I love sunny days. Here in New England it feels like we get precious few of them, so I try to cherish those that I can by spending time outside, preferable on the local conservation land.

I was happy to be able to ride my 5-speed bicycle. My husband has been slowly renovating it, and it's not quite ready for large, steep hills yet, but the conservation area isn't far. It's so much more fun to ride than my regular hybrid frame! I'm amused that my "new" bike is actually older than I am (it's a Raleigh Superbe from the 70's), but it's really perfect for me.

Once I had locked my bike up and started walking down the path I saw garbage absolutely everywhere, and berated myself for not thinking to bring a bag to pick trash up. I used to be in the habit of always doing that -- heck, in collage that was one of my favorite things to do! Some friends and I would go into the woods on our campus and pick up as much of the trash left by generations of frat boys as we could. We considered it something of a spiritual act - giving back to the land and all that. After 9/11, we worked for some sort of peace by cleaning up the woods with intention. It's a time honored task -- not only does it provide a public service (cleaner wooded areas), but it also forces me to pay more attention to the land, rather than letting myself get lost in my own thoughts.

Lucky for me, it didn't take long before I found a discarded plastic grocery bag, and I began collecting trash. Most of it was the standard assortment of plastic wrappers from junk food, cans and bottles, but I was surprised to find an old rusted screwdriver.

I spent some time sitting by the waterfall, which is a favorite spot of mine. There's a rocky ledge halfway down that can be gotten to pretty easily if you don't mind straying from the path, and from there the roar of the water drowns out the nearby cars (it's not a large conservation area). I love watching the water rushing down and into the meandering stream below. I spent quite some time communing with the land there.

I disposed of most of the collected trash before leaving, but as there was not a separate recycling container I decided to ride home with a doubled up plastic bag full of broken glass bottles and cans dangling from my handlebars. Probably not my best idea, but it seemed wrong to go through all that trouble to clean the woods up and then not recycled what could be recycled.

Not dead, only hibernating

Ok, so maybe hibernating is a strong word for it, but I have been rather distracted for awhile now, both from spiritual pursuits in general and this blog in particular. Some of that was mid-winter depression (which is still hanging around), some genuine busy-ness, and some the simple fact that I am easily distracted, even from things that are important to me.

That said, I am back now. A few weeks ago, a friend mentioned that a faery seership program would likely be starting up in my area soon (well, soon-ish. Someday, at any rate). I happen to have heard the figure in question speak a few years ago, and purchased his book. At the time, I wasn't sure what I thought of him -- his words were compelling, but I had some misgivings. Reading his book didn't help me clarify my feelings, and I had completely forgotten about him. With my friend's news, however, I decided to go back and look at the book again, to see if the intervening 2-3 years might have changed how I responded. And they had -- now I am fairly certain that I am interested in this program. I still find some of his assertions questionable, but I think that his teachings on the whole are likely a good fit for me. In the meantime, I am rereading his first book and actually doing the exercises. This is a rare thing for me! I know that you don't get as much out of a pagan book without doing those, but I rarely manage it. But this time I'm really doing them! I'm finding that not reading the whole book at once helps -- by not getting too far ahead of the last exercise I did, I seem to be more able to keep up.

I'm feeling good about the work I've been doing. I think that early spring is an excellent time for it. Many of the practices need to be done outside, and right now it is just getting to be nice again. And the atmosphere of fledgling growth is a pleasant one to work in, especially while I'm working through yet another bout of depression.

Unseasonable late Imbolc

Here in good old New England we've been having an unseasonably warm spell -- as in it was 55 degrees Fahrenheit yesterday. I rode my bike to the grocery store in a t-shirt and enjoyed it, which may be a sign of the apocolypse, but it's a rather enjoyable one.

I usually hate the month of February. The Wheel of the Year promises that Imbolc is the start of a shift in seasons, but the cold and ice that still hold sway would seem to contradict that. However, this warm snap is making it much easier to believe that spring will come. I know that this won't last -- unseasonable weather never does -- but this early taste has reminded me that winter will end. It always does. And in the meantime I will try to appreciate this gift while it lasts!

As a side note, I checked the apple tree in my yard and it is starting to bud. Perhaps Imbolc represents a real shift in the seasons after all!

January 2009 New Moon

I'm feeling a bit better, depression wise -- fish oil and making sure to get 20 minutes of prime sunlight a day seem to be making a difference, amazingly enough. I was not terribly optimistic about them, and really thought that I would have to switch antidepressants yet again. I'm glad I listened to my gut and tried these first! That said, I'm still not exactly filled with feelings of joy and well being. Alas, alack.

I did manage to a new moon house cleansing, the first since Sacred Susie's group cleanse in November. It followed almost exactly the same format as last time (you can read more about that cleanse here), except that I skipped the sun water. Since I'm not feeling terribly sunny myself*, I doubted my ability to imbue the apartment with that kind of energy. The extent to which simply smelling the sage smoke brings me back to a centered state surprised me. I knew that the sage smoke had some effect on me, but this more profound than I had realized. It's nice to know.

Do any of you have regular spiritual cleansings (of your home or your person), gentle readers?

*I've actually taken to visualizing myself bathed in sunlight every morning when I do my daily ritual, in order to combat that problem

Depression owns my ass

Depression has been kicking my ass these past weeks, and I haven't had the energy to do much of anything, including spiritual pursuits. Even though I know that spending time at my altar would likely help, it's hard to force myself to do it. That said, I did manage to do some journeying today and consult my spirit guides. I spoke with Bactrian Camel, who offered to help me through rough patches, and s/he was welcoming and open to renewing our relationship. I know that I would do well to try to have some contact with my spirit friends every day, particularly during this dark time. I'll do the best I can -- even if I can't manage daily contact.

Lights in the dark

Lights in the dark. That's the heart of our seasonal celebrations, and that's why I feel that our festivities are ill-timed. The solstice may be the longest night, but I'm not sure that it's the darkest. The colder it gets, the darker darkness becomes, and we won't reach the coldest part of winter for at least another handfull of weeks. That's why I feel that the entire period between the solstice and Imbolc (at least) should be dedicated to lights. Big lights, small lights, twinkly lights, steady beacons of light -- we need them now.

I particularly need them. My depression is rearing its ugly tentacles again, and lights in the dark are all that I have to keep me going. Lights in the dark may not make the darkness go away, but they give us hope. They give me hope, something to tie a string around to carry me through the night. And I need that. My soul weeps for some light, some hope, but I can't find any in myself right now. All I can do is try to set my internal rudder by the compass of those lights which I can find outside. For that reason, I think I will try to leave up those Yule decorations which give off light. Perhaps bringing more lights into my living space will help.

There are metaphorical lights in the dark, too: my husband, music (and singing along therewith), any crafting I can manage. Creating things always serves to shed light, but it is difficult to draw forth from myself anything that feels worthwhile when I can't seem to find anything worthwhile inside myself. Dragging anything up from the depths when I feel like this is like pouring molasses -- sticky and slow and I'm not sure if I'll ever be clean again when I'm done. But in the end, it's worth it. Without molasses you can't make gingerbread cookies, and without excavating beauty from the depression, how can I ever make sense of it to find my way out again?