October 7th horoscope

I know I've plugged Rob Brezsny's Free Will Astrology here before, I am going to do it again. My horoscope for the coming week is so hilarious, I absolutely must share it!

CANCER (June 21-July 22): One of the most famous pop culture icons in Indonesia died last July. Mak Erot, who was over a hundred years old, was renowned for her skill in helping men develop more sizable reproductive organs. The official story was that she used nothing more than prayers and herbs, but there are hints that she also had supernatural powers. She's your patron saint this week, Cancerian, even if you're a woman. I am calling on her inspiration, and I hope you will too, to help you lengthen and strengthen your inner, metaphorical phallus, by which I mean your will to accomplish your dreams.

Interesting. I like it.

Seasonal Eating

I've been wanting to write about seasonal foods for awhile, and now that it is autumn it seems like the perfect time. I love fall foods!

As a pagan, I feel that it is important to stay connected to the cycle of the seasons, the rhythm of the earth. One way of doing that is to try to eat seasonal, locally grown food. This isn't to say that I don't eat food shipped in from California, Mexico, and other locations far sunnier than my own (if I didn't, I'd probably starve to death in the winter. I admire the perseverance of the early settlers, but sometimes wonder why they didn't go farther south!). But I do try to eat locally whenever possible, and from late spring through the fall I can say that I almost all of the produce I eat is locally grown, and thus seasonally appropriate. I also try to can as much of the harvest as I can. This year we put up several jars of tomatoes, prepared enough sundried tomatoes to last the next year, and froze pesto.

I am lucky to be able to do this. I have the disposable income to spend on slightly more expensive produce, and I live in an area with an abundance of Community Supported Agriculture (CSA's), which are farms from which you buy a share up front. Every week I get my share of fresh produce grown only a few miles from my home. It's hard to get more local than that! Sometimes, eating locally can be rather frustrating, for instance in the beginning of the season when you seem to be swimming in a sea of greens. Other times it has been rather illuminating, as when I received a watermelon in early September. Who knew that was when they actually ripened around here? But most of the time, it's simply delicious.

On one level, some foods just don't taste right when they're flown across the country. Have you ever eaten asparagus that's traveled across a continent? It's disgusting. And strawberries in February may be tempting, but they often have the flavor of moist cardboard (a fact which genuinely saddens me, as they have such a short growing season!)

Sometimes, when I get too busy and too distracted to even notice what is going on outside my window, it is my food that lets me know what season it really is. Earlier today I was wondering why it felt like autumn was only just starting, when we've already run through all of September. Then it hit me; we've only started getting winter squash two or three weeks ago. It didn't feel like autumn yet because it *wasn't* autumn yet. It was only the calendar making me think it was!

It's particularly nice to eat locally and seasonally around the sabbats. For Mabon this year I had a delicious delicotta squash (from our CSA!) stuffed with wild rice and a rich creamy sauce flavored with nutmeg. Magnificent! I find Samhain to be more difficult, as a vegetarian. The season really demands mat, in keeping with the themes of death. Last year I made due with fake sausages and apples (the apples were local, at least!), and likely will do so again this year.

As I said above, I know that I am privileged to be able to follow the wheel of the year in my food choices. With luck, the world will start to change soon, and more people will be able to afford to do so.

September 2008 New Moon

For my new moon ritual, I decided to take Sacred Suzie's advice and "listen to the voice that's gotten small and speaks in whispers because it hasn't been heard in so long but it's still trying." The response I got was surprising, to say the least. It said "Be still." This, despite my desperate feelings of stagnation. I guess I need to stop struggling, and let things unfold. Perhaps all of my frantic emotional energy is just making things worse..... at any rate, I have vowed to do my best to spend at least fifteen minutes a day at my altar for the next cycle of the moon. Should be interesting.

Mabon 2008

I love the autumn equinox. The energy is moving towards the dark half of the year; there's a mystery and a chill in the air; the spirits are stirring -- but it's still fairly warm out. The light has a different cast, and soon I'll be pulling out my favorite olive green velvet jacket to walk and ride under the leaves as they begin to turn. It's the start of the best time of year, the time of hot apple cider with cinnamon, of pumpkins and falling leaves against clear blue skies.

This year, I am having some minor (I hope) health problems which may explain part of why I have ha some trouble connecting with all of that. But my Mabon ritual has me back in alignment with the turning seasons, if not with my blood sugar. As usual, I brought out fresh produce grown in my town - this year an apple, a potato, a tomato, and a green pepper (I love the contrast between summer and autumn foods there! It's the perfect physical metaphor for this time of balance) as an offering. I tranced to my Mabon chant* and was reminded of all the spiritual resources at my disposal for both peace and inspiration. Then I did a rune reading which I am still puzzling over (I think it is saying that the trials and constraints placed on me from my depression are finally propelling me to journey towards a sense of "home," but I may be reading my own desires into that).

I hope you all had a wonderful first day of autumn!

*"Day and night are equal,
The circle turns again.
Summer time is far behind
but the spirit will grow strong"

Full Moon Reminder

I really need to remember to pay more attention to the moon. I just finished my full moon ritual. Rather than participating in Sacred Suzie's full moon manifestation collages this month, I decided to simply honor the moon by listening and talking and offering homage. It was -- as always -- a profoundly energizing experience. I should remember to make that connection on other nights, as well. It isn't as if she is only out one night a month!

Tonight also served to remind me how far I have strayed from those mysteries that first called me to my path. It is autumn, and I have felt the changing weather, but how much have I been touched by the slow drawing aside of the veil? To what extent have I allowed myself to be touched by those autumnal energies I am usually so keenly attuned with? Not much. I can't afford to let that continue. If I don't manage to engage in this season, commune with these mysteries, I will hardly be emotionally healthy enough to endure the winter.

I need to stop allowing myself to become so distracted from what I know is important to me.

I'm back!

I am back from my unscheduled hiatus! With luck, regular posting shall resume shortly.

It recently came to my attention that although I have not made it out to my favorite wooded area once this year, I have still spent more time outside than I probably have in years. But all that time has been spent on my bicycle. It's a different form of communion with nature than I am used to -- less tactile, for instance, as I can not reach out and caress the foliage (yes, I do that). But in other ways, I have become far more tuned to the seasons that I have ever been before. Since I have been riding my bicycle to work almost every day for a year now, I know about every subtle shift in the temperature. I am far more sensitive to impending rain. I have a better feeling for when the sun rises and sets. All of this is good and important, and I'm grateful to have this experiential knowledge. That said, I still miss the intimacy of walking through the woods and feeling the ground beneath my feet, or running water around my toes. With luck, I'll manage to get some of that this autumn, before the snow comes back and has us all running for hibernation again.

Now that summer is actually here....

Summer is in full swing, and I've been spending most of my reflecting time outdoors, and thus away from the computer, the internet, and this blog. I've been celebrating the earth while riding my bicycle, by swimming in a pond, and by eating fresh raspberries straight from my own yard.

I hope everybody else is enjoying the season in their own way!

Summer Solstice 2008

I feel like I really ought to write about the summer solstice. I should discuss the ritual I attended and abandoned halfway through, or reflect on how odd it is that a holiday which marks the beginning of the summer is sometimes referred to as 'Midsummer', or even discuss the solitary ritual I ended up doing on my own by the fairy shrine in my backyard. But really, the only thing I have to say is that I have decided that this is not the high point of summer, as all the pagan authors would have my believe. It may be the longest day of the year, and peak of the suns journey, but things are not yet coming to fruition. This is the time to pause, reflect, and enjoy the beginning ripeness of the earth before the harvest begins in earnest in a few months.

And that's all I have to say about the summer solstice.

The difficulty of stories, and re-enchanting the landscape

It's so difficult to write about spiritual, magical experiences. If you couch it in too much mystery, you sound corny. If you make it too straightforward you sound like you live in a bad fantasy novel. Either way, you haven't conveyed the experience.

And where do you begin? The magnificent always flows out of the mundane. So where does the story begin? Without any context, a mystical experience loses some of its meaning, but too much backstory can rob the share experience of immediacy.

Not to mention the ongoing fear of sounding a complete nutjob, which is always a risk with this sort of story.

* * * * *

This week-end, I had such an experience. No angelic trumpets, no solution to all of life's mysteries; just a few moments of clarity, gifted by the earth and water, a moment of understanding that may (or may not - it's too soon to tell) lead to a subtle shift in direction, leading me towards a purpose previously unglimpsed. I want to share that with you all, describe the experience, but I feel like I can't. No words I can conjure will convey my meaning. But I will try.

Feeling drained, restless, and chronically lacking in spiritual nourishment, I walked out to a waterfall, one of those hidden treasures. A stream that cuts down a rock face and has carved out a perfect hidden pool beneath, demonstrating the power of waters sheer perseverance. I wish I had a picture to show you, but I don't.

I went there trying to cleanse myself, somehow. I waded in on the rock shelf that lets me get in up to my ankles. It was pleasant, but not lifting my spirit like I needed. I tried grounding into the gently running water, but that didn't work either. For awhile, I moved from spot to spot in the water and on the rocks, like a restless sleeper who just can't find a comfortable position. I knew that what I needed could be found here, but where? Where?

Eventually, I found myself crouching on the smooth rock at the top of the waterfall, with my left hand trailing in the water. I felt the flowing energy seep into me, and I felt myself ground deep into the rock. Almost without conscious thought, a question wrung out of me and I asked "What is the meaning of my life?"

Perhaps not surprisingly, I got an answer: re-enchant the landscape.

I've been pondering that ever since. What does it mean to re-enchant the landscape? I don't think it is one thing at all, but a constellation of attitudes and actions, ranging from learning more about the natural world around me and interacting with it in more deliberate ways, to creating art and writing which reflects the spiritual element of the earth, sky, and water. The labyrinth I walked last night an the outdoor faery altar I began today both fit that description. I bought a book on reading the forests around here, which I hope will help me in the practical aspects of this calling. I also have a book about the natural history of water which I hope is still sitting on a shelf somewhere.

Divination as spritual anchor

With spring and now early summer pulling me every which way, I've been having some trouble staying spiritually centered. I want to go out there and *do* things, and there is so much to do! But I know that I need to maintain some sense of internal reflection, as well. To that end I find myself doing far more divination than usual.

I find divination to be very centering. It forces me to sit down and think about a question. Then there is the wonderful tactile sensation as my hand swims through the runes, churning that ancient mystery of wonder. Once the tiles are cast, I have to look at the patterns and look within, to see how they correspond to where I am as the querrant. Do they tell me something I already know, deep down? Perhaps they reveal a new way of looking at the issue. Or sometimes they are simply a mystery, which I interpret to mean that I either asked the wrong question, or am not meant to know the answer.

Lately, the runes have been confirming my suspicions. Now I just need to put that knowledge into practice!