Ritual Supplies

June 30th will mark the three year anniversary of my learning/accepting that I am a Witch and of my initiation to Wicca. It feels like a long time since that night and, yet, like no time has passed!

Friday was Litha, the summer solstice celebration, and I wound up casting a fantastic impromptu, tool-less, circle out in the woods. While tools are just that, optional aids to ritual, I found myself thinking that it would be nice to be able to grab supplies and go when I get the urge to have a ritual somewhere other than at home. Until then, I'd either have a tool-less ritual, or clumsily pack up a few things only to discover that I was missing something once I got to my destination.

I went through my drawers and pulled out my assortment of coloured candles, incense, oils, herbs, and various other supplies, then I gathered my tools. With an idea of how much space I needed, I headed of in search of a case, which I found in a hardware store, in the tool box section, appropriately enough:



While not that aesthetically pleasing, the case is able to hold all my supplies and a few of my tools--my athame is almost invisible on the left part of the inner lid, vials of herbs and oil fit in the little pockets, my wand has an absolutely perfect resting place, and the box that holds my tarot cards fits beside the matches. The lid insert is easily removable; behind it I've put my small Book of Shadows and my favourite tarot reference. Now, when I want to head out, I don't need to dismantle my alter. Instead, I can add the tools to this case and throw my robe, chalice, and required books into my cauldron.

Just call me addicted to containerizing. :-D

Tools and Sabbats

I received a truly unexpected magical gift today:



I have searched for a cauldron for about a year and a half, forgetting the magical rule that governs my life--tools come to me and will hide if I seek them out. This precious gift came to me through divine intervention, as do all tools. I casually mentioned to a new friend with certain connections that I was looking for this tool. Then I helped my friend with a deeply personal project, expecting nothing in return. I never dreamt I would have such a large cauldron, nor one with a non-typical shape. Pleased cannot describe how I feel.

The cauldron is in poor shape and I had to do some creative Googling to find a site about how to clean and season a cauldron. Really, any site about caring for cast iron would have worked, but I wanted a witchy perspective. I found this wonderful site.

First order of business: scrub a dub dub with an SOS pad and tons of elbow grease; the interior is nasty. Then wash. Then season. Then dedicate in my Samhain ceremony. How perfect is it that my new tool arrived just in time for the holiest of our Sabbats?

The wheel of the year has turned again and Samhain is once more upon us. A year that has felt like at least three is over and a new one dawns, filled promise, passion, and purpose.

This year's lesson is best summed up by Khalil Gibran:

The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.

This Witch's chalice runneth over.

A Rainy October Day...

I attended my second Catholic funeral today, so now I have a measure of comparison. They were both very similar, so I can say this, generally, about Catholic funerals:

-they're very good exercise: you stand, sit, stand, kneel, stand, sit, kneel, sit, stand, sit, etc., and then the practitioners have to go all the way up to the front of the church for the little bread thingie and come all the way back. Oh, and there's some genuflecting involved whenever they pass the altar;

-the prayers are lovely (I'm very partial to Psalm 23);

-the music is lovely (I particularly enjoyed 'Amazing Grace' on a violin today);

-Catholics use 'tu' when speaking to their god??? I didn't realise that they use that level of informality with him;

-incense is used for the same reason Wiccans use it; to carry our prayers to the deity on the smoke;

-they pass around a plate for donations (thankfully, I had some change on me to contribute).

A colleague thought that I was a 'lapsed' Catholic and was therefore surprised by my level of unfamiliarity with the rituals. I informed her that I was raised by the atheist branch of my Catholic family. :-)

Proselytism

Coming home from work this evening, I was approached by two men in well cut, sombre suits. They were holding Bibles and very intent on my 'accepting Jesus Christ as my savior.'

I understand that proselytism is a very important aspect of certain Christian sects. I can even accept that they won't take no for an answer because they genuinely believe my soul is in peril. I see some people who immediately brush off this proselytizers, and quite rudely. I, however, have no idea how to handle this sort of situation. I generally say something along the lines of "I know you need to do this, but I'm not looking to change faiths. Please move on." This tends to work in a scenario such as the one I encountered this afternoon.

Then there are cases like I had at my old house, where very persistent Jehovah's Witnesses kept on knocking. Three times, I opened the door to them and politely told them that I was not interested in changing my faith. The fourth time, I had enough and told them flat out "I'm a Witch and while I'm sure Christ was a very nice man, I have no need for him to save me." Horrified, they scurried off... only to return two weeks later!!! I pretended to not be home that day and once they left, I put a protection and banishment spell around my property! That worked, but I find it a tad extreme!

How do I balance my belief that it is the right of certain Christians to proselytize (even if I am personally against this practise) with my belief that I have a right to have my no taken as an answer? At which point does asserting my own religious beliefs stomp on that of others and become intolerance? Is it possible to be too tolerant?

My problem, I think, is that while there are certain beliefs which are absolutes and the only valid ones for me, I have no doubt of the validity of conflicting beliefs for others. So, I have a hard time understanding someone who doesn't get that I find their beliefs valid, have no desire to change mine, and cannot see things the same way.

If any of that makes any sense at all....

Summer's End...

It's been a most peculiar summer.

I had my breast reduction surgery immediately upon returning from my delightful, if not particularly frugal, vacation. I'd recommend the surgery to anyone whose quality of life is diminished by their breasts. Recovery is slow and humbling, however, as I can barely exercise and I need help to do such basic things has grocery shopping and house cleaning.

My two months off from work were busy indeed, even despite the fact that I was recovering from surgery. I wrote chapter upon chapter of my novel, started work on my Book of Shadows, reread all the Harry Potter novels, took small day trips to neighbouring villages, made use of free admission times at local museums, and more.

Of course, I continued my Wiccan education, reading some 'classics.' Last night, I finished Starhawk's The Spiral Dance. Tonight, I start Margo Adler's Drawing Down the Moon. One thing I have taken away from my readings is that I feel empty and purposeless because I am not serving the gods and I am working in complete solitude. I've come up with a couple of ideas on how to rectify that once I'm completely healed.

One of my favourite things I did was adopt a new cat!!! I went to the Humane Society with my list of criteria and was surprised to find a cat who matched those criteria exactly! He's a sweet seven year old brown tabby who fits into my household much better than my last cat did. His sister is slowly getting used to the idea of not having me to herself again. :-) The Humane Society loves me. Apparently, very few people walk in and say: "Hi, I'm looking for a cat. It has to be at least five years old, but seven to nine would be ideal, and I'd be willing to consider up to twelve."

The return to work has been brutal and I intend to make some major changes to my schedule come September. I don't want to quit this job, however. I think my supervisor will agree with the idea I came up with for keeping this job and still having time to do meaningful work. Some of this will depend on my meeting with a financial advisor in early September. I've been coasting along financially since late spring and I see the freedom trickling away. It's time to rein it in and come up with a plan I can live with and goals I can look forward to.

Yet Another New Level

I went book shopping today at both amazon.ca and at the local Chapters, seeking out books by Wiccan 'elders', picking up a copy of Starhawk's The Spiral Dance, Margot Adler's Drawing Down the Moon, and Isaac Bonewit's Essential Guide to Witchcraft and Wicca. I'm no longer focussed on what Wicca is to me, but, rather, what it is to others, as well as its true historical roots. In other words, I've now finally turned an academic eye to my Wiccan studies.

I am content with the way I live Wicca and the direction I am taking with my faith. But I find that my knowledge is too self-centred, too focused on what I feel inside. I have a hard time externalizing my beliefs. At first, I thought that was not necessary. But the broom closet becomes stuffier and stuffier and I think that I will eventually have no choice but come out of it to my family.

My extended family (especially my grand-mother) is devoutly Catholic while my immediate family (especially my mother) seems agnostic, maybe even atheist. I know that my grand-mother will understand, if she wants, my description of religious revelation, but my mother will want a much more academic, even 'lay' description of my beliefs. I need to be able to show that my beliefs didn't materialize out of thin air, that they have a history, that they are 'legitimate.'

This weekend, I attended a baptism for my nephew. He was baptized not because of his parents' personal beliefs, but, rather, because of family pressure. I'd like my beliefs to be known ahead of such events, so that my grand-mother won't faint should I ever be handfasted, or my mother be completely flummoxed by the death celebration ritual I have prepared.

Reading Being a Pagan, a collection of interviews with Pagans, I now have a greater sense of my own faith, seeing that while I do have an individual, even unique, take on it, my foundation is no different than that of those who follow a Druid, Astaru, or Faery path.

Most truthfully, though, I am getting lonely and am eager to reach out to the pagan community at a gathering of some sort and I'd like to be able to show up knowing that I'm not completely misguided in thinking of myself as 'Wiccan' and that others I meet will find me a kindred spirit.

The more I read the more I see that, a) I am most definitely Wiccan; b) I am most definitely following an uncommon path; and c) there is a definite (and desperate) need for Tameran Wicca literature.

Wiccan hazards no one warned me about...

I think I was a little too enthusiastic in my prayers tonight since I set my Book of Shadows on fire. I had to pause in the middle of my invocation to Lord Osiris to beat my BoS on my altar to put out the flames!!!

I suppose that's one way to create a Beltane bonfire....

At any rate, neither my BoS nor my altar (nor me, for that matter) is any the worse for wear.

Speaking of my BoS, I've treated myself to a grimoire from Brahm's Bookworks. It should be arriving in about six weeks. Even though they offer an 'Egyptian' grimoire, I picked out the Witch's Grimoire (tm), finding the Egyptian one 'too busy.' Also, the WG seemed to better represent the whole of me--a Wiccan AND Witch. An Egyptian-themed BoS would only highlight a tiny part of my faith. I didn't order the 'grand tome' because I found the size too unwieldy for practical application. I figure that when I fill my first grimoire, I'll then order the 'Egyptian' one. At that point, I'll probably use the first grimoire for my Witchcrafty stuff and the Egyptian one for the Wiccan stuff. At least, if the pages are as easy to manipulate as the site claims. At any rate, I've wanted one of Brahm and Robyn's grimoires for ages now and I can't wait to hold it in my hands!

Purification

One of the very first things I did after taking possession of my new home was to complete a purification.

I began by inviting and welcoming my gods into my home and asked them to overlook the purification and bless my new abode.

Then, I adapted Scott Cunningham's four elements purification as described in his book The Magical Household. I will obviously not reproduce the spell here (get a copy of the book, it is excellent), but I will describe the slight modifications I made.

My new home has three stories, which include a hard to access basement. So, I did the purge on the two levels to start. With each pass, the 1st and 2nd stories felt brighter and more homey, while the basement began to feel sinister. When I was done purifying the two levels, I then used a bit of each of the elements to do one pass through the basement. I carefully shone a light into all the dark corners of that creepy place until it felt like my own private dungeon. When I was done, the whole house seemed new and clean and my own. I then tossed my used supplies out the back door to purify my outdoor space. I should point out here that the 'supplies' included some salt water, a bit of burnt candlewick, and some incence ashes, nothing that is too environmentally damaging.

I cannot over emphasize the importance of spiritually purifying your new home, and updating that purification whenever you feel that negative energy has settled into neglected corners.

Tomorrow, I will do a sort of reverse purification at my old home as I sweep it clean of all the residual energy from my old life to prepare the home for new owners.

Suffer Not a Witch

Do I, as a Witch, have a moral and ethical obligation to inform the devout Christians in my entourage that I am a Witch?

I did my volunteer shift at the annual book show with the same person as last year, a devout, Bible-thumping, very sweet lady who really, really likes me. Last year, I hardly knew her, but I got a taste for what is acceptable to her through the books she perused. This year, I got a much clearer answer to a question that's been plaguing me--should I come out of the broom closet to her? For one thing, she has invited me into her home on several occasions and seems to be under the assumption that I am Christian. I haven't done anything to encourage or discourage this belief. She'll probably freak out to learn that I am a pagan!

We passed a kiosk today set up by a local religious publisher. She gasped suddenly and said that her esteem of them just about went down because she saw some kids books about witches (the green kind with a big warty nose who ride broomsticks)... until she realised that the witchy books belonged to another publisher.

Combine that with her opinion of Harry Potter (magic=bad) and I know now that if I come out to her as a Wiccan, Witch, and practitioner of the white arts she will have an issue with that. I doubt that she would try to make my life 'difficult' because she seems to have a good soul, but I'm sure that she will feel betrayed.

So, I ask again, do I have a moral and ethical obligation to her to let her know what I am so that she can choose whether or not to literally honour what her faith tells her she should do with me? The Rede doesn't help me much. I mean, do I cause her more harm by not telling her, or by telling her?

This is the first time that my 'unorthodox' faith weighs heavy on my heart, that I realise the damage it can cause, the sacrifices it requires. Wicca is, truly, a contrary religion, almost as much a curse as it is a blessing, in fact. For I did not choose this, and I wonder why I was chosen.

Sources of Wisdom--Coq à l'âning

Today's Most Serious Project is making the house presentable enough for people to come over and get some of the furniture I advertised... and clearing pathways for said furniture to get to the front door. :-)

My thoughts meander as I do such mindless work, doing 'coq à l'âne' as we French say, going from idea to idea, each loosely related by a common thought. I began to think of which volunteer shift I would be getting this weekend. My volunteer work is as a medical first responder, doing first aid at various events in the area. This thought made me think, with a smile, of something a friend said, that we first aid volunteers are like creepy vultures hovering around for someone to get hurt.

Which made me wonder, why do I do it?

It's not really that I enjoy it, but, rather, that I'm good at it. I've found so few things in life that I seem born to do, so few things that come naturally. There is only one thing that I truly believe I was divinely called to do--Witchcraft.

The Creation Story I adhere to speaks of the birth of Witches. The whole of it is too precious to cite only bits. But I can say that no religious work has ever spoken so deeply to me, for it speaks of Truths I discovered on my own.

There are times I wish that Wicca had a holy book of its own, and then I remember how lucky I am to be able to make my own holy book, my Book of Shadows. Because I firmly believe that all religions are expressions of the same God and Goddess forces, I can choose to find wisdom in their writings, just as I find wisdom in lay sources. My Book of Shadows is an interesting hodgepodge of poetry, psalms, prayers, essays, and quotes, the sources of which may amuse some.

The Bible is one of my favourite sources of wisdom. I have come to the conclusion that the God of the Bible, the 'Lord', Yahweh, Jehovah, whatever his name is perceived to be, is a god I have come to know as the Aten. To my surprise, scholars have reached the same conclusion.

I choose not to honour the Aten because I find him to be a petty, malicious, selfish, and uncaring god unworthy of the love and devotion of so many devout followers. I choose not to honour his words because they are hollow to me. But the words of those who do honour him are no less wise for the god they honour, for divine faith alone has worth, even if the god honoured is not worthy of that faith.

(If any of that makes any sense at all....)

I've read the Bible cover to cover three times, so my impression of the Aten is my own, founded, opinion. Because I have come to know his word so well, I am no longer surprised by the horrors committed in his name and am all the more impressed by those who lead selfless and honourable lives in spite of his example. The Bible is truly a contrary text and I pity those who have never read it, for it is filled with the stuff of life--humour, romance, horror, sex (incest, lots of incest), action, violence (gore, lots of gore), gentleness, cynicism, wisdom.... Too many are intimidated by this text. Remember, it is just a book and holds only as much and power and magic as you are willing to allow it to have.

Brahm's Bookworks offers truly stunning Grimoires and I look forward to purchasing one, then lovingly transcribing into it, in that awful handwriting of mine, all the bits of wisdom I've collected over the years, even in the time before I was Wiccan and Witch, all the little truths I've come to know about this universe. Now that will be a book of power and magic... that I only I will perceive. For all others, it'll just be another book.

Not Counting Hours, But Almost!

This day in exactly one month, I'll be getting the keys to my new house! I can't wait!!!

It'll be strange to be a renter again after being a homeowner for the past three years, but I look forward to it! Next time I choose to be a homeowner, it'll be of a home that only needs minor work. I never, ever want to live in chaos for three years straight with no end in sight. It's like that Non-Sequitur cartoon I have hanging on my cubicle wall that offers a man two different hells--burning for eternity or living in his house while it's being remodeled.... and he thinks that it's pretty much a coin flip. Yep.

That said, I don't regret the past three years. I've learned so much! My father had a lot to do with what I learned and my happiest recent memories of him are of the work we did on the house before he fell ill.

I'm trying to get rid of a lot of furniture before I move because I now refuse to have anything in my home that I don't whole-heartedly love. I've tried Freecycle and received a lot of hits, but my first visit was a no-show at 6:30 this morning. Not impressed. When I move, I plan to buy brand new bookshelves so they're all the same (unless I get really lucky at the used furniture places in my new neighbourhood), but the rest, including a new-to-me bedroom set will wait. I was going to go the Ikea route, but that just makes me heart-sick. I couldn't figure out how I was supposed to know how many bookshelves I need until I had an epiphany--measure how many feet of shelf I currently have. I, erm, stopped at 60. I love books. :-)

One of the things I love about moving is that it forces you to evaluate what you own and uncovers new things (for example that I need to organize my ritual supplies a bit better when several days of packing and many pleas to Anubis (and St-Anthony, for good measure) have failed to turn up my favourite spellbook). I'm surprised that I don't have a lot of 'junk' left now. I had a packrat epiphany when I moved into this house that my stuff owned me and I did a massive purge, something that I turned into an annual event. Now, I walk the fine line between been an obsessive purger like my dad and having nothing 'sentimental' left, and being a packrat who never lets go of anything. I'm doing pretty well. My current house is a mess because I have no place to put anything, not because I have a lot of junk.

So my next house, with all its storage should, technically, be neater. I've moved several times in the past 9 years and each time made the same mistake of living out of boxes while I got used to my space and could determine where things should go. Since I wasn't in those places more than a year or two, I never got 'organized' and never had a neat place (except for my first, darling, apartment). I'm going to be in my new house at least 18 mos and I plan to get unpacked right away. I look forward to an Ikea shopping spree for organizational products like baskets. Ikea does have its place in my life, but I couldn't imagine a home full of Ikea furniture.

I get the keys April 1st and hope to move sometime around the 16th, since it's cheaper to move mid-month and on a weekday. I'm in no hurry to leave my current house, so I'll have time to clean my new place, measure, and bring over the awkward stuff I don't want movers to bring. My bro-in-law will be arriving from the Metropolis on the first with some things from my dad, plus a couch my mother has generously donated to replace my cat-destroyed loveseat (I'm not too worried about the new couch since the old one was destroyed by my beloved cat-son who died two days after Yule last year. But that's another story). So, even if I don't have all my 'stuff' at the new house right away, I'll be able to sleep there comfortably the first couple of weeks. I'll be motivated to do this because my current house is 1 hour away from work by car while my new house is 8 minutes away from work on foot. :-)

31 days and counting!

One door closes... and the whole of the universe beckons

My father died three weeks ago.

It was expected and I was blessed to have had the privilege of making my peace with any unresolved issues we had before he left. I was there in his final days, caring and nursing for him, assuring him that it was okay to move on to the next part of his life, to sail to a better and easier place.

He did not have a good life. It was one of limitations, abuse, toil, disillusionment, and bitterness. But the little joys he did have, he savoured. His accomplishment was His Girls, who learned from his lessons and built a richer, happier existence for themselves. When he knew that he would be sailing in short order, he was able to accept this because he would be leaving His Girls enough to build a solid foundation for their lives. He wanted us to truly live, to see and do things, to have a lot of stories to tell him when we met up with him again on our own journey to the next realm.

My father worried about me a lot, living as I did in the middle of nowhere with a long commute to work. He was pleased to learn in his final weeks that I'd finally made the decision to return to The City. During his final lucid hours, three days before he sailed, we spoke giddily about the new urban life I would be starting, the pretty house that would be a far cry from the mousehole I was currently miserable in, the extra time I would have now that I would not have a commute. He made me promise that I would make good use of what he was leaving me, buy a house, travel, have something to show for his life as reflected through my own values and dreams. We made plans for the future even when we knew that we would soon be separated, not knowing when our souls would be reunited.

The last five years have been very difficult for me, the last two easier, since I've embraced my faith. I'm currently in the process of making up for years of money mismanaging and have a plan for getting myself out of debt by 2012 (not including a mortgage) and a looser plan to retire by the time I'm 45. My father's death has brought forth options in 2007 that I thought would not be available until 2010 at the earliest. I plan to make full use of them.

My new life begins April 1st and I am giddily planning for it. Now that I will not be wasting so much time commuting and repairing plumbing (especially since I lost my 24 hour plumbing helpline), I want to go back to the urban lifestyle I had late last century, when I had time for homemaking endeavours and the world still seemed filled with possibilities instead of limitations.

My goals for the next year are simple: to start and keep a housecleaning routine, to cook more, to be more proactive in my faith, to continue paying off debt and build up my savings, to be more frugal, and to travel.

I've always journalled and I'm hoping this blog will serve as a chronicle of my journey.