Everyday Rituals

In every household I've ever been in, there have been small rituals, family traditions, things some folks might call eccentricities, observed and performed. Oftentimes, without a conscientious thought or effort. Things like humming while cooking, always adding a particular herb or oil to a food or cleaning solution because that's how it's always been. Planting particular herbs or flowers near the garden gate and kitchen door, hanging windchimes in the trees, whispering to the winds, singing while you clean or always having salt on the table for each and every meal.

Little things that to the person doing them, are simply the way things are done. Little things that bring bits of magic and intention to our day to day lives and in some cases, keep folk and family traditions alive.

Happy little green witch and friend, Jen over at Rue and Hyssop wrote about hers recently, calling them "Little Witcheries". I like that phrase to describe the small ways in which we encourage magic to visit our homes and lives and I was amazed by the fact that she and I do some of the very same things, without ever having spoken of them previously. Her post has inspired me to share my own everyday rituals and traditions here, borrowing her idea to break them in to categories. Thank you, Jen, for the inspiration!

*Cleaning*

* I take a very green approach to cleaning, trying to avoid chemicals as much as possible. When cleaning counters or windows, I use a solution of water, vinegar and a few splashes of Four Thieves vinegar to add an extra bit of magical cleansing and protection (from disease on the countertops, intruders at the windows.)
* Never, ever run out of vinegar.
* Singing, shimmying or chanting while I clean to drum up the energies.
* Once windows and doors have been cleaned, draw refreshed sigils of protection on them.
* When sweeping, sweep towards the doorway or edge of the room, rather than the center, to send negativity packing along with the dirt.

*Kitchen*

* Kitchen witches abound.
* A candle is lit when I work. I sprinkle herbs in to the warm, soft wax sometimes.
* I use only wooden spoons to stir or move things in the pan. There's spirit and life and memory in them, not the unfeeling rigidity of metal or plastic.
* A chipped blue crockery cauldron and spoon wand reside in the kitchen, used for offerings and quick kitchen spell work.
* I stir food in a clockwise direction, to bring nourishment, contentment (and sometimes a little added magic via particular herbs) in to our lives and bellies. I stir the same way with concoctions where I wish to draw something in. I stir counter-clockwise when I want to send something packing; when I make soup for a cold, add honey to tea for a sore throat or create a concoction to release or banish something.
* I sip my morning coffee at the kitchen table, facing out the large picture window at the backyard. I greet the Sun as he shines his light on dewy rose petals and take in the visiting birds, squirrels and rabbits as they pilfer the kitchen garden. On rare occasions (due primarily to horrendous mosquitoes this year) I'll move my coffee ritual to the patio table.
* I loathe, hate and detest a messy kitchen. Clutter on the table and crap on the counters is a surefire way to put me in a horrendously sour mood and I will remain so until it is once more gleaming. Typically, I work best within, what I like to call, organized Chaos. Not true in the kitchen.

*General Home*

* Always have a candle burning in the heart of the home when company is visiting.
* A wreath on the front door welcomes friends and family and attracts prosperity.
* There are symbols of protection on each and every entrance point in my home, drawn on with a special herb and oil mixture, full moon ocean water or my saliva, depending on what's handy and what feels natural at that moment.
* Gargoyles are placed at the entrances to keep away the nasties. Leave your shit with him, please.
* In the bedroom, there are stones and talismans placed in, above and around the bed to ward my sleep. As someone who used to have nightmares nightly, often waking up breathing heavily, sweating or weeping, these are some of the most important bits of magic that exist in my home. Now my dreams are often incredibly bizarre, but I'm no longer waking up covered in sweat, tears or on rare occasions when I've hurt myself... blood.
* There are acorns all over my house. There are also crystals, stones and dried herbs placed all over as well.

*Yard/Garden*

* I leave offerings and libations to the plants, spirits of nature and the fae in my gardens. Usually, honeyed milk, wine, pretty stones, shells and sparkly baubles.
* I whisper and sing to the plants. As I plant the seeds or baby plant, I will whisper my blessings to them. When I tend them, I will hum or sing over them... sometimes I will talk to them as I would an old friend. When I prune them, I explain why I am doing so and ask the plant to help guide me so that I may do it greater good than harm. And when I harvest them, I give them gratitude for their sacrifice.
* When I walk the yard, I touch the leaves and branches of the trees who enjoy it and acknowledge the others by stopping beneath them to gaze at their beauty and speak to them.

I'm a salt tossing, wood-knocking, sky-watcher. Some would call me eccentric, others may call me superstitious or even, in some circles, old fashioned. All of the little things that I do, listed here and not, are ingrained in me for better or worse. Picked up through the years out of observation, superstition, folk tradition or guided by my own heart.

Eclectic, yet cozy and familiar.

The sugar bowl is always out, lavender is planted for luck, a kiss from a bee is a very lucky omen, storms are rolling in when the leaves show their undersides and wishes made on dandelion seeds often come true.

What everyday ritual and little witcheries do you do?

Emotional Rhythms

Up and down, round and round. Like the Great Wheel of Nature, the rhythms of the seasons, my emotions move in a somewhat (and I emphasize somewhat) predictable cycle. My cycles of spiritual practice, seem to coincide with my emotions to a certain degree as well; but not always.

Right now, I can feel myself sitting at the lower part of an emotional valley. Not depressed, luckily, just feeling off; like a combination of "meh" and wanting to move in to the woods and become a hermit. I'm introverting to a heavy degree, needing a lot of space and time to myself and my thoughts, wanting to just cocoon up in my house, my yard and my bed. It feels like Winter in my spirit despite the hot sunshine outside. But, as is so often the case when one gets in to these sorts of moods, well intentioned friends are refusing to simply let me do that and it is driving me deeper and deeper in to the floor of the downward curve. I shut off my phone and avoid social media as much as I can, but that only makes them worry about me, or freak out and assume I'm mad at them. No amount of saying "Guys, I'm fine. I just don't want to talk or hang out right now." seems to help. The downside to being open, like really open because I don't like to hide any aspect of myself, about the fact that you live with depression and also happen to be an introvert is that people tend to worry more frequently and with much less provocation than they would if you were... say, a normal introvert. And while I am grateful and lucky to have so many caring people in my life, I really wish they'd listen to me and get off my ass. If I'm not worried, If my husband isn't worried, then just give me space and quit poking and prodding. You wouldn't do this to a bear you found hibernating.

But, I'm not a wild animal and I digress.

Usually, this point in my emotional wheel coincides with Winter. Short days, long nights, lots of gray skies and time indoors caused by the cold; makes perfect sense. This year, however, has been different. It started with hibernation in Autumn and an awakening in the Winter, right at Yule. My energy levels were high and I ran myself ragged through the Spring and early Summer. Unusual as well is that while I did so, my spiritual practice entered what I called a time of knowing, a pause in my desire to push forward, celebrate and learn and to instead, take a break and sit on my haunches for a bit. Ostara, Beltane and Litha passed; barely observed as more than a gentle acknowledgement that the great Wheel was indeed still turning. Odd, because usually the Spring sabbats set my soul a buzzing as my energetic levels are extremely high. But, as they passed by and the days grew hotter, muggier and the mosquitoes chased me inside with 25 bites after a measly 5 minutes outside; my emotional cycle spun around to the lower half of the wheel. The darker, introspective half.

A note here: When I say 'dark', I am not implying gloomy, depressing, miserable, etc. Much like there is a light and dark side of the seasons, there are similar sides to a soul and a personality. Some of us have longer or shorter ones, depending on our own unique emotional makeup. So again, I must stress so no one worries and annoys me further (yes, this post is coming as much from a place of annoyance as it is reflection), this isn't depression. When that happens, I own it, rock it and get the fuck through it.

And even more oddly, as I'm sitting at the bottom of this smooth, cool curve, lounging about with me, myself and I, the call home to the altar is loud. The whispers to clean, reconsecrate and come back to practice are strong. My intuitive wheels are spinning; my eyes spot several signs of coming change, my ears rejoice in the call of Grandmother Crow and the sound of winds in heavy Summer laden branches. I can feel the wheel spinning back around, slowly to the light and a more lighthearted, external emotional state as Lughnassadh approaches.

And as it does so I wonder at the change in my usually predictable, seasonally affected, cycles. It feels almost like the wheel is spinning in reverse for me here, in the much hotter Southern climate. It's as if longer days don't mean more time outside as they have most of my life, but quite the opposite due to oppressive humidity, heat and blood sucking pests. And while I wonder, I'm also learning to embrace these new cycles as I look, as always, forward to Autumn's arrival and a bit of delicious normalcy.

Have any of you moved to radically different climates and had your emotional or spiritual cycles switch around on you? I'm curious, because growing up in the North, seasons behaved as you were taught and expected them to. Now that I'm living someplace so drastically different, my head and heart are clinging to all the things they feel to be true about the seasons, but my body is very definitely aware of the fact that things don't work like that here. And the two are having some issues reconciling it all.

Homecoming of the Spirit

If there is one constant in my blog habits, one thing that always rings true about my blog circle, it is that when I visit Aine at The Deepest Well, I find words that make me think, make me feel deeply or that are the exact thing I needed to hear without knowing it until it happened. Regardless of whether I comment, I always have thoughts bubbling in my head after I read Aine's writings. Today is no different except that I have enough thoughts bubbling around after reading A Time of Knowing that I didn't want to leave a novel in her comments.

Thank you Aine, for the inspiration to write.

Always, there seem to be trends among circles of peers and similar thinkers. Like others in this circle of witches and writers, pagans and thinkers, I have not written much about my spirituality of late; save for the occasional full moon or sabbat posting.

The truth of the matter is, there hasn't been much to write about because I've taken a break from learning, reading, growing and exploring. I've been lounging in my spiritual hammock in the shade of a familiar old grove I've seen many times on my path. To use Aine's words, I'm in a time of knowing.

Ruthlessly trusting my intuition, my knowing without reason, is something I've been working towards in other aspects of my life for nearly a year now. It started with art; baby steps back in to a place within myself I didn't question when I was a babe but grew mistrustful and jaded towards as I became older. Then it trickled in to other aspects of my life; relationships, jobs, how I spend my free time. That last one sounds a bit odd, but when one has been reared in a society that sees time not being outwardly productive as wasted, one needs to work hard to relax and breath when one's body/intuition begs them to do so.

And so, it's only natural that as I begin to retrace steps back in to that place of just knowing in other aspects of my life, that it would eventually become a part of my spiritual path. After all, as a highly eclectic human, compartmentalizing aspects of my life or myself has never worked out very well.

And so, I've stopped searching. I've quit reading and researching. The forks in the road have disappeared for the time being. Does this mean they'll never resume? No, not at all. To me, the reading, the searching, the setting out on new paths are very much like the spirit's version of bodily travel. Physically, we take trips to explore, to experience new things, see new sights and meet new people. To grow and to fill ourselves with knowledge, opinions and experiences we can't get if we stand still. But, these trips typically have a circular conclusion; Homecoming.

Right back where you've always belonged, right where you began. Sometimes, it just seems to take a long, winding route to get there. In a spiritual sense, sometimes it takes a lot of searching, reading and walking new paths to recognize and trust in what you know, rather than what you wish to believe. So many believe things are better elsewhere, that other methods are better than their own. That these thoughts or those practices are somehow holier or more spiritual. And they think that if they believe so ardently, then it is true. In the end, after the trials and travels, many of them end up knowing that this isn't the case.

I'm not saying this is the case for everyone's spiritual (or life) path as I can only speak to my own experiences. While I haven't been on this path as long as some, it seems to me that no matter what I learn and try, no matter what I read and think, it's the things I've always known, deep in the bones of my admittedly short life, that I keep coming back to. The things that work best and resonate deepest with me are those that I know, rather than those I believe.

These are the things that I always come home to. The simple truths housed in my intuition. The quiet, spirit led rituals. Concoctions and spell work advised from an unexplainable knowing rather than advice, a ledger or a grimoire. After connecting with many spirits, deities, paths and customs it is back to the Gods of my youth, to the spirits of the wildwood, the gifts and teachings of Earth, Sea and Sky that I've come back to. I'm reigning myself back in, regrouping and recharging after years of stretching myself incredibly thin on a quest for knowledge, growth and deeper spiritual wisdom.

My path has circled back and I've come Home.

Staying the Path Part 2: Ritual and Altar

First, I want to thank everyone for their honest and thoughtful comments and posts regarding Staying the Path Part 1: Deities. I'm always fascinated by both the parallels and divides found between people's individual paths as well as how different people relate to what they consider to be divinity. If you haven't shared your thoughts and would like to, please do so!

As I mentioned in my previous posting, I find that I am able to stay my spiritual path because it is flexible and changeable. I don't need to cling to outdated ideas and methods that no longer serve me, I can transition and my path will wend and wind differently to open up new avenues to me. This has been the case with my relationship to Deity and it has been even more so true when it comes to my approach to ritual.

When I first put a title to the feelings I've carried, unnamed, since youth I threw myself into book after book in the library's 'New Age' section. I devoured any and every text I could lay hands on, which admittedly, was sort of slim pickings mostly revolving around Wicca and Astral Projection. Having always been a bookworm and having long been enchanted by fairy tales, folk lore and mythology I had some vague sense of what I was looking for but none of that was mirrored in these books. Somehow, and I think it was the excitement of having even some of my feelings validated, I didn't let that get to me.

And so, I let that innate knowledge I'd gathered from my other readings slip away and began to do things by the book. As a solitary and the only pagan I knew of, I had no one to turn to for advice or teaching. We were still in the stone ages of dial-up internet and sparkly personal Geocities web pages. Those tangible bound pages were all I had to learn from and so, I did my level best to follow their tutelage.

I can remember being vaguely paranoid at the time that my parents would find out I was practicing 'the craft' and would flip the fuck out on me and played all manner of other terrible, scary scenarios in my teenaged brain. Thinking back, I don't think some of the books helped with this paranoia as many of them had passages on people finding Wicca to be scary and others had chapters devoted to keeping it a big secret. In any event, this paranoia made me incapable of leaving up a permanent altar or looking for what I needed to create one openly. I gathered what I could, a small knife, a ceramic cauldron that I'm sure was from Hallowe'en, candles, incense, a small bell, a fancy book to write in and kept it all in my underwear drawer. Where else do you hide things from the world when you're a teen and you live at home?

When I did set up my altar, on full moons, new moons and sabbats, it was set up exactly like the diagram in the book. Dead center of my bedroom on a little table, elemental candles in their proper places, things related to the God on his side and things related to the Goddess on the other. I lit my candles, walked around that circle several times with my salt water, incense and sword. I can remember twinges of doubt that I didn't have the right stuff, that my tools weren't elaborate enough, that I didn't have statues and that all I had to pour into the chalice at the time for cakes and ale was a wine cooler - probably pina colada flavored, since again I was an uninformed teenager and when the book said wine I wasn't about to swap it out for spiced rum! (Yes, I had booze stashed in my drawer with my ritual tools, there wasn't much room for underwear for a bit!)

I did everything as I was told, read the words that were written, made the proper gestures and got the offerings as close as I could and.... I waited to feel something. Anything. But I never did. And I'm not going to lie, it was sort of brutal as far as let downs go. All I had done before to feel connected was pray and talk to the Gods but now that I was following the elaborate rituals in the books to honor them they were silent afterwards. Even my beloved Artemis and Hermes were mum. Those twinges of doubt became full blown feelings of failure and after a year of nothing, I packed everything away and felt spiritually lost once more. If what I felt in my heart was similar to the things written in these books, then why wasn't I able to connect or feel maybe just a little something? Ritual left me feeling a bit tense, a bit drained and honestly? I didn't really enjoy doing it as much as I had expected to. And admitting that made me feel terrible. Like I had forsaken the Gods who had brought me through childhood into Adulthood.

I gave up everything when I packed that stuff away. No more card reading, no more calling on the Olympians, no more calling myself a pagan. In a fit of depression and anger, I locked my spirituality up and pretended it didn't exist. This lasted a few years and brought me into my early 20's. The age of good internet connection speeds, the online blogging explosion via Livejournal and bookstores popping up like mushrooms after a solid rain.

Through an afternoon's perusing of Borders, I found that the 'New Age' section had grown up. Now it included all manner of books not just based in Wicca, but in Witchcraft, Polytheism, Shamanism and things I had never even heard of before. I immediately began going there on my lunch breaks to read books at the cafe tables. As a poor college student I couldn't afford to buy them but I could pick up some good points in an hour's time to take home and research online. Again, there were the heavily choreographed rituals with their very specific layouts but there was also something new interwoven amidst all that; the notion to follow your gut and not to do something if it doesn't connect you to your higher power or if you just plain don't like it. I was floored and honestly, a little pissed off that I had let go of my intuitive nature years before. Here was the freedom I needed, the validation that in not enjoying ceremonial ritual there was nothing wrong with me. Immediately I wanted to smack myself upside my own head for being so fucking stupid and when I looked up from the book on the table, for the first time in 4 years, there was Hermes smirking at me across the table.

Now my altar is set up however I want it to be set up and it changes not just seasonally, but whenever I feel called to do so. I don't crowd things on there that mean nothing to me, no heaps of tumbled stones, no fancy knives or expensive cauldrons that I would feel horror at burning something in. It houses my practical tools; the old cast iron cauldron, the wand I made from a stick my husband brought home because he thought I'd like it(I did), a shell and a bull's horn, keys, feathers, bones, coins and sometimes artwork depicting the deities I'm working with or honoring at that time. I work and worship at this altar, it isn't just a display of pretty objects to be dusted on occasion. And most importantly, it no longer hides in my underwear drawer! It now permanently resides in my bedroom, where it is the first thing I see upon waking and the last thing I see before sleeping.

When it comes to ritual now, I've let go of keeping it scripted and choreographed. The biggest difference for me these days is that I almost never cast a circle now and when I do, it is almost nothing like the ones I used to. For me, ritual can be as simple as saying a few words of praise or gratitude under the light of the moon or over a candle or as elaborate as setting up the altar, lighting candles, burning incense and making it a bit more ceremonious. I go with my gut and I no longer force myself to do things just for the sake of doing them; the Gods and Spirits won't be offended if I go to bed with a headache on the night of a sabbat rather than half assing a ritual that my heart isn't behind. Whatever I do and whatever words I say though, come directly from my own heart and spirit, not from a book. On the rare occasion that I do find a ritual that speaks to me, that I love and feel called to perform, I will tweak it to make it my own - whether that be through timing, offerings, magic work done during or the wording of it.

These days, ritual is a very personal and very heartfelt thing and it connects me to those I work with and worship in a stronger fashion than I've ever experienced before. When I finish, I find myself relaxed, tired, tingly and most importantly, I have felt something.

So lovelies, to continue our conversation, let's discuss your take on ritual and altars. Do you have an altar? Let's hear about it/them and how you use it! Do you perform rituals and if so, how do you do so? Do you prefer the ceremonial approach or do you fly by the seat of your pants? Or, do you fall somewhere in the middle? How have your feelings towards these things changed as you've walked your path?

Just a quick note to add, I don't find anything wrong with Wicca, or ceremonial ritual and I hope that in recounting my own experiences I haven't given off that impression. While I know that it works extremely well for some people, the opposite is true for me. And while some of you may scoff at my wild witch ways, they work extremely well for me.

As this post has gotten very, very long, I will touch on magic in yet another post. I hope you'll come back and weigh in on that one as well!

Staying the Path Part 1: Deities

A little while ago, Aine over at The Deepest Well was thinking about the great amount of people walking a pagan path and wondering how many stay on it for the long haul and if it isn't just a passing phase for a good number of people.

This led me to think about my own path, the way I walk it and how long I've been on it. The thing about this sort of spiritual journey is, unlike most organized religions I've come to know, it's changeable and transitional. It will grow and change as you learn more and grow and change yourself.

In the past, I've written a little about my beginnings on this path; about finding the Olympians in a book when I was maybe 7 or 8 and how their stories moved something in my soul. Before I would drift off to sleep at night I would say a prayer to each of them - beginning and ending with Hestia though I knew not why - to simply say hello, thank you, or to ask for guidance on something. Sometimes I would call on one individually just to talk about something that was bothering me or that I didn't understand. As a child, you don't over think these sorts of things, you just talk to your gods like other kids talk to theirs. While I respected each and every one of them, it was Artemis who claimed me as her own. But there was often also a bit of a mischievous laugh and a wink from an adorable curly haired god who I would hide beneath the sheets in the middle of the night with and talk of fun, adventure and dreams.

But, as is often the case, as we grow and we change, so too do our spiritual needs. And as those change, so to will our relationships with deity. Some will end; they might be painful or hurtful, they might fade away in such a way that you feel just fine. Others will change and grow, they will deepen and more will be asked of you. You will be challenged and you will learn. New ones will begin as your direction, leaning and pathwork changes.

Different gods came into my life, from other Pantheons. And though I did (and still do) hold the Greek Pantheon in my heart as my own, I could not deny the calling of others. Each has had something to teach me; be it a story, a habit, a skill or an important off shoot from my path. And while some have stayed with me for years others have only stayed with me for as long as it took to heed their teachings. Some of the relationships have transitioned, the best example being my relationship with Artemis. As I grew and married, I could no longer be one of her chosen. We knew it was going to happen and we were at peace with it when it did. And while she may no longer be the Goddess who has claimed me (that space is currently vacant), she still speaks to me in her aspect of Huntress and Wild Woman and it is she that I petitioned to watch over my sister in childbirth and to keep watch over my niece as she grows. Some, like the one I have with Hermes, have weathered the storms of my life, deepening and changing as I have grown.

Yet there are others still, whose signs have been clear as the sky on a cool Winter night, yet I have only recently realized that they've been calling to me. Not too long ago, I wrote about death and the dying becoming a part of my path and someone who I'd never spoken to previously brought up working with Hecate. I shrugged it off, chalking it up to someone just giving me the 'go-to' goddess of witches, if you will. I'd never felt any pull or inclination to work with her before and I don't tend to just petition whichever god/dess seems like a good fit for something. I forgot all about the comment and became ridiculously enamored of skeleton keys; snatching them up whenever I saw one that felt like it needed to come live with me. I've seen numerous snakes this summer and heard owls constantly. Still, I didn't put the pieces together, I chalk a lot of it up to mundane matters sucking up all of my time. Even after I wrote about the black wolf and the torch bearer and she came up several more times I still didn't get it. It wasn't until a few nights ago, while sleeping, that it finally dawned on me; Hecate is calling to me.

And so, she will be joining my household Deities for however long she deigns to work with me. For my part, I will be reading and researching all that I can on her, her mysteries and mythos and am open to suggestions.

As this has gotten a bit long, I will save my thoughts on rituals, magic and staying my path in a secondary post.

How has your relationship with the spirits, deities, ancestors, etc. changed throughout your journey on this path? How did you find them? Did they call to you and did you, unlike myself, hear them sooner rather than later?

What are your thoughts on staying the pagan path?

P.S. Some have asked over the years if I view the Gods as individual entities or different facets of the two all encompassing entities. I'm a polytheist, so I see them as more or less individuals, although I will say that some of the Gods and Goddesses you find across different cultures and Pantheons are very possibly the same ones bearing different names. For my part, I tend to worship and work with quite a few, though Earth, Sky and Sea are the biggest three (as they are the life givers) along with my Patrons (well, Patron right now.)I work with and am inspired by others, I have love and awe for them but they haven't claimed me. If that makes sense.

Environmentalism and Me

As a dirt worshipping, tree hugger who finds the divine in the shadowed forests, windy mountains and icy waters of our Momma Earth, I strive to protect, help and be a good steward to her. For as long as I've been a pagan, I've also been an environmentalist (aka: my entire life). Here's how Merriam-Webster defines Environmentalism:

en·vi·ron·men·tal·ism
noun
\-ˌvī-rə(n)-ˈmen-tə-ˌli-zəm, -ˌvī(-ə)r(n)-\
Definition of ENVIRONMENTALISM
1 : a theory that views environment rather than heredity as the important factor in the development and especially the cultural and intellectual development of an individual or group
2: advocacy of the preservation, restoration, or improvement of the natural environment; especially : the movement to control pollution

I was raised by parents who taught me to respect Nature and her gifts and not to take them for granted. We always recycled, reused what we could and fixed the things that broke rather than buying new. My childhood was not only spent climbing trees and exploring mucky swamps, but also spent learning about different plants and animals and picking up litter on the side of the road. We were those people, you know the ones, who'd take their daily walk and clean up that stretch of road as they went. As I grew up, I joined my school's environmental club and continued to study the Earth and the issues facing her while continuing to preach the mantra of the three R's (reduce, reuse, recycle) to anyone that would listen.

In the past few years, as I've grown up and out of my parents house I've greened my life even further in an effort to both be healthier myself and to keep my share of nasty chemicals out of the Earth. Food wise, if I can't grow it organically myself due to space constraints or lack of green thumb skills I try to buy it locally and organically grown. I'm looking into joining a CSA in our community that does meat and dairy as well as veggies and eggs but so far they're a bit out of my price range. Failing that, I go to my local Whole Foods or Earth Fare and get it. We're striving hard to keep artificial ingredients and GMO out of our diets so we make the vast majority of our meals here at home, which I will admit doesn't always happen because sometimes I'm so beat after work I just want a damn pizza. But we're getting there.

My house is cleaned top to bottom with vinegar, baking soda and lemons in different ratios that I use for various purposes. Here are some of the things I use for cleaning:

*For streak free windows: Spritz straight white vinegar onto your windows and wipe dry with newspaper from the recycle pile. It can still be recycled and works a hundred and one times better than towels of any sort.

*For bathroom grout and caulking around tubs: Mix baking soda and hydrogen peroxide in a bowl to form a paste. Use a small brush (like an old toothbrush) or your finger and slap the stuff onto any funky grout or caulk and let sit about 5 minutes. Then, scrub it; with a scrub brush or scrubby sponge until it's clean. Rinse with water and ta-da! Mildew free tub with no chemical induced headache! As a bonus, you can wash your whole shower this way and you get a workout at the same time.

*For counter tops: Mix vinegar and water in equal parts in a spray bottle, add the juice of one lemon and shake. Spray counter tops and wipe with a clean cloth towel. I also use this in a larger batch to mop my floors.

Having never been one for styling products, streamlining and greening my 'beauty routine' was probably the easiest thing I've accomplished on my way to a more environmentally friendly life. It's true confession time, so feel free to hold your noses and back away slowly: it's been over a year since I used shampoo or conditioner. I used the last of my bottles at the end of 2010 and haven't bought any since, instead I've been using the baking soda and apple cider vinegar method. It took some time to get the formulas right for my hair type (1 tbsp baking soda is way too much per cup of water for my hair) but aside from that, it's been a fantastic experience - my hair has been way more awesome since I started this. It isn't greasy in a day nor is it alarmingly brittle at the ends anymore; instead it just feels healthy. When I want to deep condition it now, I slather some coconut oil on it and let it sit overnight rinsing it out in the morning.

And, just in case the shampoo thing didn't send you running for the hills, I don't buy deodorant anymore either. I swipe a mixture or baking soda and corn starch on every morning with a makeup brush and it works great!

Now some folks may wonder how this has anything to do with my pagan path or why the hell I bother with this stuff. Here's the deal: I take a lot of pride in greening my life, simplifying it and eliminating a lot of the 'stuff' people get so hung up on. There are things that I didn't bullet point above that I do - like use cloth napkins and handkerchiefs, how there have been no paper towels at all in my house in over a year and how I use a moon cup because I'm cool with my bajingo - because I could spend a week writing all about it. Despite what a lot of folks may think, doing things this way really isn't inconvenient for me and I get the benefit of knowing that I'm not contributing to the hundreds of thousands of gallons of chemicals that poison our soil, our drinking water, our fish and our planet each year. All of these simple things when added up, amount to something much bigger and if more people didn't take the stance of 'what difference do these small things make anyway?' our world would be a lot cleaner.

As for how it relates to my pagan path? Nature is my Divinity. It is where my holy and sacred spaces exist, where I can dig deep inside of myself, where I find the spirits and the gods. The lord and lady of the wild, the green and growing, the horned, furred and wild, the Green Man and Woman are those whom I revere above all other deity and they are found out there, in Nature. And so I strive to learn and to grow under their watchful gazes without repaying them in chemicals and garbage.

How Divination Brought Me Here

Ages old and used in many forms by many cultures, divination is still extremely popular today. Perhaps you've dabbled here and there with Victorian versions, such as peeling an apple into a single slice and tossing it over your shoulder to look for the first initial of your true love? Maybe you've used a fortune teller machine at the boardwalk or had your palm read at a fair? You may also read cards, use a pendulum, or divine signs from clouds, smoke or fire.

For me, divination was the door that opened and helped me begin to walk the path that had been unfolding in my heart since youth. As a young child I felt inclined to spend my afternoons in the woods, tracking animals, burying the dead when I found them, talking to trees, collecting rocks and making mud potions. As an older child (a tween, I suppose) I began to worship the Greek pantheon, in my own way, after devouring at least two dozens books on differing ancient mythologies. I built shrines, painted and continued my outdoor adventures and rituals, never knowing what exactly to call myself. When I entered my teens and religion became something folks discussed on occasion, I would say - I believe in something, but can't put my finger on what to call it exactly.

Then, when I was fourteen, something new was introduced to my path. A friend (who I later lost from my circle due to teenage stupidities) gifted me with a deck of Universal Waite Tarot cards. And they were magnificent. The images on them were gorgeous, softly colored and expertly drawn. The pattern of stars on the back delighted and captivated me; I was enamored of them. I immediately began to methodically memorize the 'little white book' (as many first timers do, I'm sure) and following my friends advice, stuck only to the major arcana. After a while, I deviated from the book with my readings, I would spread the cards out on my bed, draw one or two and make note of them in my huge notebook or ask the cards yes or no questions, shuffle and then turn them over, putting them into piles of right side up and reversed; more reversed meant 'no', more right side up meant 'yes' and an equal number meant they couldn't say.

This went on for a year or so and then I began to want to know more. I began working with the full set yet I hungered to learn new spreads and found that a lot of the cards didn't resonate well with me; their meanings in the book and the feelings they gave me didn't sync up. I hit the libraries (we had *just* gotten dial-up internet, so that was the slooow method of learning) and began to devour books on reading tarot. And the more I read, the more this one word kept popping out at me; 'Wicca'. Being curious, I began to read books on that subject and while it didn't exactly fit with my own feelings, it was closer than I had ever been to giving a name to my beliefs. From there I went on to learn more about other forms of paganism and witchcraft and it led me to here; 15 years later. All because of a set of tarot cards.

Divination still factors into my path today, though I have no strong knack for reading the tarot these days. I fell out of practice right around the end of high school and they sat unattended for many years. Now, when I pick them up I no longer feel intuitively connected to them; it's as if we've had a falling out. I'm making attempts to repair our connection but it has most definitely been a slow moving process. I've tried other sets of tarot cards while working this out, but to the same end. The cards, while beautiful, don't sing for me the way that they used to.

That being said however, I've had tremendous success in reading the heart of faerie oracle deck I picked up on a whim a while back. Each day I pull a card and read with them at each new moon; asking what I need to keep in mind during the coming cycle. Sometimes I do a larger reading because something tugs at me to do so.

For quick yes or no questions these days, I use my pendulum. As it is made of red variegated agate, I will sometimes carry it in my pocket if I'm having a day when I'm not feeling so hot or when my eye condition is flaring up.

On occasion, I also read tea leaves, which I find to be both tasty and fun. I drink my tea down to nearly the last drop (which involves a fair amount of slurping!) then give the cup a good swirl, three times round, before turning it upside down onto a plate. I flip the cup back over and look at the shapes the tea leaves have formed and how they relate to each other. Typically, I don't focus on anything in particular when I do this - I just let them say whatever they feel the need to say. Thus far I have never seen a Grim. ;)

So loves, now you know a bit more about my relationship with divination and how it plays into my path. How about you? How did you come into it? What forms do you prefer?

As a bonus, have any of you a falling out with a form, where it no longer seemed to work for you? Were you able to repair it or did you need to let it go?

Of Wax and Wick: Candles

The simple candle; wax and wick, scent and color. A versatile item, used often in my practice and my every day life. Around my house, you'll see them in seasonal colors on the mantle, tea light lanterns in the bedroom and living room and several large scented candles that I burn on occasion. In the kitchen, you'll find a particularly large herb encrusted candle that I burn while cooking or cleaning.

I often burn candles to invite the light in, especially when I'm feeling depleted or depressed. Sitting and focusing on the flame, I'll look for shapes and signs or slowly close my eyes and let the warm glow carry my thoughts off and leave my mind resting and calm. I find meditating on the flame or the scent of a candle to be soothing. I almost always have one burning when company comes over, although if you asked me why I feel the need to do this I couldn't give you a straight answer as my reasons are quite varied: to set a mood, to promote harmony and warmth, to burn away negativity or bad feelings, the ward off harmfulness and gossip to name a few.

When it comes to my magical workings, candles are almost always involved. On my altar there is always the main candle, which I use to light other candles in ritual as well as to read the cards and makes notes by. I light candles as a simple daily gesture to the Gods, Elements and spirits. At each new moon I burn a black candle and at each full moon I burn white; typically there is nothing else aside from divination done on these nights. For each sabbat, I burn candles in devotion to the Gods and to celebrate the season and associations of the celebration.

In my cabinet you will find a large collection of tea lights and chime candles in varying colors that I use for simple petition magic; to send healing, to promote protection, to share passion. Along with these smaller candles are larger ones that I use when I have a more serious desire or need to work towards. These larger ones will often be inscribed with symbols, dressed in oils or rubbed down with herbs to help focus and boost my intentions. When I dress the candles, I pick the point on the candle that represents myself (typically the wick end) and dress from that point outwards to send things from me and dress from the outside towards that point to attract my desires. In my path, the candle runs the gamut from a simple devotion to a powerful magical tool.

How do candles play into your path or everyday life?

P.S. Since I missed last week's "C" post for the Pagan Blog Project, I thought I'd share the colors I like to use in candle (and color) magic. Please note, you may not associate the same colours with the same things as I do and that's O.K. That's the beauty of walking our own individual paths.

White: An all purpose color that I use to balance out black in banishment rituals (to draw something in to fill the void), in devotions to the Goddess, the Moon and to add a little extra something to spells. The Maiden Goddess, Purity and Cleansing.

Pink: Love, harmony, tenderness and compassion.

Red: Passion, Sexuality, Fire, Strength, Confidence, the Mother Goddess.

Orange: Happiness, Harvest, Energy.

Yellow: Air, Life, Vitality, The Sun, Hope and Joy.

Green: Healing, Prosperity, The Green Man and Woman, Nature, and Earth.

Blue: Water, Calm, Creativity, Cleansing, Soothing, Communication.

Purple: Third Eye, Clairvoyance, Wisdom, Spirituality, Warding off Nightmares.

Brown: Earth, Grounding, Stability, Forest Spirits (often alongside green) and Protection.

Black: Banishment, The Crone Goddess, The Underworld, Absorbs negativity, protection and purification.

P.P.S. Happy birthday to me! Only 365 days until I am officially out of my 20's. Plans for today include a trip to Atlanta and checking 'See a whale shark' off of my 30 by 30 list. :)

On Bees

Despite their humble appearance and the occasional sting, bees have many lessons to share. Being the makers of honey, a central ingredient in mead and honeyed wine, bees have an association with the gods as well as a long standing place in magic and non-magical society. They add sweetness to our lives and rituals and remind us not to work so hard that we forget to taste the 'honey' in our own lives. They tell us that the things of which we dream can be accomplished through perseverance, every day just by flying these wee creatures accomplish a seemingly impossible task.

Bees are most often associated with the qualities of hard work, focus, productivity, cooperation and wealth due to the way that they work in their hive. All aspects of the hive must function properly in order for it to continue to prosper and each individual bee becomes single-minded and sharp focused when performing a task. Due to their instinctive nature to fearlessly defend their home they are also associated with devotion to friends and family. Travel, messages from the gods, connection between the here and the Otherworld, life and death, sexuality and fertility are other traits and phenomena that are sometimes associated with the bee.

In spite of all that, the most important lesson of the bees is a simple one: Don't just take, give back as well. As they gather nectar and travel from flower to flower they help to pollinate the plants thereby giving them the ability to create more flowers or to bear fruit. A healthy population of bees is a gardeners best friend, regardless of the size of their plot. It is this departure from selfishly taking without thought of giving that makes this lesson one which is vitally important to take to heart. Humans seem to have forgotten this cycle, the bees have not.

If bees begin to appear in your life, and not just because it's Spring, take a few moments to sit and think about where your life is at the moment. Are you working so hard that you're forgetting to savor the fruits of your labor? Perhaps you've been in some sort of slump and your time has been anything but productive. What dreams have you been neglecting? Maybe you asked the Universe or the Gods something and the wee winged ones hold the answer you seek. Don't only take to heart the associations listed here; go out and really observe the bees that are around you, for their lessons may differ from these. Be silent and listen.

If you find that the bees move you or you just want to help out a creature that is dwindling despite its significant role in our ecosystems and agriculture, consider doing something for them. Plant a bee garden, filled with plants that are particularly attractive to them. Keep it organic so they don't slurp down chemicals at each meal. If you have a large yard and you won't miss having a chunk of it mowed and clipped allow it to grow tall and sow it with wildflowers and herbs, effectively creating your own mini meadow. Not only will the bees thank you, but birds and other small critters will appreciate it as well.

If you have the money, the space and the patience, consider taking up beekeeping. Yes, you will undoubtedly get stung at some point, but to equalize the hurt you'll have honey, wax and the knowledge that you're helping a thriving bee colony grow.

In nature and in spirituality, bees are truly magical creatures.

The War Over Winter

Let's face it, the holiday season can be rough. Stringing lights, making enough food to feed a small army, being stuck in traffic on the roads and in the shops and dealing with in-laws and distant relations is enough to make even the most sane person reach for a happy pill or some liquid courage. Regardless of your religious leanings, you too will be forced to deal with at least some of the holiday madness; unless you never leave your house.

Now add to this the anxiety that occurs over a simple exchange of what should be pleasantry. You say, "Happy Holidays" to someone, either because you don't know what they celebrate and don't want to make assumptions or you're putting whatever winter holiday they do (or do not) celebrate into a nice little bundle with New Year's. In return, you'll most likely receive a 'You too!' which can range from lake bottom frigid to Midsummer warm but you may run into a viper who can't help but say something along the lines of 'It's Christmas!' in an overly indignant manner. If you work in retail or with the public, you know what I'm talking about. If you've been in the shops at this time of year, you may have seen this snake strike out at a hapless clerk who was just trying to be nice.

To these people I say; get the fuck over it. The fact that Christmas comes at the end of the month (just a week before New Year's) has not escaped my notice in my 28 years on Earth. In fact, despite my being a pagan, I celebrate it with my friends and family. Who can't get behind the idea of swapping gifts beneath a glittery tree with friends, family and hot chocolate laced with peppermint shnapps? What's that you say? I forgot the 'Christ' part of Christmas? Of course I did, I worship other gods and honor other traditions just like all of those other folks who also celebrate other holidays. You know, the ones you cram your Christmas down the throats of.

Let me ask you something, Christmas Crazy, if I were to wish you a Happy Chanukah, Happy Kwanzaa, Happy Eid (when it falls in December), Happy Festivus or A Happy Yule during those holiday's times of celebration this month, would you react with as much grace and dignity as the rest of us? I doubt it, because you're batshit crazy. On the other hand, if some pimply kid at the cash register smiles and wishes me a Merry Christmas, rather than pointing the finger and yelling 'USURPER OF YULE!' at him and ranting and raving about the return of the Sun and the Triumph of the Oak King I smile warmly and wish him one as well. And do you know why? Because that kindness means more than the words that were spoken; if someone sincerely wishes me well, that is what counts. Because those simple kindnesses are few and far between in our increasingly cold, greedy and self serving population. Just ask the people who were pepper sprayed and beaten up over towels at Walmart on Black Friday. Towels, folks.

In a time when people use methods of self defense in order to buy the cheapest quality shit they can lay hands on, we should be grateful for each and every act of kindness we receive; regardless of that person's spirituality, looks, etc. If someone is willing to make eye contact and be warm, you've hit the momentary jackpot. Because personally - as someone who works as a lowest level employee in one of those evil banks right now (because I enjoy things like electricity and eating) and has at least a handful of people a week accuse me of personally stealing their money (in the form of fees) when they overdraft for my personal million dollar a year bonus - I don't say a damn word of holiday cheer. I don't need anymore dirty looks or ugliness to be tossed in my general direction and so, in true Grinch fashion, I'll only wish you a nice day. Which is truly, a bit sad.

So this year, while you're strung out on Starbucks and running a million and one errands to get yourself through the season with not a tear to be shed by anyone (including yourself) take into account that not everyone celebrates the same holidays (or celebrates your holiday for the same reason) as you. If someone wishes you a Happy Holiday/Merry Christmas/Wonderful Winter, sincerely thank them and move on with your day. I celebrate Yule, which will never, ever be something that I am wished a 'very merry' by in a public forum and I'm cool with that. And if I (and numerous other pagans/heathens/witches/etc) can be, then so can you.

Also, some more food for thought. This season, why don't we all take that 'Good will toward man' thing seriously. Because regardless of your religious belief, it's just a damn fine rule for being human! Let's put away the pitchforks and torches. Quit the mud slinging. And no one should be saying "Christ" or get the fuck out, like this asshat who clearly needs to pick up a history book and learn about the why's of certain traditions, symbols and phrases added to our country's wording:

I could say so many things about this, but Kallan over at The Secret Life of an American Working Witch has already cited enough references and reasons that this person should take down their sign and be ashamed - even outside of it just plain being an ugly sentiment. So I'll leave you with this - quit associating holly leaves (which I hold dear at this season) with your ignorance and learn to practice what Christ taught. Because, I doubt he'd be proud of you right now.

The Witch's Circle: Spellwork

This post is in response to a post of the continuing 'The Witch's Circle' discussions over at Aine's blog, The Deepest Well. To view her and the commenter's thoughts on spells, click here. To read about The Witch's Circle and add your ideas for discussion, click the dancing witches image below.

Wingardium Leviosa! A spell from the Harry Potter stories and honestly one of the ones I wish I could use in real life. The only one I wish for more? Riddickulous! Who doesn't want to turn their biggest fear into something inane and, well, ridiculous?

Spell work is a very real part of my path and I by no means intend to make a mockery of this practice with my references to Harry Potter. Quite the contrary. I loved the approach to spell work in the books and movies because they demonstrate the very basis of what I believe spell work to be: Intention. You have to want and believe in the outcome of your work or all of the wand waving, chanting and herbal concoctions will be useless. More spells are killed off before they've even begun by witches who don't have the confidence or belief needed to bring them to fruition.

If all one needed to do to work with the energies of the spirits, elements and universe was point a wand and say 'I want x,y or z!' and it came to fruition everyone and their dog would be wearing a pointy hat, carrying sticks and the world would go mad. Luckily, for all of our sanity, it's not that simple. That being said however, it is not a terribly difficult feat either for one who truly wishes to learn and to practice.

A spell, in its simplest form, is a petition to whatever energies you work with. I think of prayer, in its way, as a form of spell work. A spell can be as simple as lighting a candle or setting up an offering, inviting the spirits to sit and hear you out and speaking plainly, all the while keeping your intent strong and true. It can be as elaborate as setting and casting a full circle on a specific day of the week, during a particular planetary time and having specific herbs, incenses and candles to burn while reciting a chant or poem. The important thing is to follow your intuition. If you plan an elaborate spell (or a simple one) and you feel an overwhelming desire to change plans? Go with your gut. Again, it's not always in the how, but in the why. Of course, if you are disrespectful to the spirits or using magic for solely selfish purposes the amount of faith or conviction you have in the spell work may not make a difference and it will die off.

Are there other rules that govern spell work? I believe that depends on each Witch's individual path and tradition. I'm sure we've all heard of and know the Three-fold law and The Wiccan Rede, "And ye harm none, do what ye will." I am not a wiccan and do not follow the rede. To me binding , banishing or blocking something or someone on the magical plain is no different than getting a security system, a retraining order or other means of protection here on the physical one. And while typically I try to live a life in which I don't needlessly harm others if a time comes when someone or something threatens myself or my loved ones I will not hesitate to do what is necessary to protect us. The reality is that sometimes life gets dirty and ugly and one needs to fight back by whatever means they have; in my case I will not hesitate to turn to spell work.

Does this make me or others who feel similarly 'evil'? I don't believe so. No more evil than a mother bear protecting her young. I do not act recklessly or without forethought, I have never performed spells in a blind rage - although I have been sorely tempted. It all comes back to that one word, intent. For intent does not just apply to what you wish to do, but also to your state of mind when you act.

The Witch's Circle: Commitment

This post is in response to the first post of the continuing 'The Witch's Circle' discussions over at Aine's blog, The Deepest Well. To view her thoughts on commitment, click here. To read about The Witch's Circle and add your ideas for discussion, click the dancing witches image below.

Beginning to walk this crooked path was, I believe, a bit easier for me than it is for a lot of people. I was raised in a home with no formal religion; my parents both claim to have religious belief, my father being catholic and my mother just having faith, but they never discussed or passed those beliefs on to us. We didn't go to church, were never baptized, never were expected to follow any religion in particular. It was all very... sterile, I suppose. Growing up, I did a lot of reading about religions, I devoured holy texts as well as books from the new age sections. The librarians at the school and local libraries must have thought I would grow up to become a philosophy teacher, because why else would a kid be checking out these sorts of books over the usual popular fiction?

The truth of the matter was, not only was I curious, but I was searching. I had friends with deep religious convictions and friends with deep convictions that there is nothing out there; none of their philosophies clicked with me. Having grown up feeling like there was something out there, something in the tree line, something in the heavens, that watched over me and guided me on occasion I just couldn't say 'nothing exists but science.' By the same token however, none of the major world religions resonated with me; my Irish Catholic grandmother telling me french kissing would put you in hell along with rapists and murderers scared me shitless, sure, but it also sounded like unfit justice all around. The thought of karma, that unbiased cosmic bitch who delivers justice, rang a bell of sorts within me but it still wasn't enough.

The place where I found that which began to wake up my soul, was in the dusty pages of long neglected books of mythology. The Greek gods began it, and I fell asleep most nights praying to the Olympians, always beginning and ending with Hestia. Shortly thereafter a friend gifted me a deck of tarot cards and in my studies of them I came across the first books I had ever seen on Wicca. I began to devour book after book on the subject, everything from Cunningham to Ravenwolf, whatever I could find in the libraries and shops. Remember kids, this was during the dark ages before the internet and during the internet's first dial up baby steps - internet research wasn't a possibility like it is now. While they clicked to a point, they still weren't quite what I was looking for. I continued my search and years later discovered works on witchcraft, paganism and the many different traditions there in. I met the gods of the Celtic Pantheon as well as the lord and lady of the Greenwood and there, my loves, is where I found the beginnings of this dusty winding path and made my commitment to grow, learn and practice.

Unlike so many, I didn't have anything that I needed to give up to make way for a new, undiluted spiritual path. I was well read, but without prior biases. Making the commitment was not a tough choice for me and still is not. Though I didn't have any prior attachments to faith to work through or renounce, there were other sacrifices that came along with donning the green mantle. Friends were lost or estranged and there are many times that I have to bite my tongue to keep certain peaces. There are still moments of nagging self doubt, brought on by the difficulty or inabilities I have when trying to do certain things (like meditate; which seems so very basic.) or when I feel disconnected from the deeper parts of my path due to long boughts of depression or apathy (re: the past four months) but I know that I've made the commitment to walk this path. By continuing to learn and practice, to not give up on the things that I have difficulty in, by tending my patch of earth, by getting up each morning to face the day despite the shit in my head, I know that I am honoring my path.

Who and What are You?

So, I was totally called on by Angel from Ivy on the Path in her most recent blog post "Who are you and what are you?: Personal styles of the craft" to share a bit about my personal style. I didn't want to hog her entire comment section with a long winded ramble, so I thought I should just go ahead and do a post.

I'm going to preface this with a warning; I typically suck at talking about myself. It's usually very stream-of-consciousness and not as well written as say, descriptions of things or snark.

Since I was a girl, I've been intensely interested in, fascinated by and in love with nature. From trees to rocks to flowers to animals, I couldn't absorb enough information about or spend enough time out in it all.I had all the makings of a young witch and had feelings in my heart and spirit that had no name. I was a wee pagan. Countless days were spent chatting with the friendly oaks in the backyard, collecting neat rocks, on the look-out for one of the neighboring bears to wander by or making potions and spells from mud, plants and sticks. It's something I've carried with me into adulthood, although I will begrudgingly admit that a lot of the 'doing without worry' of my younger years has gone into hiding and has yet to re-emerge since I was hit with a case of 'the grown-ups'.

Now that I'm through that strange and unpleasant phase where I worried far too much about 'being a grown up' , 'putting aside childish things' and 'being successful' (by the standards of others), that youthful way of not over-thinking and worrying things to death is something I'm trying to reclaim. This is something that shows in many things: my art, my writing, my enjoyment of purely silly things. It shows in my rekindled love for and belief in the fae, who I had pushed aside and denied belief in during this stodgy period of my life.

I definitely believe that the things we enjoy in our day to day lives, the things that we tend towards and favor, our life experiences are all reflected in our personal styles as pagans, witches, etc. Drawing from my less than pleasant experience above, I've been working on trusting my heart and my guts when it comes to spells and rituals and putting all the damn books down. While they are great tools, they're written based on someone else's comforts, style and beliefs - not my own.

Some examples of my personal style:

* I have a fondness for the antique, vintage or just plain old. Be it books, keys, teapots or what have you; these things are in my china hutch, on my bookshelves, on the mantle and adorn my altar in the form of candle holders, bells, plates and bowls. There isn't a thing on my altar that was brand new when I bought it or it was gifted to me. Everything has a past.

* Being such a barefooted, bug bitten dirt worshiper, it's only natural that my favorite colors are greens, browns and brilliant blues. These are often part of my altar set-up, usually in the form of altar cloths. Also not terribly surprising, is I'm always working plants and stones into my workings, or putting them on the altar for some reason or another.

* Simplicity, fun and not always taking everything overly seriously is important to me. A lot of my spellwork is spontaneous, light hearted and free form.

* My style and moods change with the seasons, though not exactly as you would expect. In the Spring, I feel renewed and it is incredibly hard to keep me indoors. I'm drawn towards planting, enjoy skipping around in the rain and looking for four leaf clovers. Birds and flowers adorn the house. In Summer, my mood levels out, I'm content. I enjoy watching the green world flourish, soak in the late setting sun and long to be by the sea. In Autumn, I'm giddy and once more renewed: I'm drawn to this part of the year most. I bask in the harvest and the browning of the earth, bid farewell to the sun, bring out the pumpkins and take time to reflect on many a things. In the Winter, when the sun has disappeared I often find myself melancholy and dreary. In attempts to bring in some cheer, I deck the house out in greens and whites and prepare (sometimes dread) the upcoming holidays.

* Personal expression, art, inspiration and the wild world are important to me. There is always art on my altar, my tools are often handmade or found, I tend towards things which are naturally beautiful. For instance my wand, which is just a branch that was found, that I adorned with leather, shells, feathers and beads. I work with all of the elements, though I am most comfortable with Earth and Water. I have an easier time expressing some of my feelings and beliefs through art and then thinking on how to word them later then the other way around sometimes, hence my pagan art journal; the closest thing to a cohesive Grimiore I've yet to create.

* Birds are a huge inspiration for me, I'm completely fascinated by them. I collect feathers for use in charms, bags and spellwork. I also use bird shaped candle holders for petitions or prayers so they can carry my thoughts on their wings.

* I'm still coming into my own, now that a lot of the unrealistic expectations I put on myself are fading away with the anger and depression of my late teens and early twenties. I'm a work in progress who is settling into the rhythm of my life and learning to be happy with the genuine me. I'm reconnecting with my intuition, with my faith and making my way along this path knowing it could change at any moment (as it recently has) and looking forward to the adventure of it.

This is just a small list, I could carry on forever about all of the things that I enjoy and some of the experiences I've had. However, I feel these big ones are the meat and bones of who and what I am currently: a woman, wife, friend, dork, artist and witch who is heavily inspired by nature and the seasons, enjoys a good story, a cold pint, a bit of fun and mischief and is finding her way back to herself while walking a winding path.

Danni also enjoys disguising herself as a Mario brother while drinking coffee.

So, my lovelies. Tell me a bit about yourself and your personal style, whether you be a witch or not. There are no right or wrong answers or ways, only our own. I'd like to get to know everyone a bit better, that's another personality trait of mine: curiosity. Feel free to leave a ramble here or on your blog (post the link here so I can visit) and stop by Ivy on the Path to visit Angel sometime, her photos are as beautiful as her writing is inspiring and thoughtful.

Of Rubber Duckies and Passing On

This past weekend was, in a word, surreal. Joe's birthday was Sunday, so we opted to take the weekend easy and just have some fun. No house work, no worries. And at first, it went just as planned, with stops at our local comic book shops to celebrate Free Comic Book Day and a trip to the park downtown for the annual Rubber Duck Derby. There's something ludicrously silly and fun about watching thousands of rubber ducks popping over the waterfalls and racing down the river towards the finish line.

We came home and I absconded to finish painting his birthday gift as we waited for friends to come over for a pre-birthday hangout with fire and s'mores.

As the night went on, I noticed stress and worry on my brother's face. He's not prone to either the way that I am, so I asked what was wrong and he said their (his and his girlfriend's) bunny had been acting oddly, not eating as much as usual and being a bit lazy. I assumed the heat was probably just getting to her but figured I'd give her some feel better petting. However, upon touching her I had the overwhelming feeling that she was dying. Not wanting to worry my brother, and having no explanation for my feeling other then I just felt it, I gave him the name of my vet and told him to take her in the morning.

Not the bunny in this story. This is one of our wild rabbits who I call 'The Strawberry Thief'.

They took her in, my brother went to work, telling me they needed to take her back for blood work in the morning. With that I put all thoughts of the previous night out of my head and Joe and I spent the afternoon lazing about playing video games, which is all he wanted for his birthday. No more then an hour and a half later, my brother's girlfriend rushed out of their room, panicked and hysterical, cradling the bunny who was wide eyed and shaking. I took the bunny from her and told her to get her things, I'd rush them to the vet. However, as I held the bunny I felt a tug on my guts and a sort of shift in the air and knew she had passed. I hadn't felt her stop breathing, but when I put my hand to her ribs, felt her heart had stopped. I layed her down on her blanket, petted her head and wished her a safe, peaceful journey to the Otherworld. My brother and his girlfriend opted not to bury her in our yard, as the clay soil gets too hard for us to dig without an auger past a level of about 1.5 feet and something, I suspect a fox, has dug up the baby bunny I found under the hazelnut tree and buried on May Day.

This is the first time I've held a dying animal fully in my arms. I've held the paws and kissed the heads of many of my beloved pets as they've passed over in the vet's office over the years, but I was loaded up with grief and never experienced the feeling of passing. Not the physical feelings per say, but the indescribable feeling of knowing without knowing. It was a strange feeling, not uncomfortable but not like anything I've experienced before. I've been coming across the dead more often recently, it was only a matter of time before I would come into contact with the dying. However, it effected me more strongly then I anticipated and I spent a good portion of the night in thought or in tears. I think I owe my husband another special day, for being awesome, comforting me and not once being at all annoyed that I was like this on his birthday.

An odd, full circle sort of weekend. A celebration of birth and the passage into death. Have you held an animal as it crossed over before? How did it effect you the first time? Do any of you walk a path where the dead and dying are very much a part of it and if so, would you care to share a bit about it?

Transitioning

Journal Page for 52 Weeks of Pagan Art Journaling. Prompt: A Letter to Yourself in 5 Years.

Being a witch who works with all animals has always suited me but a few weeks ago I began to have this niggling buzzing in the back of my head wondering if I had a particular spirit animal. So, I did what this witch does when she has a questions she can't answer on her own; I asked the Universe.

Almost immediately, there was a desire to snatch up anything with a bee on it, to paint bees and was partnered up with a fellow artist who's very important title is Queen Bee. The Universe was giving me signs, but in the hustle and bustle of the move, I neglected to notice. Then the bees began to buzz about me a bit more often, in effect following me on walks in the park, hanging about while I was sitting on a bench near nothing but sandy riverbed; one landed on my hand and a light bulb of realization switched on in my brain.

These are my spirit animals; the bees. The mysterious, buzzing creatures of Spring and Summer. Insects who many people fear, despite my having never met a bumbling bee who, like an angry hornet, just stings you for the hell of it. Messengers of the Gods, travelers between the Otherworld and the realm of the living, bees are filled with wisdom and hold the secrets of communication. They are associated with life and death.

Shortly after the living bees began to keep me company, dead bees began to lay in my path. I found the first while walking home, laying in the shoulder of the road. I brought it home, set it on my alter with offerings of rose petals and honey and there it has stayed. Within days I had found several more, dead in the garden. I kept one more particularly lovely one, who seemed to have just layed down where I was intending to transplant my sage, and died.

Since the bees, I have encountered more dead animals then ever before. Many of them birds, but some smaller mammals such as hares and squirrels have been laying in my path as well. I say a few words over them whenever I come across them, and if the opportunity were to arise where was able, I would inter them and send them on their journey with offerings as I did with the bees.

I feel a transition forming on this crooked path of mine, this witch is being pulled and called in a new direction as it forks. I feel the call of the Wilds more strongly and Death has been leaving calling cards around. I find myself wishing to root around more in the muck, to get my hands dirty. I'm being drawn towards traditional witchcraft, folk magic, hedgewitchery. When spaced out and working in my personal art journal and during meditation, I've been scribbling sigils, though I know not what they mean.

I feel a renewed strength in myself, a renewed faith in my path. I hunger to learn more; to read, to experience. I wish to learn more about working with muck and bones and roots and the dead and dying animals who seem to be finding their way to me, though admittedly not with as much frequency as their living counterparts.

It all began with the bees.

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If you know of any informative blogs or books on the subjects of animal working, rootworking, bones or magical symbols, please, let me know and I will seek them out. It seems incredibly difficult to find books on Hedgewitchery or Traditional Witchcraft that are very good.