Really fell away from doing the alphabetical prompts. Not really all that bothered by it. Things happen. Organization in our lives is a bizarre concept. People seek structure, but more times than naught, we are distracted long enough for our special sense of order to go up in smoke as we are pulled away through the doors of chaos. And there is no logical recourse than to go with the flow and do our best to understand the signals and messages that the Universe has given us. Strangely this sense of chaos reminds me of The Fool. Yes the tarot card. I found a lovely book of Luis Royo illustrations which were organized into the form of a tarot book. Bibliomancy is an old time favourite practice of mine, and one that my husband is very skilled at. I was thinking of a dear friend of mine when I opened up that book in random fashion and found myself looking at The Fool. He is the jack of all trades, the man who has his hands in many different doorways; vested interests in many different dimensions. He isn’t held down by restriction. For him, the road is open and free. It is merely his decision as to where he will travel, and what he will do. For the fool, the sky is the limit. A new way of seeing the world and the ways in which he is interacting with it. In many ways, The Fool is like Loki.

In a similar fashion, Loki is also a brilliant force that knows the rules, and knows how to bend or break them in order to do everything and be everywhere. I look at the urnes pendant around my neck and I think for a moment about how this is a reflection of the paths that I walk. I have a friend who is very eccentric, and very intelligent, who walks with both Odin and Loki. Since I shared with him that I am on that path as well, his head was filled with a deep hearty laughter, and a strange admiration as he once told me that it was not an easy path but came with its own benefits. I look at my nonagram as well, and I remember a time when I thought the two completely separate, and had no bearing on one another. And now when I look at the nonagram I see pathways throughout the nine worlds.

Loki is also a great force of change. He reveals a path of big changes. The kind of changes that you find yourself making, even when you don’t entirely understand why you’re making them. All you know is that it is imperative that these changes be made. And somehow that’s enough of an impetus to action.

I was a teen in the late 90s, when I first started thinking about the philosophy of existence in the contest of this real, tangible physical world, and the other, the dreamy, holographic, astral plane. At the time I had wondered if somehow we got it all wrong and this was actually the dream world while the astral plane was the real deal. The Matrix had just come out right after I began thinking about this. To have found it in such proximity to when I started thinking about it, it kinda served as an affirmation that it was a mental query worthy of pursuing.

Last night I was actually journalling about the psychological effects of reprograming the mind with affirmations when I found some level of similitude between that and the way that dreams surface to the conscious mind:

“Things from dreamtime, be they astral or otherwise, flood toward the conscious mind and these slivers of dream recall come floating up to the surface. Sometimes if I’m not scrutinizing them, they rise in a very haunting way, always just out on the edge of the periphery, as outliers. I can feel them stirring me, but sometimes they are too cloudy or faint to process a coherent picture, so I let them ripen or ruminate in my mind a little longer, hoping to sort them out at another time.”

I am a long time believer in the power of dreams to serve as messages about the unconscious self, and as a window into our world, and countless other worlds. Not only as sources of magic and divination, but as keys to the mysteries of the psyche and soul.  I have studied my own dreams since I was a child. Sometimes I look at ‘dream dictionaries’ in bookstores, but am suspicious of people who offer general catch-all explanations for different people’s dreams. Because we are the culmination of our cultures, histories and have different ways of thinking about ourselves and the world around us, dream interpretation demands an understanding of psychology and sociology.

Just from examining my own records over time I have noticed several patterns emerge. Those patterns build categories for things like ‘headspace’, ‘mindplay’, ‘astral projection’, ‘past life recall’, and ‘prophetic dreaming’. Headspace is alot like defragmenting your hard drive. It requires little memory and it reorganizes the matter, clearing away the holes or spaces from deleted or forgotten material. It synthesizes the storage space.

Mindplay takes its material from the everyday ordinary details of one’s life, and acts as a stage upon which the exploration of ideas, thoughts, and fantasies play themselves out. Think the Star Trek holodeck. A testing ground for everyday applications.

Astral projection is a state that many enter through their dreams. Its vast. People who enter the astral plane often have interactions with familiar faces but not always. It is, in effect, another dimention or reality, somewhat layered on top of the material plane.

Past life recall filters through the conscious mind. These dreams express a sense of familiarity that is often felt through the auspices of lucid dreaming, accompanied by a level of detail that goes beyond the typical mindplay of everyday occurrences.

Prophetic dreaming foretells some future event. Sometimes they are happening when the dreamer has them. On my brother’s birthday, I dreamt he was being evicted from his current living arrangements. later that day, my nephew’s mother told me those very details. We haven’t spoken in years so it isn’t something I could have known.

Last week, during a discussion with an old friend, we found ourselves talking about channeling, and the energy requirements involved. This is about the time she asked me if I had ever read the Celestine Prophecy. I had not but I knew it was resting on my shelf, so I picked it up. It is a story about a wanderer who learns about a Mayan manuscript causing so much controversy that intelligensia and government officials are trying to keep it hidden, to the detriment of any and all who seek to expose its secrets.  So several groups of scientists across many different disciplines journey to a place that is like a safe haven, or sanctuary, in which they can unlearn their external programming and begin one by one, to see the world as it truly is. Along the journey that each of them walk, is a path to discovering the nine insights. I found this kinda cool because of its synergy with the number nine in other mystical contexts, i.e. the nine muses, the nine realms along the world tree, and nine is also represented in the nonagram which is a symbol of Sophia.

In addition to the main character, all of the other supporting characters, are on this same path of self-discovery, as I previously mentioned, to explore these nine mystical insights. Reading this was like opening a door and seeing myself back in 1998. At that time I also felt that restlessness that plagues the main character, and was involved with a group called Project X, whose initial aim followed the very same goals. What is strange about this to me is that Redfield wrote this five years before I embarked on my “journey” and I’ve never read the book until last week. Now Project X was an online discussion group when there were just websites and chat clients. I was called there because I was looking for the very same things. I had my file packets of channeled drawings, scripts, and soundexes that I now keep in journals.

It was a kind of surreal opening a book and seeing things I had done ten years prior. Not to regret or downplay it as the philosophical ramblings of a ”silly ideological girl”, but to see it for what it was. That there are people who are brought into our lives for an unspecified amount of time, and then they are gone. The idea that we are brought into contact with others to assist them with certain goals. That the tugging on your silver cord is a means of some higher self or inner guide telling you to “pay attention. this is important.” And that while some folks are content doing the normal everyday jive, there are others who are desperatiely seeking a way to unplug from the matrix and realized their own self-truths and the position they hold in the great or super unknown.

Strangely this kind of ties into Candlemas, or Imbolc at the Salon. Hekate’s torches were the vision of the inner fire we explored, and on that day I realized I am at a sort of crossroads. I had always known in some fashion that I have the gift of prophecy, and that I want to use this gift and others, to help those in need, but before had no idea how to help bring it about, or for that matter why I am part of Spirit’s Edge in the first place. And slowly beginning to realize that what came around once is coming around again. That everything I write, and everything I do is beginning to make some sense.

Although much less a personal focus than it used to be, I wanted to share my perspective with Connie and her viewers. I am by no means an expert on the subject. I am only an enthusiast. The consideration of magic being neither black nor white is a trite estimation that is used to de-mystify it to some extent, and clear up any misconceptions on the subject. If we’re talking about intention, then the measure is greyscale. To this effect I mean to say there are folks who break magic down into white, black and grey, where white is recognized as encompassing healing magics and black is recognized as encompassing harmful or possessive magics(work that at its core subdues the will of others), grey sits comfortably in between (call it the middle path, if you will). I don’t generally take this view, but I’ve known folks who do, so for those people I make reference to this language. I have heard people argue that as far as magic goes, you should seek out other ppl’s permission if they are the target of good intentions, but I have envisioned circumstances where that isn’t always possible. Though I generally hold to the idea that we are inevitably responsible for all of our actions, and as my husband loves to remind me, “the road to hell is paved with good intentions.”

Alot of black magic is historically ceremonial. This becomes apparent reading Arthur Waite, Richard Cavendish, or some of the scholarly experts on the subject such as Richard Kieckhefer or D.P. Walker. The history of magic and occult studies are such an integral part of European history, that we would be remiss to ignore their presence and the influence they still evoke in the practice of present day magical studies. Black magic is often in association with, but not limited to demonolatry, necromancy, chaos magic, other things that make up the left hand path. Satanism tends to follow similar currents, but honestly I think one has certainly influenced the other. In association with the historical ceremonial works to which black magic is associated, there are other classical magics best known for the men of history who practiced them (Giordano Bruno, Pico della Mirandola, Marsilio Ficino, Robert Fludd, etc.)

In a recent online group I walked into a discussion on Brujeria. For years I was deeply attracted to reading anything on the subject. But the allure and mystery aside, it is another form of magic, or witchcraft, depending on the perspective. The guy discussing the subject referenced Brujeria and Voudoun practices that have helped him to forge his path. And I was hit with the synchronicity of how I continue to find folks connected to this path.  It began some years ago in my undergraduate work when I met a woman in my anthropology of religion class. She had pursued its study for a while, but could not commit to it. Her heart was in something else. There’s no shame in that.

When I was learning about my genealogy, with my father’s help I traced it back to the Caribbean, particularly the Bahamas. But there’s always been a place in my heart for Haiti. I never knew why.  Somehow I continue to hit the cross-currents.

My writing partner is another soul touched by Voudou. Either I am finding it or it is finding me. She’s in a semi-relationship with a Voudoun practitioner. Sometimes she does her writing at his place. She has found that sometimes there are spiritual forces in that environment that really help to foster good writing on her behalf, and other times not so much. She comes over to visit and to discuss various writing projects with me, both of us researchers and aspiring writers.

At our last meeting she mentioned Ezili and Eshu. I was familiar with the names, and especially of Ezili.  By the time she was leaving I realized she had brought Ezili with her. She doesn’t really know how she feels about Voudou. She grew up in a Christian home and has had her share of conflict with people in the local religious community who pour from their hearts more hypocrisy than she can handle. Somedays I wonder if she has a future with Voudou, if there is another expression through which she can successfully connect with Ezili, or if her presence has more to do with me. Voudou embraces a highly prominent role for its practitioners, principle among those who are skilled in entering ecstatic trance states and who channel the loas or orishas.

But then, it is not just Voudou that bears the sole rights to mediumship playing such a prominent role in its discourse. Nearing the end of 2012 I had a conversation with my husband about the Norse Gods. Years before I had been very intersted in them, and then for many years there was no interaction at all. So I made the mistake of stating that I did not feel that I had anything to learn from them at that time. And as soon as the words came out, I could feel a sly grin aimed at me, from where I could not tell. I learned sometime later that there was an oracular, mediumistic practice rooted in Norse shamanism called seidr or seething. It is similar in many ways to the Voudoun ecstatic dances, and readings on some sagas and myths show that it is primarily a female spiritual vocation. There are others, I’m sure, but these are the two that have jumped out at me. So here I am, ever on the road to being, or becoming.

Last year I was met with many changes. Things I believed for so long would always remain constant have passed away and have left me inside of this void of space where I can honestly admit to myself that I know a lot less about myself than I used to. I no longer feel that the term “eclectic pagan” can accurately describe who I am and this process that I am experiencing. I have sat in meditation searching for understanding on the path that I now walk. This blog reflects some of these changes.

There is an absorbing, all-encompassing drive to look into the mirror and to figure out who that medium is that keeps staring back at me. She’s been there all of this time. When meditation or memory reveal something fresh and current, she digs up the drawings of my adolescence and suddenly I see the connections. Its slightly more frightening that she holds all of this inside of her “akashic records”, and pulls it out at seemingly random times. But someone close to my heart once told me there are no coincidences.

What does it mean to admit that you are something? Is it just lip service, or is it a step closer to recognizing that there is a reason for things unfolding as they do, and that it may be time to devote yourself to its understanding, if that is indeed what you seek to do? Because having a title or a category to place one’s self seems like useless banter unless we really intend on doing something with it. I didn’t want this to devolve into a general rant, but sometimes treasures are found in stream-of-consciousness writing.

It is a joyous time. One of my favourites. It is cold outside and every instinct tells us we should be hibernating, but our hearts are overwhelmed by the joys of gifts given and received. Things that come from the heart and brighten the soul. This is a beautiful time of the year, but one that is hard on me. I dont know if the emotional turmoil concerns being overly receptive to the many ills and misfortunes of our society, being overwhelmed by memories of the first people I ever loved, problems with my hormones, or a comination of these.

It is a sensitive time, one that requires much needed rest and internal retreat. And in that internalized state, a time to think about our dreams and what we want to accomplish in the coming year.  For me, there is a backlogue of poetic narratives, some that will only run 30-40 pages in their final copy. But these stories are not always intended to be large scale projects. Its about content. But one thing is certain. One message prevails above all others. The necessity in writing and composition. When I feel like I’ve hit a block, or I just haven’t got it in me, my divinities and my deceased have repeatedly illustrated its dire importance at those pivotal moments.

And there are other, more historical writing projects I’ve swept under the rug and lost track of temporarily. These I know are important to resume in 2013.  The world didn’t end, to my chagrin. I must admit – there was a part of me rooting for the Apocalupse, and in a way it came to be. We should remember that the word apocalypse means ‘a revelation’, or ‘revealing’. And what was recealed at this winter solstice was the great year or procession.The constellations we saw on 12/21 were seen almost 26000 years ago. Think about that. We witnessed the end of one cycle and the beginning of another. And the motion of the stars are sure to have an impact on our lives, but we decide, on the darkest night of the year, what we want to accomplish with our lives.

I had my belated “end of the world” Chinese fare a week ago, and here is what my fortune read: “Good luck is the result of good planning.”

I don’t know if this subject applies to me or to other folks who do not practice an established religion or spiritual doctrine, or if it is indeed all-inclusive afer all, but will try to answer the prompt, nonetheless. The prompt asks the reader to think about their religion or faith. Do we practice the old way or modern Wcca? Since I do not practice Wicca, I”ll insert paganism instead. Do we practice the old religion or do we adhere to a more modern interpretation? Do we blend the two? Why or why not?

My focus has changed so much over the years. But honestly, I am on a path to recognize the goddess within. I acknowledge that I have been practicing magic since I was a child, long before I began studying Paganism. Magic is an intrinsic element to my heart, mind, body and soul. This path I walk is very personal. I have explored various systems of magic and various philosophies. Everything I have found reiterates the importance of walking that eclectic tightrope, because what is being embraced are the things I know in my heart to be true and real for myself. I’ve written numerous posts and rants about attacks on eclecticism from the pagan community and other religious bodies for the fundamental flaw in identifying eclecticism as a buffet of ideas where the practitioners take only the goodies and leave behind the bitter morsels and the aspects of our human condition that are hardest to swallow. But the folks who identify eclecticism with intellectual folly have no idea how difficult it is to walk a path that cannot be found in books. Someone had the insight to make those paths a reality, and had those realities codified.

I look to ancient religion as a fascinating subject worthy of study. I’m quite passionate about the subject, but when it comes to living eclectic paganism, I do not seek to reconstruct any of the ancient religions that I study.  Likewise, I don’t adhere strictly to any single system that I read about in books or elsewhere. I know in my heart and have been reminded time and time again that the best path for me is the middle path – that it is best to scrutinize everything I study, and incorporate it as best as I can into my system .  Historicity is important to a point, but then so is personal experience. I am a self-ascribed eclectic Pagan. I think there’s an internal understanding of magic that’s personal to each and every one of us. Some of my magic is based on practices and symbols I have learned through the course of my practice, and others that I have known since childhood. There are very specific subsets of studies under the Pagan and occult umbrellas. Some folks are drawn to herb lore or alchemy. My strengths lie in mythology, death energies, and especially in empathy, psychism, and channeling. Much of the magic I have utilized concerns chaos, star magic, and the low or folk arena.  I have no idea where that knowledge came from. There’s no significant family traditions for me to follow or trace. As far as I know, I am a self-educated, self-made Pagan.

 

Last weekend, I met with a group of people who discussed interactions with the fae. It is a local group called Spirit’s Edge, that I meet and share ritual space with, for the sabbats. It was nice to have a discussion about the fae as larger-than-life. I shared a few stories about my encounters with them from my late teens. They were a part of Celtic mythology with which I always identified. The focus of the ritual was on the Morrigan. Someone I was once drawn to, years ago, but over time I drifted away from the Celtic pantheon. I don’t feel bad about it. Its just something that happens.

I’m beginning to find more intrinsic value in working with other people. The rest of the time I still practice as a solitary. What I found very interesting were some of the symbols that appeared from the guided meditation, and I later contacted Shea for her thoughts on some of those symbols. What I didn’t really detail, was the fact that I was still receiving messages for up to two days after that ritual. Nothing really earth-shattering that I wasn’t expecting. They were messages about approaches and necessity to healing one’s self.

Much of these post ritual symbols revolve around the process of regeneration and transformation in the Dagda’s cauldron. Many transformative symbols have appeared in my life in the last couple months. From divine messages to totem animals. Having additional interpretations of them at different times in one’s life is actually quite useful as a compass for measuring the direction in which my life and path are leading me. Especially for those times when I can’t believe what is actually happening, and need a to take a step back to assess it.

PBP  addresses Samhain this week. I wrote a short article about Samhain for my history/writing blog, Katie Anderson. I’ve gone around and read some of the posts linked to PBP’s site. Its interesting to me to take a look at the ways in which other people perceive and celebrate Samhain and other points on the wheel of the year. For this last October 31, we dressed the baby up as a dragon and took him on his first trick-or-treat. It was a nice chilly night. There’s no reason for me to separate Samhain from Halloween. If you look at the history of the sabbat, it was originally a night of hallows. The history doesn’t fade. Even though I’ve drifted from Celtic paganism, I can still feel something very powerful happening in the world around me. In fact, its a little too powerful, and sometimes very difficult to process.

Years ago an ex-boyfriend of mine gave me a two inch tall hematite ankh right after my mother died. It remains on a small section of my dresser I call my altar until this time of year. I kept it on for a few days just for good measure. I’m keeping the holidays together because I want my son to grow up with both holidays entwined with one another.

While we were out, we came to a house where everyone was outside and dressed up. We were standing a few feet from the candy line, and I saw a little girl wearing a twisted jester mask. She didn’t move a muscle. I had a weird feeling, and I heard a voice who said “time is running out.” I turned away to take the baby up to get some candy, and when I turned back she was gone.  This isn’t the first time I’ve heard this line. I’ve heard it all bloody month. Dead folks pouring in and out of the house for weeks.

The energy only amplified straight through the night. Sitting with my son into the late evening I could catch glimpses of my back yard filled with folks who aren’t usually there. And like an idiot, I sat there watching Shaun of the Dead. Comedy or not, the after-affects of zombie flicks are brutal, especially after a night of trick-or-treating to houses with all tons of zombie decor.

Earlier that day I had set out some rum cake and cider for my folks. The house is in disarray so I do the best I can. I organized a ritual for Samhain that addressed the themes of death, dissolution and rebirth, combining some western and eastern concepts. Drawing a circle of protection, and invoking the Tibetan Tara, Mahakala and Hindu Kali. This was very personal because, as an extension of the things which I have admitted I have the strength to set free from my life back during Mabon, it is the next logical step on the wheel of the year to reach for dissolution of the ego, and to unite with the universal consciousness.

After a tarot reading, I realized I was moving along at exactly the right pace. Right where I expected to be. This was what I needed to do at this time. For me, Samhain points to a lot of personal as well as universal changes, and perhaps even a new-found faith in the universe.