Learning the Dark

This is a difficult post to begin, so I’m just going to dive right into the middle, and work my way out to the edges from there.

The Morrigan works from the gut, most of the time, anyway. She is instinct & courage. Passion and fire and fury.

I’m learning to listen, here, to what She has to say, because I’m in the middle of a battle…and I need all the help I can get right now.

And being told that my emotions, at least the “darker” ones, need to be abandoned, given up, let go… 

Is bullshit.

I used to repress my emotions.

I used to tamp them down, pushing them into smaller & smaller spaces, because they were deemed “unacceptable”, “socially abnormal” and just plain “dark, morbid, negative & wrong”. 

Until, of course, I’d explode, sending my anger, darkness, whatever you want to call it, by this time magnified exponentially, onto whomever was closest to me at the time, whether they deserved it or not.

I was Vesuvius.

I was Krakatoa.

I was Pele.

I was fire and ash and death, burning the air, scorching oxygen from others’ lungs and melting the ground out from under their stance. 

And, when I was finished, I would feel horrible over the destruction I’d caused, but would have no idea how to fix it, so would run away…leaving the wreckage behind.

So, I grew up.

Learned how to express myself better, with more clarity. (For the most part) Yes, sometimes I still fall down the verbal well when it comes to expressing my feelings to someone, especially someone who knows me from my past, because they have access to those emotional buttons (triggers) that caused me to go off “back then”. 

Started blogging, which really does help me figure out my emotions, & how to verbalize them.

But, back to the darkness.

I…am not a sunshiney kind of person. I’m not a hippie, or a bohemian. I’m not a cheerleader or perky pixie type. (Factoid -I tried my hand at cheerleading in high school, but even to this day, people don’t believe me, & need photographic proof)

If I weren’t almost 47 years old, I’d say I was closer to a Goth or Emo kid, or at least on that end of the spectrum, because of the way I think, speak, act, dress, blah, blah. 

Hell, I’ve said it before, in relation to my poetry… “I was Emo before it was a style”.

I wear black, pretty much all the time.

Not because it’s slimming, but because it helps me blend in to shadows better, and, as I’ve said before “It goes better with my soul”.

I laugh at morbid jokes.

I don’t get scared watching “scary” movies, but instead critique the special effects techniques, laugh at the stupid dialogue, & make fun of the plot choices.

I prefer to sit in the dark, rather than turn on a light.

I sit up late at night, and hate early mornings.

I detest early morning chatter at work, and do everything I can to avoid it.

I need my dark side.

After all…

You cannot see and know the light unless you sit first and accept the darkness.

Morrigan came to me at this time of my life for a reason.

She knows I need my darkness.

She is the Queen there, & can help me navigate my way far better than some of the lighter Goddesses. 

This is not going to be an easy battle.

My darkness is the only thing holding me together right now.

Don’t touch.

Fire at My Fingertips

It seems I’ve decided over the last couple of months to completely rearrange my life.

I’ve been seeing Ravens everywhere online, and the local equivalent, crows, in the skies, on the ground, in the trees. It was more, to me, than a mere coincidence.

It was the Morrighan calling.

Warrior Goddess, she who stands at the forefront of the battle. Those who stand unafraid before her gain strength from her touch. 

I do not fear my own death, I fear only my cowardice should I falter in the face of a loved one’s pain.

I started listening to what Morrighan had to teach me. To stand up for myself, which I have a hard time doing. To stop putting my needs first in my life, above everyone else’s wants. To cut away the things in my life that were no longer furthering my goals & dreams, but were, in fact, keeping me from reaching those very things.

And, changes started to immediately occur.

I dyed my hair black. Not a huge deal, but it made a big difference in how I see myself in the mirror, and it’s about perception.

I got serious about getting into shape. I work out now 4-5 nights a week, eat better, & have lost almost 20lbs. I’m starting to feel really good again, and I’m not done.

I’ve changed/dropped a couple of relationships with people that I can no longer maintain for various reasons. Not necessarily good or bad, in and of themselves, but necessary to make the changes I need for my life.  (Ok, yes, one of the relationships was causing me more harm than good, & my whole family, as well as my friends, were all glad when I told them I ended things for good this week. He’s still being persistent, & I’m not sure how things will play out in the end, but I took the first step.)

All of this has happened since I started seeing the ravens…

There’s fire at my fingertips, raven feathers in my hair, & the Morrighan walks at my side, whispering in my ear.

Embrace the flames.

Just a Prayer

Goddess gracious,  good and wise
Grant me farseeing and open eyes
Grant my ears the truth to hear
And a strong back to face my fears

Give me wisdom,
And a loving heart
And the courage to let go
When it’s time to depart

All these things I ask of thee
So I may serve others
As your nature’s child
So mote it be.

A Murder of Crows

Standing outside my office building yesterday, I watched in wonder as a murder of crows gathered, swooping and gliding, over my head.  20-25 of them – black slashes drawn boldly against the sky – they cawed raucously to one another as they danced overhead.  Spiralling acrobatics punctuated their flight, as they would come together, screaming and diving, then splitting into smaller groups that would spin around one another, only to meet up again with the others, and circle back to the spot directly over where I stood.

We have crows in our city, they’re everywhere.  But this is the first time I can ever remember seeing the aerial display that I saw yesterday.  It was almost as though they were trying to tell me something, since they would swirl out and away, disappearing from view for a few seconds, but would always return to the same place – over my head.

So, I searched my memory for meanings behind the crows… but all I came up with were the battle crows and the Morrighan.  Not comforting images, to be sure, with all the imagery of battles and death.  I knew, too, that there were different meanings between seeing 1 or 2 crows, to seeing a whole murder of them.

And the fact that they kept coming back to me, had me just a little uneasy… so I went searching for deeper interpretations.  And found this:

*”Ravens and Crows represent magick, mystery, and sacred law as well as battle, and the mysteries of the Crone and Matron (warrior goddess). A gathering of ravens is called an “unkindness”while a group of crows is a “murder”. They are highly intelligent birds, and have been known to follow armies for many miles. In Native American Myth, Raven is a Creator/Trickster god. In Celtic lore, the raven is sacred to Badb (whose name means “Battle Crow”and the Morrigan as well as Bran and Lugh. In Greek lore it is sacred to Hecate, and Apollo among others. In Norse tradition, the two ravens that sit on the shoulders of Odin are called Huginn and Muninn (Mind and Memory). As guardians through the cycle of death and rebirth, the scintillating rainbow colors in their dark wings remind us that even in the midst of darkness we have the power to touch the light.” *

I know that I’m reaching a new place in my life.  I’m a grandmother now.  I’m finished with the “having children” part, and have moved into the “almost done raising them” phase.  YoungerDaughter is graduating from high school this year, and OnlySon is, of course, now a teenager.  Pretty soon, they’ll all be off on their own adventures – and I’m fine with that.  Truly.

There are still struggles, and I’m going through some of them now, having changed last year from being “Married – with children” to “Single Mom, single income”.  It hasn’t been easy, but we’ve managed.  And now, with the addition of 3 more people to the household, it’s become a whole new type of struggle.  We’ll get through this, too, I know – but it won’t be easy.

And maybe, just maybe, that’s the message that the crows were trying to impart with their aerial dance and mock battle yesterday. 

“Join with those around you, for if you fly alone… there is no dance, no glorious battle to make life better… Dance, fly, dive and soar… chase the dream of something better – and make it yours.”

Breakthrough

Talking to EldestDaughter last night, I was… well, the only word to describe my state of mind at the time – is “elated”.

Considering the surroundings she’s in right now, court-forced treatment (because of a technicality, and a vindictive state’s attorney who has awful professional ethics), my ED has been going through some serious navel-gazing.

And she’s come to some realizations that I’ve been hoping for YEARS that she’d find for herself.

And, as awful as it sounds, maybe this treatment that she was forced into… won’t be the worst thing in the world for her.  Maybe this is exactly what she needed, at exactly the right time.  I just wish the circumstances surrounding it hadn’t had to happen the way they did.

I know, this all sounds so murky and round-a-bout.

I’m trying to protect ED’s privacy here.

Needless to say, the circumstances that got ED where she is now, where she has to be for a little while yet, have fallen behind the strides and gains ED has gotten from the people she’s surrounded by now.

Last night, after talking to her, and finding out all that she’s come to see – with both eyes open – and the complete shock that enlightened epiphany most often brings – I wanted to cry with relief.

It’s been a long road, and I just hope that ED can see it all the way through.  It’ll be so much healthier for her in the long run, and she’ll be so much happier at the end of this journey – if she just sees it to its conclusion.

Opening your eyes to who you really are – seeing it reflected in other people, through their own eyes – is not always easy.  It’s often painful, confusing, and can cause anxiety, anger, and depression.  But it can also spur you into making changes for yourself.

Because I’ve often said that you can never change another person.  And no one can ever make you change yourself.

You have to choose, for yourself, to make changes because you want them.  It’s the only way that the changes work, it’s the only way that they’ll ever stick, and it’s the only way to do it without resentment and recrimination.  Because it’s all you.

ED has been surrounded by people who have it worse than her, people with problems that she can’t imagine having to shoulder through.  But, through listening to them talk, and through hearing about some of the things in their lives that closely mirror her own… she’s finding that she now understands so much more about herself, and why she does some of the stupid things that she does.  And she’s gaining the tools necessary to not only forgive herself, but to forgive others for their past mistakes – so she can let go of all the old resentments that have been eating away at her for all these years. 

Once she can reach that point?  Everyone who has a problem with her will have to deal with their issues on their own, she won’t feel guilty for them anymore, and she can simply choose to walk away from the negativity, instead of trying to fix everyone else and make everyone else feel better by giving up pieces of herself.

We talked about how one of the people in her group was talking about being a “people pleaser”, always trying to make everyone else happy, they emptied themselves out of emotion, energy, etc.  And when they had given everything they had, and there was nothing left, they had to “fill” that gap with something else, to take away the pain.

And ED realized that she’s been doing that with her Paternal Gene Donor for most of her life.  Trying to please him has repeatedly “emptied” her out.  Trying to “fix” others has repeatedly drained her dry of energy and will.  And once empty, she grew resentful.  Resentful that it was never enough, could never make those others happy.  So she would try to fill the void within herself with what she and I have taken to calling “dangerous fun”.  Those things that sound like so much fun, and friends will try to convince you are just “the best time ever”, but are dangerous to you, to others, and are almost always illegal.

And the one thing that ED realized that really made me want to cry?  That she is stronger than she ever thought.  She will make it through this, she will be better for it, and she will know that she can walk through fire – on her own if necessary – but that she also has a strong, loving, and unconditional support system waiting for her if she needs us.

I think my baby’s finally growing up, for real.

Thank you, Goddess, for letting me be a part of this, and for helping my little girl get through this time.

Sixteen

Move through your days as though someone you love is always watching.  Who do you want them to see you being?

I’ve given this line a lot of thought.

It’s something that came to me a while ago, and I’ve used it on myself plenty of times.

Pick someone, anyone, in your life whose opinion matters to you.

Then imagine what you would look like through their eyes.

When you did that, what would they have thought?  Would they smile, frown, be puzzled, or angry?  When you said that, would they agree, disagree, cry, or be glad they know you?

If it was your child, would you want them repeating that?  Sometimes parents forget (yes, me too) that their children learn what they witness their parents doing.  Good behavior, bad behavior, off-the-wall, goofy behavior.  If Mom and Dad do it, it must be ok, right?

If it’s your parents, would they be proud of how you are standing up straight?  Walking with your head held high, or upset that you’re hunched over, hiding who you really are?

If it’s that “special someone” would they smile, and tell you that you look beautiful/sexy/happy today?  Or would they worry that you’d been dragged through the bushes behind a runaway horse… backwards?

If it’s the Goddess/God that you’re imagining watching over you, checking on your progress through your day, would you want them to smile and say “That’s my boy/girl!”  Or would they be shaking their heads saying “Maybe next lifetime… poor sucker”?

I know, that sometimes I get so lost inside my own head, I forget to be mindful of how I’m perceived by others.  Not that I’m trying to conform, or fit into anyone else’s box of expectations for me…

But that I want to be the best possible version of the honest me that I can.

And if that special someone was watching me, right now, I’d want him to be impressed.

And so, I say to myself… “Move like you mean it… someone’s watching.”

Tuesday Theology – Beltane

May 1st is Beltane.  It’s a joyous celebration of Spring, complete with flowers, ribbons and fire.

And yes, it’s a fertility holiday, too. 

BUT.

It’s not just about that.

Beltane is a fire holiday that celebrates not only the creation of new life, but the creation of prosperity.  In the old days, people would light the Beltane bonfires in celebration of the sun returning in full force to help everything grow.  Couples would hold hands and jump the flames to show their commitment to one another, with those that jumped the flames at their highest, without letting go of each other’s hands, bringing good luck to their relationship for the years to come.  Usually, the eldest couple in the village would wait till the end of the night, when the fire had dimmed to just coals, and holding hands, they’d step over the remaining fire calmly.  This was the culmination of the night, and afterwards, everyone would take some of the leftover coals home to light their hearthfires, knowing that they contained all that hope and love that had been infused into it by the people that leapt the flames.

The villagers would also bring their cattle, and drive them past the bonfires, to bring fertility to their herds, and luck to their farms.

Beltane is about the earth breaking open, to release the magick of the seeds that had lain just under the surface, and growing into the crops, flowers and grass that was necessary for life.

It’s about the breaking open of all sorts of magick, that’s lain fallow over the winter, waiting for its moment to come forth and spill good luck and prosperity over those that wish for it.  It’s about the fulfillment of hopes and dreams, and seeing the beginning of new and wonderful things in your life, after waiting through the darker times, and working for this new start.

And then, there’s the maypole.

Young maidens and young men were typically chosen to dance around the maypole, weaving the ribbons round it in a certain pattern.

It was designed to bring the young people together, allowing them to meet one another in a supervised setting, giving the parents a chance to find “good matches” for their children in the future.  It was also about “weaving the magick” to the earth, through the wooden pole stuck into the ground, making it stay in one place, to “hold” the magick and good luck in one place, ensuring the prosperity of the villagers for the whole year.

This Beltane, some friends and I are finishing a ritual that we began at Ostara.  Eggs were cleaned out, decorated, and a slip of paper containing our hopes and wishes were placed inside of them, and sealed with tissue and wax.  In this way, we were “planting” our dreams, giving the magick time to grow within.  At Beltane, we will crush the eggs in our ritual, releasing the magick into reality, and burning the slips of paper to deliver our dreams to the God and Goddess, in the hopes that they will be received and fulfilled for us.

No one speaks about their wishes that were written, safeguarding the magick with silence.  I know, though, that the magick has already begun.  Speaking with one of the others, as well as my own experiences, tells me that this is so.

And on Sunday….. everything will become the reality that I’ve been wishing for.

So Mote It Be.

Dissecting the Wizard – the Top Half

One of my all-time favorite movies, and something I have to watch every year, without fail, has always been —>

Ever since I was a little girl, this movie has caught my imagination, and my wonder.  And over the years, I’ve discovered that it has quite a lot to say to me.

There are a lot of funny, sarcastic moments in this movie for me, hidden behind the soft, “simpler age” cinematics.  And the music in the movie never gets tired.  At least not to my ears.

Many people are so rabid about their fan-dom, that they can’t take a joke about it.  I, on the other hand, love seeing things like this:

To me, this just proves my theory… namely, that the Wizard of Oz will resound with generations of children, and adults, far into the future.  Even if just to make them laugh.  But I think, really, that there’s a lot you can take away from this movie.  If you look closely, listen carefully, and really dissect the Wizard down to his socks.

At the beginning of the movie, we see Dorothy, living in a dull, drab landscape with her aunt and uncle.  She gets into mischief with her dog, Toto, because… well, there’s simply nothing else to do in her life.  And when the time comes to pay the price?  It’s excessive, yes, but she rebels, just like every normal teenager all over the planet.

By running away, fleeing from the consequences of her unthinking actions.

When she bumps up against an insurmountable problem, the “Twister” that threatens to tear up everything she loves, she’s knocked down, knocked out, and wakes up in a totally unfamiliar landscape, amongst strangers. 

The people are actually rather kind to her, after she does them an unforseen favor, that of ridding them of a bully – The Wicked Witch of the East- who’s been terrorizing them for a long time.

She also meets up with Glinda, the Good Witch of the North.

Now, part of me has always wondered why Glinda didn’t do something about her counterpart to the East, but, when I was  a young girl, I did actually read the books, and discovered that the witches were all sisters.  So, I guess it’s an unspoken family rule… you aren’t allowed to kill your sister.  Good rule to have, I guess, but awkward for the munchkins.

Anyway, Dorothy gets the bad-girl shoes, which have powers (which of course, Glinda won’t tell her about, or doesn’t know about, since she’s a “good girl” and not a “bad girl”).

Now enters my personal favorite character of the whole movie – The Wicked Witch of the West!

I’ve talked about her before, here, simply because she is someone that has always fascinated me, and I always thought got rather a bum rap.

She tells Dorothy off for killing her sister, and tries to get her birthright… the magickal shoes, thus setting the whole journey in motion.  Without her?  This would have just been a long, quiet walk through some rather pretty countryside… no excitement – all sugar, no spice.  Boooooorrrrrring.  And?  Dorothy would have never learned her lessons in the first place!

Dorothy then heads off on her own, to try to find someone to help her get back to her life and family.  Through some accidents of her travels, and some divine intervention (of the “Glinda” variety), she meets up with just the right people (ironic, that) to help her find what she’s been looking for. 

The Scarecrow, who needs to get a clue… The Tin Man, who needs to get over being such an emo sap…. and The Lion, who needs to get some… uh, (PG rating deletes comment).

They go with her, trying to help out, and stumbling right along with Dorothy, until they reach the Emerald City, where they’re told that they’ve traveled all this way, only to be turned back. 

“Nobody gets in to see the Wizard, not nobody, not nohow!”

Well, of course, they end up getting in to see him, anyway, because they’re just that fabulous, and he sets them what seems to be an impossible task before he’ll grant their wishes.

Ain’t that always the way?

(TO BE CONTINUED)

Good Night Moon

The full moon occurred on Friday night, and was carried over through the weekend, into the Spring Equinox, or as we Pagans call it, Ostara.

I captured this picture from my driveway on Friday evening.

I love the moon.

When I was a kid, I was frightened of the dark.  Terribly, awfully afraid – almost to the point of phobia.

It wasn’t until after I finally started learning about Wicca, that I stopped fearing the dark, and learned that it could be a comfort, too.  The moon is now, to me, the Mother’s face, watching, protecting, empowering me.

She hangs up there, throughout the night, my favorite time, and even when her face is not full, there is a special magick that follows her, and makes me smile when I see her.  It’s always been said that there’s a “man in the moon”, but they lie. 

It’s the Goddess’ face I see there.

This second picture was sent to me via text, the same night, from someone very dear to me, who knows about my fascination with the moon.

I love the fact that the camera on this phone turned the moon blue.  Beautiful, absolutely stunning.

It was a thoughtful, sweet gesture, and it was the perfect gift.

The next night, EldestDaughter came into town, as she had agreed to go to prom with a friend here in our town.  She stopped by the house, just so I could take pictures of her in her dress, as I didn’t get any when she actually went to her senior prom (a tale for another day), and so I FINALLY got my prom pictures of her…. 2 years late.

I told her about the “supermoon”, and later that same evening, I received this:

EldestDaughter also knows about my absolute love of the moon – and that she was thinking about me while at a dance with friends?  Priceless.

Also, one of EldestDaughter’s favorite books is “Goodnight Moon” by Margaret Wise Brown.

It was one of my favorites to read to the kids when they were little, and I think we have 3 copies of this book floating around the house. 

My favorite part?  The ending.

Goodnight stars

Goodnight air

Goodnight noises, everywhere.

(Goodnight, Moon, I love you)

Tuesday Theology – SPRING!

March 20th signals the Spring Equinox, and I am SO READY!

Spring Equinox is one of 2 days of the year when the light and the dark are nearly identical in length.  This is when we in North Dakota generally truly begin to feel the warmth of the returning sun, and the signs that life is returning to us once again.

I, myself, begin to start getting horrible cabin-fever about this time of year, after hibernating for the last few months.

Wiccan theology paints the Goddess, at this time, as the Maiden Spring – Persephone returned from the depths of Hades, and once again reunited with her mother, Demeter.  Persephone is gowned in flowers, and is followed by rabbits, ducklings, lambs, and all manner of baby animals.  She is the first blush of Spring, the mist of green that adorns the trees and carpets the ground, telling us that the grass will be returning shortly.  She is the joy of sunlight and music, after the long cold silence of winter.

And to celebrate this, we paint eggs and we plant seeds, infusing them with magickal wishes for the upcoming growing season.  We plant our hopes and dreams in the fertile soil of the world, nurturing and watering them carefully, providing them with the warmth of our hearts and protecting them from harm by keeping quiet about them.  Like making a wish on a birthday candle, you don’t speak about it, allowing them to sprout in their own way, with the consent and aid of the Goddess and God.   Knowing that, if they come to fruition, then they were meant to be beneficial to us.  And, that if they do not grow, that it was not the right wish, or maybe, not the right time for it.

And so, this Spring, I plant the seeds I wish to come to fruition.  I will nurture them, care for them, and nourish them with my hopes and love.  If it is meant to be, the Goddess will allow them to grow.  I have faith that what is meant, will happen. 

And, I have already had my sign that Spring is coming.  The geese are back in the park.

Wish #1 – fulfilled!