Wednesday, September 30, 2009

AGAIN with the weird dreams....

Had the baby dream again.

When I get immersed in a creative project, I often dream that I'm pregnant. If I miscarry, it's a bad sign--clearly. It means I'm fucking up, somewhere. Last night, I dreamed I was about to give birth to a baby I conceived in January. As per usual, I couldn't remember who the father was. My labor wasn't progressing. In fact, I wasn't even showing. I spent the hours waiting to deliver the baby by telling different dudes that each were indeed, the father. That seemed to excite them. They weren't guys I know in waking life.

H was there and told me I would need to do more stretches in order to give the baby room to make its way into the world. Basically, there needed to be more room inside of me.

My friend Jen says I have no subconscious. She's right. Clearly, I haven't been making enough room for whatever conceived project I have to come to fruition. Now the question is...what did I "conceive" in January that should be making its worldly appearance, now? I'm still thinking on that. The only other way to connect the January thing is it was the last time (gulp) I got laid.

I'm making an effort to not do so much. Saying no to things is difficult--one of our Group members has a terrible time with that. As a Priestess, I notice that my members' issues tend to emulate those of my own. Is it because they're my issues that I notice them? Do they pick up issues from me? Are they sent to the Group in order for us to see our issues in one another? Dunno.


I read Tarot for a very sweet client whom I had not seen in awhile. I think she was happy, even though due to bus and class schedules, I could not give her her full half an hour. I like reading for nice people, even on cold nights when I have to take the bus.

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

A Spell

Hi Guys!

While waiting for the window guy to come and see what can be done to fix my living room window (I've had to use a cat-scratcher to hold it open since the day I moved in...) I'll tell you all about the protection spell I did last night.

It's not good practice to talk about the spell you're working on until it's been completed. In fact, I strongly encourage everyone to keep their spell working to themselves, unless they'd like to tell their teacher about it. I have a lot of great teachers. They hear all about my stuff, all the time.

This weekend, I went to see my adviser, Lilith. My concern: several of my Group members had come to me saying they had dreams people were casting nasty spells at me, slandering me, or doing otherwise douchey things in my general direction. Now, my regular life is feeling pretty good. If these things are indeed going on, I'm not really feeling it--yet. But I decided it would be best to have Lilith check in on it, anyway.

The cards said there was some negative hoo-ha going on: a little verbal bitching, nothing to be too concerned about--but it was a gentle warning from the Universe. Now that I'm in the role of High Priestess, I need to keep my spiritual life in tight ship all the time in order to still be the best leadership and support I could be for my crew. Time to go tidy up.

Friday night, I dreamed of a moonstone ring to wear on my index finger. At the Pagan Pride Day, I found exactly the one I was looking for at Don Cross's stand. Silver triple-moon design with a secret pentacle at the stone's support. Moonstone has been known for its protective powers and its one of my favorite stones--being a Cancer and a Moon Child and a Moon worshiper and all. The index finger of the dominate hand points the way to your endeavors. The ring on this finger would be the protection for that.

I sat at my altar last night and consecrated the ring with the Elementals: Dipped it in the incense smoke for Air, whisked it through the candle flame (carefully and quickly, as the flame could crack the stone), dipped it in the altar waters which had been perfumed with essential lavender and basil, and then dipped it in the bowl of earth--which is compiled of earth from Ireland, Manhattan and South Carolina--where my ancestors come from, where I live and where I was born. (It's best to have graveyard soil from your ancestral plots--but that's all I got at the moment.) Then, I dipped the ring, again carefully, in the flames of Brid and Pan. I read an incantation to Brid that I got from a book called, "Brighid's Healing."

Bhride! Solas geal!
Gabh isteach!
Gabh isteach!
Caed mile failte!

Brighid! Bright light!
Come in!
Come in!
One hundred thousand welcomes!

Today is the day of Bride
The serpent shall come from the mound
I will not molest the serpent
Nor will the serpent molest me

Hail until thee, Jewel of the Night!
Beauty of the Heavens, Jewel of the Night!
Mother of the Stars, Jewel of the Night!
Foster Mother of the Sun, Jewel of the Night!
Majesty of the Stars, Jewel of the Night!

I asked Brid to bless the ring with protection, and did the same for the pentacle I wear on my neck, every day. It looks different, now. Can't really say how so. Should have done the same for my other ring.

Then, I made an offering of beer and cheap wine--cheap wine for the ancestors. These things make Them happy.

Monday, September 28, 2009

Musings on the completion of the Wheel

Yes, we're still weeks away from Samhain, but already I'm feeling the end of this year's Wheel. I know what my next project is going to be. I have a book to write. Tonight, while attempting to put pound out a short story, all I wanted to do was jot down a chapter summary of the things I learned over the past year and how it can all be pounded out into a book. It's coming. That's the project for next year--besides getting into Seminary full time--is making sense out of all the shit that happened in 2008-2009 and how to process it into something that might help others. Journeys, journeys, journeys....

Meanwhile, Jorge and I are taking a week off from shooting the Tarot deck. It's amazing we survived last week's nonsense. We're collaborating on Saturday to prepare for the UK Tarot Conference (!!!)

Hmmmm....what else to say.

CRR and I talked last night about the process of writing. Writing for two hours every day, and reading for one of those hours, too. I would like to get an hour's worth of reading in tonight, but I also need to make some phone calls and clean out the refrigerator. Plus, do some kind of protection spell for my house and home. Maybe I can combine that with my reading. Reading some of my spell books. I have some good ones. When I find something good, I'll let you guys know.

CRR, are you reading this and chuckling? Stop. I feel it in NYC. (Just kidding. But not really.)

I'm playing Witchy Carrie Bradshaw because I've got to fill up twenty more minutes of writing. I'm almost there, right? Have I found enough to say? No. Did I draw any conclusions? Hell no. Do I ever? Meh. Of course not. What philosopher does? Which brings up the I a philosopher? What defines a philosopher? Who the fuck cares who is a philosopher? Would a good philosopher use the word, "fuck"?

CRR, this is all your fault. You suggested I write for two hours a night and now I can't stop.

Don't worry. Only a few thousand people read this daily, anyway. And by a few thousand, I mean a few hundred. And by that, I mean a few dozen. And by that I mean, probably just you. And by that I mean, Kwanzaa, a joke in which only my sister will get this--and she only reads this blog when I tell her to.

Fifteen minutes short of the two hour time limit. Does writing an email count?

Signing off.

Sunday, September 27, 2009

Baking a pumpkin spice cake.

Don't you wish you were here???

Yesterday, I didn't end up teaching "Ethical Spellcraft." My class took a vote and people wanted to learn about Tarot. So, I taught people Tarot stuff. I think they learned things. They certainly laughed a lot. So even if they didn't learn anything, they certainly had fun.

Got my reading from Lilith yesterday. Gotta do some witchy clean-up work, securing the space. Honestly, I have to do that PHYSICALLY around the house as well, cleaning out stuff, fixing things, etc. The spiritual and the physical often go hand in hand.

On that note, I need to go do dishes.


Saturday, September 26, 2009

I'm a lumberjack and I'm okay.

Woke at 5:00 a.m. this morning with an ancestor message for a friend of mine. Now that the dead have discovered our ability to text message, they don't let us go back to sleep until they see us press "Send."

Here's what was said: "In your search for the like-minded, embrace the differences, too. That's how we learn from one another."

It's just as likely to be a message meant for me as well.

Today is the PRIDE AT BATTERY PARK!!!!

Friday, September 25, 2009

Coming out of the Retrograde funk.....

I hope people are still speaking to me after this week. I'm normally very sweet and loving, but was pretty rancid for part of this week. Jorge was gracious. I was a hen-pecking BITCH last night at our King and Queen of Swords shoot--which is probably not a huge surprise. As I was telling a friend, shoots emulate the cards. While our models were great, the lighting was a pain in the ass.

The ride home was long. Our shoot was out in a deep pocket of Brooklyn and didn't finish until almost midnight. Because trains are slow that time of night, I didn't get home until after one. I believe I was cursing my blessings. Having a fabulous project to do and people who are working on it with me. Having finished a shoot I'd been worried about since beginning this Tarot deck journey nearly two years ago. Having a JOB in this bad economy for which I'd have to get up early for. For living in New York, the place I'd dreamed of living since I was a kid--even if it broke my wallet again this month and means that traveling five miles after midnight is a sojourn more aptly titled "Pilgrimage to Apartment."

But last night I dreamed of Marilyn. I don't remember what she said, but I believe she will stay in my dreams as a reminder to count, not curse, my friggin' blessings--even when they masquerade as inconveniences, annoyances, and severe tests of my goddamned patience.

Tomorrow is Pagan Pride Day here in NYC!!! I am so excited!!!

Thursday, September 24, 2009


It's appropriate to honor the God with due gifts.

(It's a little hard to see--but that's a flaming red lace thong on His ear)

I like how people are blaming Jorge.


Wednesday, September 23, 2009

A story from last night and many thanks to a hooker named Marilyn

First of all: One story from last night.

At the end of the show, I was tired. Two nights in a row of reading cards plus the days both days--was getting run down, and quickly. A young woman came to the table and asked for a reading. I said, as I've started saying, "How can I help you?" She wanted to know about the future. Then, she revealed that both her parents had been murdered a year before. What was she to do, now? Mother of fucking pearl....I said to myself. I am not trained to deal with this. Please, please God. Don't let me say anything stupid.

First thing's first: I shook the deck and said, "You will not find an answer as to why this happened in this reading. I wish you could, but it's not going to happen. What I can try to do is give you a few tools as to find methods to heal yourself. Will that work for you?"

She said yes. As per usual, I can't remember what I told her, but she walked away smiling--which is a hell of a lot better than when someone gets a reading from me and goes to lock themselves in the bathroom either to cry or eat pills. However, when she did walk away, I put my head in my hands on the table. How the hell do these things happen to people??? And why???

The next guy came to my table and just wanted a general reading. He looked at me blankly the whole time.

"Does this have any poignancy for you?" I asked.

"Not really," he said.

"Okay, then," I reshuffled the deck. "I'll tell you what has happened. I'm out of psychic juice. I am happy to give your money back." He kindly declined the refund, so I tried something else. I fanned the cards, face down, on the table.

"Pick one," I said. "I'll tell you everything I know about it symbolically, and you take from it what you will. Maybe there will be some kind of message for you."

He liked that idea and drew a card. When I told him everything I knew about it, he walked away smiling. So, even if it was probably the lamest reading ever, he didn't go to the bathroom for tears or drugs and I got to keep the five dollars. I did the same thing for the next dude, who again let me keep the five dollars even though I was out of juice, and was happy with the "Here's the symbolism" reading.

See, fellow readers? It's best to be honest with folks. When we're done, we're done. Likely, they'll want to get the cards to tell them something anyway.


Saturday night, I had two dreams.

The first was of KM. I still dream of him on a regular basis. Sometimes, we're laughing at the situation we're both going through. Sometimes, we're fighting. Last week, we were on the dream phone and all I could say was "WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY???" The call kept dropping before he could answer. Saturday night, I don't remember the scenario. But I wasn't happy with whatever it was we talked about, and I remember him not being happy, either. I left him there, staring at the ground, and "came back" to whereever I came "from," arriving at an airport with my friend Mike. My ex-lover TM had come to pick us up, for whatever reason.

I must have said this before--but I'll say it again. NEVER name your Coven "Nymphs of Pandemonia." We were disorganized. Everything started three hours late. But our parties were awesome and we got laid a lot, as to be expected. And also as to be expected, we blew apart over a penis. This particular penis happened to belong to TM. He and my now Ex-Coven sister ended up together and thereby ended the "Nymphs of Pandemonia."

Oh, well. If it didn't happen one way, it would have happened another. It feels like a high school complication, looking back on it. People are people. People hook up. People go away. People come back. Covens have short shelf-lives and something named NOP was a miracle for lasting the 18 months that it did. I think we're all in better places now. Novices of the Old Ways was born out of the dregs of the old Coven, and for it I'm incredibly thankful.

But in my dream, the former coven sister, Phoenix, arrived at the airport with TM. I was furious and wouldn't speak to her. She pulled me aside and said, "Have you even noticed that I'm here?" I replied, "What right have you to return? Why would you insert yourself into my thoughts." Then, I said some very, very mean things that made her cry. Before we could to back to our male companions, when they would see she was hurt and know that I'd made that way, I tried to smooth things over, but couldn't pull up an apology when I had none to make. "I'm glad I said these things to you here, and not in waking life," I said. And then woke up.

Then, I was mad.

Why was I still dreaming of KM, TM and Phoenix? I don't want to think about any of them. I avoid talking about all three of them because it only makes me mad. I scribbled in my journal all the way up to Inwood. Cursing and pissing on the pages. "Leave me alone, dumb thoughts!!!"

Then, I was interrupted by a hooker named Marilyn.

She saw me writing in my journal and complimented my cursive handwriting.

"God bless you! You have a gift. I wish I could write like that. I wish so I could write like that...."

I always got reprimanded in school for having shitty-slanty cursive writing. I appreciate the effusion. I wrote her name down on a piece of paper in the cursive, and gave it to her. Her name was Marilyn.

She went on and one about her blessings. Her new shelter. Her shower. Being clean. Having clean clothes. Having eight children, though she doesn't see them anymore. Being HIV positive, but still alive. Having made it on her own in the streets. She was alive. She said she was blessed. Beaming smile radiating from her, I knew it was true.

The woman on my left was all dressed for church. She looked spectacular in a green dress and a hat that looked like a fabric fountain. She looked up from her Bible a few times to acknowledge Marilyn and then went back to her reading. Marilyn liked her outfit and wanted to talk to her about it. But the lady wanted to read her Bible.

I'm not a saint. I honestly wanted to just scribble in my journal and be left alone. I'm giving a lot of justice to Marilyn's speech, because it isn't easy to follow the thought-process of a subway-riding street person. But, really. Wouldn't the Gods prefer I give this poor woman my ear for just a few stops than to scribble about what I think the Gods might want from me in my coffee-stained, ass-printed notebook? Certainly, the Christian lady's God would have preferred she help that woman than sit there and read about what Christ wanted from her. The woman on the other side of me gave Marilyn a little money. I had none. But Marilyn didn't ask for it. Just wanted to show me her poetry. Which I read. It wasn't good, but it had soul. I was happy to have met Marilyn.

When Marilyn left, I was thankful. Wow. My only real problems are me not being able to figure out my stupid emotional baggage. But Marilyn was the blessed one because despite her fatal illness, separation from her children and tenuous living situation, she was indeed blessed. I counted my blessings the rest of the ride home. I was ready to honor the Gods at Mabon.

Last night, to top it all off, I dreamed I was reading a Pagan writer's biography alongside The Goddess. "All these so-called accomplishments," She said, pointing out the number of books the writer had written, c.d.s recorded and Conferences taught. "What this doesn't say is what this person does to better their fellow man. That's what this biography should be full of." I woke thinking of Jacob Marley in A Christmas Carol, "ManKIND should have been my (motherfucking) business."

Okay, Lady. I'z done hearded.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

It's possible that a Witch's true powers....

...are merely the rumors that go around about her. (sigh...)

I am tired and grazing on corn chips because I am tired. Worked the nine-to-five and then went to Larkin Grimm's show two nights in a row where I read Tarot. Met some very nice people.

If you haven't heard of Larkin, check her out immediately.

That is all. Off to bed-bye.

Friday, September 18, 2009


Work is slow today, and I'm distracting myself from Ovulation pains for a moment. The "blessed" (and by that I mean, SUCK-ed...) IUD makes its presence known not only when I'm flowing, but when I'm laying an egg as well. Gah. Be patient with my bitching about the coil. I do recognize that I could have it removed, but once I get used to it, it will be hormone free-b.c. that will be good until I a.) want to spawn or b.) turn 37. Yay!!! But it takes about six months to stop wrenching.

Now that the cold sweats have vanished and the trembling subsided (YES!!! IF YOU'RE WONDERING!!! IT'S THAT FUCKING BAD!!!!)


Our Group's Mabon celebration is this coming weekend. I've realized recently, as I've mentioned before, how somehow I fell out of touch with my own connection to the Mysteries. Witchcraft felt, in the beginning, like I was standing on the shore of a great mysterious ocean, letting the pearly waves lap at my toes and beckon me to join. Someday, I would swim to its depths. I now know there is never fully a way to swim to those depths and one will always be standing on the shore--but now my shore is littered with noises: Group planning, writing, reading, conferences, travel, navigating relations with other faiths, navigating relations with my family, navigating dumbass Witch politics--these things are the screaming tourists, the lifeguard megaphones and the motorboats of an otherwise peaceful area.

In addition to making time twice a day to connect with my Gods in the simple, innocent way I once did (to the best of my abilities...), but also making sure I place as much personal spiritual experience in our Sabbats as do the Group members. It's too easy to get caught up in the "who goes where," "what happens now..." "no one is getting possessed, are they???" mess of it. I'm also bad to not give full thought to my gifts and offerings at Sabbats--taking the stance of, "I got everyone here--isn't that enough?" No, Weber. It's not enough.

I've asked our members to bring a non-toxic offering to leave at the Cedar tree to thank the Gods for the gifts of the past year. I have decided to bring an apple, a vial of salt water, a gourd, and a handful of Carolina Aromatic Rice. Here's why:

THE APPLE: For what I have learned.
For my 3rd Degree Initiation. For the lessons I've learned through writing and running the rituals. For the classes I took at Union. For the people I've met who've taught me things. For the Spirits I've encountered who gave me messages. For the time with my teachers. For the things I've learned from our members. For the books I've read. For the messages in the music I've listened to. For the revelations in meditation. For the things I've learned from the students in the classes that I've taught.

SALT WATER: For the tears I've cried.
Good GOD. Haven't cried so many goddamned tears since the seventh grade. Tears of stress, tears of fear. Tears of being in love and having that beautiful love returned. The tears in the trials I faced with this love. The tears in being let down by this love. The tears in saying goodbye. The tears in anger. The tears in guilt. The tears in being loved by friends and members of the community. The tears in hearing kind words. The tears of joy in giving my Goddaughters their first spiritual exercise. The tears of being forgiven for something I long felt guilty for (as in...nearly 20 years of feeling bad....). The tears of hope. The shared tears with those who also lost. But tears teach us the depth of our heart. They teach us compassion and understanding for others. Only when one knows true sadness can one appreciate true joy. My heart is bigger now, stretched by the tears it created and shed in the past year. I thank those who helped create them, and I thank those who washed them away. Tears are cleansing. I'm pretty damned clean, as a result. And it's not just the juice fast.

THE GOURD: For my health.
It's seasonal, it's healthy, it comes from the earth itself in a variety of gorgeous colors and textures. I weathered through the year on very little sleep and high stress, for most of it, and am thankful for the minimal number of colds or otherwise ailments. The IUD was the most painful thing I experienced this year. It may be the MOST painful thing I ever experienced--at least since I got my braces at 12. But that's all I really have to complain about.

RICE: For the time I spent with my family.
I grew closer to my family this year than ever before. Carolina Aromatic Rice. It was appropriate.

As we walked through the park today to leave the offerings at the base of the tree, I was elated. I was thankful. I really have an awesome life.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009


People really seem to like my article!!!

Thanks for reading, everyone!


Tuesday, September 15, 2009


Last night, my Dad finally asked what Wicca was all about. (Previously, in life of Woo-Woo, this same Dad was referring to Wicca as "digging up graves-raising the dead- Celtic-whatever-witchcraft shit.") But last night, he said he was interested in learning what it was all about. Since I was clearly so far into it (translation: Not A Phase), he ought to know more about it. I sent him a link to purchase When Someone You Love Is Wiccan.

"I'll get it on my Kindle!" Dad said.

"Looks like it's cheaper that way, too..." I started.

"$9.99! Everything on Kindle is $9.99."

"Cool!" I replied. "You save seven dollars, Pop!"

"I know!" he said. "I get the Times there every day, too."

See, kids? This is how you get your parents to accept your alternative spirituality. Link it to their favorite toys. Showing them they've saved seven dollars helps, too.

Monday, September 14, 2009

A beautiful message.

Last night, before I went to my Pan and Brid altar to pray, I prayed at my Ancestor Altar and said, "I don't always feel you. Please don't forget about me. I haven't forgotten about you."

An hour later, a text message from a friend arrived. "A message from your angel guides: You shine brighter than even you know. :-) and your good deeds are well noted. Sleep well dear blessed Courtney and know you are deeply loved."

I went to sleep happy.

Sunday, September 13, 2009

Today is a good day. ;)

I was interviewed this morning for a book a very nice woman is writing on the Craft. It was great fun. Her eye-opening moments, connecting with me on shared experiences. "Prophetic dreams? Yeah!" "Spirits coming in the middle of the night? Totally!" "Some kind of kinetic connection to being the first born daughter? Me too!!!" It took me back to the early days in the Craft when I was discovering everything and giddy with the same intoxication the Born-agains spout. I think it's important in the paths of all clergy, go back to the romantic, moonlit beginnings of your time in the Craft. It's quite easy to get mulled in Witch politics, scheduling stuff, reading books and defending yourself at holiday get togethers with the fam. (By the way-- this week I've had to add "Seducing Husbands 30 Years My Senior" and "Plotting and Magickally Strategizing to End Relationships As A Way To Gain Power" to the most recent list of things that I'm "guilty" of. Frankly, I had no idea I was up to these things. *sigh.*)

Meeting her was refreshing. I was back in my parents' yard, summoning a nameless Moon Goddess, who appeared before my very sober eyes, and embracing Her light again. I don't know when I strayed from what I started on, but I hope She doesn't leave me behind again, or me leave Her behind, either.

I don't know if I'm a good leader--but I figure I must not be a bad leader. I just have to remember that this Group was given to me as a job--for now. I'm providing a place for people to worship their Gods and Goddesses, and find community with like-minded others. If I provide that, even if I'm not sure if I'm good, I know I'm not bad. And as a Witch I know there is never a good or bad, but varying degrees of both.

The rest of the day I spent in the park with my goddaughters and Bella. An old-timey Christian group sang hymns on a large stage. I requested "Hoof and Horn," but they didn't play it. I then went to see "9" with Jorge. We both liked it. It was a good day.

Saturday, September 12, 2009

How we handle things.....

Not saying this is the ONLY way to ask someone to leave, but it might be the better of the way to go.

I'm quite drained right now--had two Tarot gigs two nights in a row, plus working all day at the day job yesterday, and really need to go pull me back together before heading out into the Supportive Friend world this evening, which is bound to be much delight and debauchery. :)

Anyway, at the conclusion of my goddaughters' Wiccaning, there was an incident involving a volatile tantrum by one of our members that ended with me turning to the HP and our other Group members and declaring, "She's done. She doesn't come back." A week ago, I would have told you that sort of declaration is WRONG and dismissal of a member involves a consensus and much discussion. But no one argued with me or asked me to take time to reconsider. In fact, one person present said later she was glad there was no discussion on it. The tantrum was of a nature that was frightening to people present, and it wasn't the first time it had erupted from this individual.

The first time I dismissed someone, I wrote a stern and rather harsh letter which I imagine truly hurt her to read. At the time, it seemed right. At this time, I know my words came from a place of hurt and anger. In this most recent dismissal, I worked harder to use gentler words. The point of the action was the most important--not "how" it was done.

Sometimes, we get so hung up on making our point, saying the words we believe others deserve, that we don't ever just get the fucking job done. The Gods have often told me, "Keep your rituals simple. Stick to the point. Get it done. And...have fun." There isn't a whole lot of fun to be had in a dismissal, but instead of ranting over the reasons as to WHY this person needed to go, I simply tried to stick to the point of THAT she needed to. Here's what I wrote, followed by what I got back:

Hi F,

It truly was an unfortunate end to what otherwise was a beautiful weekend. You made an excellent representation of Ghob and I was thankful to have you along. Perhaps you are right and physical handicaps were not given sufficient consideration when planning our trip back. If it indeed would have been easier for you to take Metro-North back from New Haven, we certainly would have made that happen. I clearly did not adequately communicate the group's travel plans upon getting back to New York. I did not ask Birdie to drop me off, I was planning on riding back with her to Jersey City and then taking the trains back to my place, but she offered to stop by Inwood as it's relatively on the way to the Holland Tunnel from Spanish Harlem--a quick stop off the Harlem River Drive. Perhaps we should have had a meeting before hitting the road to make sure all needs were met. There are numerous ways this could have been handled differently.

I'm sorry you feel as though this Group has a dictator and that you do not feel comfortable responding to it. I think, however, there is a bigger movement going on here than simply a disagreement about who should have driven where. Many of these kinds of situations are brought about when a change needs to be made.

I've reflected on this quite deeply and I'm wondering if this all came about because your true Pantheon--Jesus, the Blessed Mother and the Holy Spirit--may be calling you home. I am aware of your wounded past with the Church, but the situation on Monday may have been an abrupt signal that perhaps it is time to re-establish your relationship with your Gods. Novices of the Old Ways was designed with the intent of helping people find their true path in life. I strongly encourage you to reflect on the reason this situation arose and see if perhaps you agree with me in my assessment. It may merely be a sign that your soul belongs on a different path. I think it's time you "went home." :)

You have been a marvelous contribution to our Group during your practice with us. Most certainly, Ghob selected you to be His vessel at the Wiccaning. No one there could have disagreed with that. Now, I'm encouraging you to take what you've learned from us and forge your new path.

I've spoken with Hank in superficial detail about this and he asked me to let you know that he would be more than happy to help find you an open-minded Christian fellowship in New York City--one that could help you not only forge your relationship with Jesus and Mary again, but also heal the wounds you've suffered from your past dealings with the Church hierarchy. He is expecting your email.

I also invite you to call upon me one-on-one to discuss your spiritual needs as they arise. I love you very much and want you to heal and embrace the all the light this beautiful world has to offer. You are a talented, bright and extremely special person whom I am privileged to know.

May the Gods and your Ancestors shine brightly on your path, so no shadows augment your way. :)

Blessed be,

(From F)
I wanted to apologize on Tuesday.

Thank you.

I have been unable to use the computer or the phone -- communicate for a few days and I am lifted by your kind words.

I agree that a change has occurred and it caused my isolation.

I apologize for "freaking out." I can give you the step by step analysis of this particular character flaw... but suffice it to say that i am aware of it. I know I harm people. I harm myself every time. No joke. I'm sorry - so so sorry for everyone.

That being said, I no longer "hate" myself for having an "unusual" character flaw. I might even go so far as to say that I've found peace in it. I see and hear other people so much better now. I see other people and their flaws. i have begun loving them and begun loving mine. It may seem weird, but that's the Wryd of My Life. My temper is socially unacceptable. i accept that. These "flaws" often make me lonely and afraid (which perhaps adds to the problem) but I'm throwing love energy at it.

You use the word, "wounded." I am not and never have been wounded by the Church. I ain't THAT old! I escaped my home every Sunday and went to church. It was a refuge for me. I just became cynical and too right-brained and went from agnostic to atheist in no time. I was a terrible atheist, btw, as most artists are...

I will go back and hang with the old crones at the Rosary Society. I love the Catholic Church. It made me pagan. OBM is my main goddess. She has helped me and warmed me. She is my main Goddess. I spent ten + years calling myself an atheist, but she never left my side.

Odin is my Lord. He came to America disguised as a "tradition." I love HIM!

Jesus, in my mind, is the first personal god to approach me. Alone. I don't believe he will be the last. I have to laugh that he asked me to help his public image when I can't maintain my own! Perhaps I should just do as I'm bloody told already. Maybe I'm being punished for stalling.

I don't believe in one strict pantheon. I believe everything mutates and changes as human-god connections change.

I believe I am wounded by family. And not just in this life. I believe my ancestors are very active in my life (they are on my back!) I assume I will be introduced to the pre-Christians gods some day. When i am ready.

You have taught me so much, I don't know how to thank you. I won't be joining a "christian" church any time soon! hhaha! Although I like Easter Services in protestant churches and I respect most.

Tell Bella that I respect her temper as I respect mine. I pray she moves forward in peace and pride. Peace and pride, for all of us.

If you could tell everyone that had to witness my panic attack that I am sorry and to go in peace and pride. Hey! i like that. Just an apology. Tell everyone that I don't expect anything. I know my behavior was off the charts. I am not asking for forgiveness. I only need to forgive myself.

peace out and may your tree blossom.

Thursday, September 10, 2009

Lotsa stuff....

My goddaughters were Wiccaned last weekend, and I have to say goodbye to a member, which is rather sad, but necessary, I guess. I will fill all in when I've enough mental fortitude to process all the information. Initiation brings change, even in the mildest attempts at it.

Thursday, September 3, 2009

Goddess give me patience... that I don't kill anyone today. And by "kill," I mean, "chew the head off." And by "Chew the Head off" I mean "Lose my fucking cool." I say this so no one comes and arrests me thinking that I'm actually contemplating murder--because I'm not. Although the stakes certainly get set high sometimes.

I dreamed last night the Tarot deck was finished and came to my house in neat little boxes. That was a good dream.

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Today, I am in an online magazine!

I read my friend Rev's Tarot and she documented it for Time Out New York! Check me out HERE!!! I'm in photo #7.

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

Crashed Orientation at Seminary Today.

It's okay. The Admissions Counselor invited me.

There was free food and I sat with three very nice people, two of whom are starting Seminary this fall. One girl was from UCC. The other girl was a Spiritualist, and had even gone to that crazy town in Florida, full of mediums. I liked both of them, a lot.

I'm going to apply. But right now, I'm going back to work. I'm swamped.