Looking out at a world covered in an ice-encrusted blanket of about a foot-and-a-half of snow, it’s hard to imagine Spring is actually happening somewhere under there. But it is. Under there. Very slowly and quietly. If we personify the Earth, call the Material Principle Gaia and the Active Principle Green Man, it can help […]
Yep, it’s Spring. Last week the Groundhog did the thing, and now it’s Spring. Sort of. There’s this thing called thermal lag that means even though we’ve crossed a calendrical point of reference, it’s still colder than bejeezuz and it’s really not done snowing yet. It will catch up, and before you know it, the
Infinity is dark blue – not black – and not empty. Space, understand is neither infinite nor black, though it is vast beyond imagining, teeming with life, roiling between light and the absence of light, ever-changing and alive. Weirder things that we can imagine become and un-become. Life is determined, tenacious. Things are born; Things
The Dark awakens, but we fear not; The Night ascends, and we rise up to meet it, For Night is the time when the Light is brightest. Stars glimmer in the deep dark; The moon is more radiant than ever; We shine brighter, too, in contrast. Winter is the sleeping time, the learning time, The
Words spill onto unspoiled white and where one there was nothing a new world is born Words fall from lips into an empty room and where one there was silence ideas form Words slip between fingers and where once there was anguish there is relief Words show up in the damndest places and where once
It has become my tradition to take the last week of the old year and the first week of the new year off. No students, no clients, and no pressure. It’s necessary. Anyone who teaches anything to anybody needs a break to clear their buffers, and anybody who sees clients for healing, coaching, mentoring, or
‘Twas the Night before Solstice, when all through the house Everyone was preparing, from Grandma to Mouse; A cauldron was hung ‘neath the mantlepiece sigils, To provide us with strength for our Longest Night vigils; The children were sharp-eyed, punch drunk and anxious, Testing to the utmost their family’s patience; Gramma sang old songs, harmonized
Blessed Night stretches Her arms reaching ever outward To embrace the sleeping world Too often we fear her Our Dark Mother The Goddess of Winter The Hag, the Crone The Crabby But Wise One Who dispenses wisdom That tastes bitter before We learn to seek its sweetness She brings cold, and death But blessings, too
A big ugly spotlight has been trained on misogyny and sexual mores in the US over the past two ugly, gods-forsaken years. Maybe the one good thing to come out of all this is the number of women who have said, “Okay, enough. I’m done taking it. I have held so much peace my bladder
Many many years ago, I belonged to a Pagan homeschooling forum. We were sharing our various holiday traditions one day, and one of our members shared a story that I just love. She said there was company over for dinner, and somehow something came up that her oldest daughter was feeling extremely grateful about, and
