"J" is for: Is it My Job?

I’ve received many responses to my post  A Witch Who Cannot Hex, Cannot Heal, (“H” for the Pagan Blog Project). The majority have been supportive and positive. Some people have even said that they have felt liberated by what I said. Wow! Other people have disagreed, and that’s fine. Not everyone is going to be comfortable with the ideas in the post.

But one argument stands out for me as totally absurd: that I shouldn't write these things because  it will give the rest of the world the wrong impression about Witches; that it only confirms to the world that Witches are all about curses, people will take it the wrong way...Etc.

Oh, please! Why should I be responsible for what other people think? I can’t control that. It’s not my job to try. I don't represent all Witches everywhere, and though yes, I expect that my words could influence thought, its not my job to control the outcome of this influence. I am reminded  of what’s been said a thousand times to LGBT people by other LGBT people: that they should modify their behavior (i.e. not be too “flamboyant” or demonstrative) in order to be “accepted” by society. Oh yank, yank, yank. How does that usually turn out? The same has been said to every oppressed group in history, from women to African Americans, to indigenous tribes everywhere, to Witches.

For this week’s Pagan Blog Project post, I am inspired to write for “J”: “Is it my ‘Job’?”.

My job, and the job of Witches, is to answer to our higher selves, and to embrace our CALLING. Not to obsess about what the neighbors will think. I am not saying that sometimes it is not necessary to stay on the down low for self-protection. That is survival, and I get that. But to be less than oneself in order to “accepted”? Ha! News flash ya’ll: if you have to make yourself smaller for anyone, they’re not going to accept you anyway. That’s how it is, that’s how it’s always been, and that is how it will be. Don’t you think that the witches who were hung and burned thought about modifying their behavior to get along before they ended up on the stake or gallows? Don’t you think that many tried this to see if maybe they could be “accepted”? Besides, you’re not being accepted if you are changing who you are. Some charade that you are acting out is being merely tolerated.

I had a long conversation with Laurie Cabot the other day, as we were preparing for my interview with her about her days as a Bellydancer. (interview to appear in Belly Dance New England magazine soon!) We talked about this idea of one’s calling, and how it is essential that, in order to be truly empowered to answer a calling, one MUST NOT entertain the smallness of some minds. To do so is pointless and a waste of energy. Laurie Cabot is one who has sacrificed a great deal to be true to herself as a Witch, as an artist, and as a woman over many decades. Though she has paid the price, she still felt that it was essential, for true sovereignty over one’s life as a Witch and/or simply as a human being, that we not expend energy what “those people” say.

Jungian psychologist James Hillman, in his book The Soul’s Code: In Search of Character and Calling, talks a great deal about the dangers of not answering the call that comes from within. He says that we are all born with an “acorn” (seed) or “daimon” (not demon, read carefully, please). He asserts that when the daimon within is thwarted for whatever reason (“acceptance” by society? “Sacrificing” for the “sake of the kids”?) the person becomes twisted up and passes this fucked-up-ness down into the next generations. He says that in order to have a healthy, empowered life, one must answer the calling fully. This is not a selfish act; on the contrary, it creates an empowered path to health that is then passed down to those who come after. And check it out: we then become the best elders and ancestors we can be! How about it? Win-win.

Whatever our stance on hexing and healing, I think that it’s a waste of time for any of us to hold back our ideas and feelings just because “we’re not accepted in society yet.” Seriously? How long should we wait? I’m not holding my breath. I’m going to set my intention to do my real job, which is to be myself, fully and lovingly. Acceptance starts within.

And as within, so without.

Happy May Day! A Blessed Beltaine to you!!!

Blessed Beltaine to all my friends near and far! And a very blessed Samhain to my friends in the southern half of  Gaia.

I am loving this video slideshow of the Betaine Fire Festival  in Edinburgh, Scotland, and I intend to make it my business to be there next year!




Love and Eros,
Aepril

“F” is for the Goddess Flora, and Flowers.

Spring has come early to Salem, MA. Its only March, and we’ve had many summery days already.

Next week I will be having artist Sharonn Bradbury of Witch City Ink complete my tattoo of flowers along both side of my hips and belly. We chose to do Lilies, a flower of remembrance, grieving, beauty, and also of the Goddess Lilith.

Last fall, my sister died. Not long after that, my friend and fellow bellydance artist Jeniviva Mia passed away. Both were about the same age. It was a devastating time, and my heart still hurts.

My flowers are for the mourning.

Both sister women had memorials, but in different ways. My sister was memorialized in the Black Forest of Germany during a trip where I taught and performed at Tribalfestival Offenberg. I was honored to have the support of a group of people who worked with me on a Samhain ritual. We honored the Dead by the fires in the night in the Black Forest.
Article about the ritual in hagalla Magazine.(in German)
My blog post about Germany and the Black Forest.

My friend was memorialized through a bellydance show and public ritual here in Salem, where she had twice came up from NYC to teach and perform.

My flowers are for the Dead.

Almost 5 months later, It is now Spring. The Goddess Flora is here with us already. Though her time is not “officially” until Beltaine, she is still popping up everywhere in the warm New England weather. Flora is a goddess of sex and pleasure, as well as flowers. She also has a history of honoring the Dead.

Flowers are for Death…and Eros and Rebirth.

My flowers are for the knowing that all are reborn. And all acts of Love and Pleasure are the rituals of the Goddess. That beauty is found everywhere, even–or especially--in grief and broken hearts. The flowers will move on my belly as I bellydance, continuing to explore the Mysteries of sex, love, death, transformation, spirit, beauty, darkness and light, through my art.

I have created this post as a participant in the Pagan Blog Project. 

4 years ago, Coda became spirit

Today is a special day. It's the four-year anniversary of Coda's passing into the world of spirit. This is always a very emotionally charged day for me. Coda's passing was difficult. Yet each anniversary I feel in awe of the powers of Nature, the beauty of impermanence, the importance of being here in the Now, like Coda was.

Mike and I spend the night of September 1 with the candles on Coda's altar lit. We tell each other stories about Coda, laughing and crying. I do most of the crying, Mike does a lot of comforting.

Today I spent the afternoon in the woods at the Ipswich River Wildlife Sanctuary. On the day of the anniversary, we spend the day doing things that Coda would've liked to do, like walking the trail and listening to the birds, the wind, and the flow of the river. I invite his spirit to join me if it is as he wishes. Certainly, he was with me today.

Grief and loss are unpredictable in that one can walk through life not feeling grief intensely, and then suddenly something comes along like an anniversary and it hits hard. Coda is never far from my thoughts, but these anniversaries are always very intense. He was my soul-mate. My Cerberus. My wolf-guardian. My child.

I let Coda 's spirit know that he is always loved, never forgotten, and never replaced.

I have resolved that I'm going to invite a new four-legged into our family. After four years, I am ready. We are thinking that we will do this around Yule/Christmas time. No one will ever replace Coda. But, I'm ready to open my heart to loving someone new.

Our time on earth might be finite, but Love is infinite.

Prayer of St Francis, Patron saint of animals, nature, and the environment

I was reminded of The Prayer of St Francis as Mike and I stood by a statue of St Francis last night. It was a beautiful summer night, and our thoughts, as they often do, turned to Coda. Standing next to the Protector of animals and nature, my thoughts also turned to the animal sanctuary I hope to create someday.

The Prayer of St Francis was a consolation to me when Coda died almost 3 years ago. (St Francis's wolf died of old age, too.)

It is also a reminder to me that no matter how despairing I may feel about the health of the planet and cruelty toward animals (so-called "domestic and wild), it is my internal peace and the quality of my own heart and thoughts that will bring healing magick into the world. Staying centered in a loving heart best equips me to help and heal. I WILL be able to give more creatures a place to call home. Coda will help guide me, as will St Francis.

 Prayer of St Francis

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.

Where there is hatred, let me sow love.

Where there is injury, pardon.

Where there is doubt, faith.

Where there is despair, hope.

Where there is darkness, light.

Where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master,

grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled, as to console;

to be understood, as to understand;

to be loved, as to love.

For it is in giving that we receive.

It is in pardoning that we are pardoned,

and it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.

Amen.

Grandmother

I was blessed with the opportunity to spend time with my Grandmother this past week.

Wednesday was her 92nd birthday.

My Grandmother is very sick. Physically worn-out, her body hurts. Her heart is sick with missing my Grandfather; they married when she was just 16. Now she says she is ready to go to God.

I feel helpless. Death and old age! I feel lost about how to give her more comfort, to help her find peace. And I feel angry--at Nature, for having us ever get old. Why this suffering?

The old and sick don't last like this in the wild. Is this elongated aging and dying the price we pay for domestication?

I had the chance to talk with her about our family. I asked her to tell me stories about herself and my Grandfather. I asked about her parents. I asked about my father--what was he like very young? She doesn't like to talk abut herself, but still I recieved her help for my current project of building our family tree.

In her youth, she was charismatic and magical, lovely. She was intense with piercing blue eyes. She worried a lot and cared for everyone. She was popular and charming and liked to drink and laugh. She is the family member from whom I inherited music; a dancer, she and my Grandfather danced together at contests and shows.

My Grandmother is still beautiful.

Great Goddess, Lady Mary, You to whom my Grandmother has prayed over her rosary so many times...please Lady, give her some comfort and peace.

Skeleton Woman: Solar Eclipse July 1, 2011

 Solar eclipses are wildcards. I happen to love wildcards (maybe because I have Uranus strong in my chart). One never knows exactly when the power of the solar eclipse is going to strike. It can happen days before during or after the eclipse event. To me this is part of its shadowy beauty.

 The chart for this Solar Eclipse shows a grand cross involving some very serious characters: Saturn, Lord of Time, Pluto, Lord of Death, Uranus, Lord of Change in the Sun and the Moon themselves. This is serious karmic business, almost apocalyptic in nature. Something will be born; something will have to die.

 The Sabian symbol for Friday's solar eclipse at 9° Cancer is: "A Small Naked Girl Bends Over A Pond Trying To Catch A Fish". Cancer rules the emotions; ruled by the Moon, she is a nighttime spirit. Perhaps the small girl is trying to catch a fish by moonlight? What kind of fish is she trying to catch and how deep is the pond?

 One of my favorite books in the world is one by Clarissa Pinkola Estes entitled Women Who Run with the Wolves. In her chapter "When the Heart is a Lonely Hunter", she tells us the story of Skeleton Woman, the girl who was thrown into the sea by her father. Rejected and discarded she rots at the bottom of the pond, becoming a fearsome thing of bone and hair. One day, a Fisherman comes along hoping to catch the biggest fish ever. He instead catches Skeleton Woman, and, seeing her bald head rise above the water as he pulls on his fishing pole, attempts to throw her back and run away as fast as he can. But, having been pulled from the water, Skeleton Woman seems to chase him wherever he goes. She's actually still attached to his fishing line which he still has attached himself. Eventually, the frightened Fisherman has an intuitive flash and heart opening and realizes that maybe the best thing to do would be to sing to Skeleton Woman instead of running away. As he does so her heart begins to beat again and she becomes the beautiful flesh and blood woman of his dreams.

Estes interprets the story to be about the Life/Death/Life nature of love; that though we may be out to catch the biggest fish ever, to find the pond that yields fish after fish forever, in order to find real sustenance and Love one has to sing to Skeleton Woman. In order to have Life, one has to also accept Death. And She is beautiful.

The naked young girl is the Fisherman but she is also the fish. She is a yet to be developed part of our own souls that wishes to retrieve herself. So, who is the naked young girl inside of us? What have we rejected about ourselves and/or what vulnerable part of ourselves do we put aside in order to catch the biggest fish?

Somewhere in our lives a new era is waiting to Dawn. But these are the rules: Experience things as deeply as you can. Recognize what your real needs are and own them. Love yourself madly, ESPECIALLY your "ugly" parts. Dance in the Moonlight. Know that "beautiful" doesn't necessarily mean “pretty” (and vice versa). And be willing to sing gently and lovingly to Skeleton Woman if her bald head emerges from the waves.

love is a river...

Love is bigger and stronger than I am. I have come to realize how much I've sometimes resented this fact, and, instead of becoming the power of love, I have seen it as outside of myself; I've tried to control it, to resist, to even be above it. But love is a river...

Love is a river; drink from it.--Rumi

Every human heartbeat...

"Every human heartbeat, he’d said many times, is a universe of possibilities. And it seemed to me that I finally understood exactly what he’d meant. He’d been trying to tell me that every human will has the power to transform its fate. I’d always thought that fate was something unchangeable: fixed for every one of us at birth, and as constant as the circuit of stars. But I suddenly realised that life is stranger and more beautiful than that. The truth is that no matter what kind of game you find yourself in, no matter now good or bad the luck, you can change your life completely with a single thought or a single act of love"

---Gregory Roberts

The redemptive power of making art...

I love all my songs from The Furies' Prayer. I own them fully and lovingly...

My childhood was one that was filled with confusion, pain, and hardship. Though I also had a lot of joy, I had to struggle to survive.

My album The Furies' Prayer is partly a testament to that time, and to my life as a volatile and confused young adult. I love this album with all my heart, as well as loving that person that I once was (and still am), again, with all my heart. And, in fact, many of the songs aren't autobiographical at all, but come from putting myself into the shoes of others who have endured hardship and torment--the disempowered, the scapegoated, the sacrificed, etc. I have also explored the darker nature of sex and love through this album, as well as the sacred erotic. I have spoken as the Dark Feminine.

I am truly, madly, fiercely in love with the power of art. I believe it has saved my life.

After releasing The Furies' Prayer in Dec 2006, I stopped making music. This was due in part to the fact that my bellydance life began to take over in strange and wonderful ways. But there's also something else: I said what I wanted--what I NEEDED--to say in that album. I named the demons; I screamed and screeched at them, I fought them and lived through them and dreamed them and accused them and wept over them and fucked them and let them do their best and worst to me until...
Change.

Yeah. Wow. I guess so.

It's a funny thing how healing can sometimes sneak up on you, how you can suddenly realize that the person you thought you were is now altered, changed. Isn't that what I always wanted?...

So I sit at my keyboard now, knowing that it's time to make music again. What currently haunts me? It's not so much the betrayals and the rage and the feelings of powerlessness.... No, it's different now.... Oh, not that I can say that I am no longer tormented and angry-- like many an artist, I will always have a membership in that club. There are many elements and themes in my previous work that I still need to work with and explore and express...
It's just that, well, the emphasis is different...shifted.

Love is stronger than death...

Coda died one year and six months ago. My Soul Mate, my Dream Boat, my Cerberus. Thus far, I have been unable to write about him to music. I have danced my grief as The Washer at the Ford, but I haven't sung it...it seems that the grief is too big to say, to sing, it has had to be expressed with my body first.

But there's more. Coda's death put me face to face with Death. As in the mythical stories of mere humans beholding deity without a guise, it nearly extinguished my soul. Death laughed in the face of my selfishness and narcissism, of my needs and expectations and wish to control the outcome. But, as it released Coda from an old and tired body, it also released me from some of the things that bound me to my pain. I was left with grief, yes, but oh, how I loved that boy...My heart could burst with it...Love, pure love, terrible, liberating, joyous, immortal LOVE.

Love.
Love IS stronger than Death.
Love is what matters. Nothing else really does. Love is what heals. Love is not always fluffy, happy, easy, pastel. But it does bring joy, fulfillment, life. There is no point living without it. And there is not a soul that can't have it. (There is always someone to love.)

Death has been my teacher. Art has been my savior. Love is my reason.

My heart is open. I create. I heal. I change. I live.

My music as Aepril Schaile and the Judgement:
www.myspace.com/aeprilschaile


Coda as a young man