"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. 

“F” is for Forest Witch

The clearest way into the Universe is through a forest wilderness.

John Muir

I am a Shamanic Witch, and my love is the Forest. 

The Forest is symbolic of the unconscious and its mysteries. It is an entryway into the Lower world, the world of shadow and transformation. In fairytales, the heroic Princess often has to travel the forest to transform herself. She meets here the Baba Yaga, the challenging Hag, the Evil Queen, the Dark Goddess, The Black Madonna, Our Lady of the Dark Forest, Our Lady of the Great Place Below…

As I continue to explore in life, I am the naïve Princess, still. And, as an initiate of the Mysteries of the Descent, I am the dark challenging Witch as well. Both sides of me roam the Wood, in the daytime and the Night, under the New Moon, the full, and the Dark. 

 I am Raven totem; the photos posted here by Pamela Joye show a ritual done in the Salem Woods under the influence of the Crow Moon. I wear a skirt by Wings of Sin depicting the Full Moon with the Black Corvid Goddess. I am The Morrigan.

 The Moon that day was in Virgo. Virgo is Virgin, “whole unto the self”. I am the Black Madonna, Our Lady of the Black Woods. She is "black, but comely", as in the Song of Songs. The unknown one. 

Spirit of Wind blesses and clears

Calling the Quarters

Bowing to the Black Madonna

I chose this time to do Magick that protects and heals, that clears away that which no longer serves, that purifies. To this end, the Great Wind Spirits, element of air, blew with mighty force, clearing away all that was destructive to this Wood. 

 The Witch of the East pulled off my hair ornaments and blew them away, challenging my vanity. 

I walk the Forest; I hold my hands in prayer for the dispossessed, the ones who can’t speak for themselves. The Coyotes who live in this Woods, raising families and hunting for food. They are vilified, but they are here because they belong; they take the place of the Wolf who once lived here. It is the absence of the Wolf that has caused the debilitating Lyme’s disease; the Wood has its lessons, if we but listen. It is the Black Madonna that holds the Coyote and Wolf close in Her arms, protecting, respecting, cherishing.

I speak with the Spirits of the Invisisbles, the Ancestors who lived in this Forest as Natives to this land. I can only guess at and envision your powerful magic and medicine.

Also to the Fae, who live and play in this Wood.

Come away, O human child!

To the waters and the wild
With a faery hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.
~William Butler Yeats, "The Stolen Child"

The Dark Lady is also Mother to the Swans and Geese at the Forest Estuary. She protects and provides for them. And the singing birds in the trees. And the trees themselves; it is said that those who understand the trees, understands herself.  Here is where the World Tree lives. All of us ARE the World Tree, and we do best to protect and love the Forest and Her gifts, to love ourselves in our complexity. 

The Forest is a kind of sanctuary, a place to become whole again. Entry in the Online Etymology Dictionary: sanctuary 

mid-14c., "...set apart for holy worship," from Anglo-Fr. sentuarie, from O.Fr. sainctuarie, from L.L. sanctuarium "a sacred place, shrine"... . General (non-ecclesiastical) sense of "place of refuge or protection" is attested from 1560s; as "land set aside for wild plants or animals to breed and live" 

Many Blessings on you, O Great Forest!

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.

Spiritual Dance

I was recently asked by a friend over tea: (paraphrased) How does your spirituality influence your bellydancing? 

I answer this question differently every time I'm asked, revealing its complex and fluid nature. And it's a subject that is of great import to me. 

My forthcoming Bellydance DVD, Theatre of the Dark Goddess, deals with many threads involved in the relationship between spirit and dance. But some thoughts after reading this Wikipedia:

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

 Spirituality can refer to an ultimate or an alleged immaterial reality;^[1] an inner path enabling a person to discover the essence of his/her being; or the “deepest values and meanings by which people live.”^[2] Spiritual practices, including meditation, prayer and contemplation, are intended to develop an individual's inner life; spiritual experience includes that of connectedness with a larger reality, yielding a more comprehensive self; with other individuals or the human community; with nature or the cosmos; or with the divine realm.^[3] Spirituality is often experienced as a source of inspiration or orientation in life.^[4] It can encompass belief in immaterial realities or experiences of the immanent or transcendent nature of the world.

Bellydance does indeed help me discover and rediscover my inner essence. And though its discipline and execution it is a spiritual practice. Drilling can turn into a meditation; the creation of choreography becomes a contemplation of inner archetypes. The act of creation is a ritual and a prayer. I pray to Thee, Great Goddess, that I might be a perfect conduit for your Divine Spirit.

Photo by Peter Paradise

I am most often trying to express what I experience in my inner world. As a shamanic artist I experience Underworld journey with all its shadows; it is my calling to transform the demons though my dance, giving them "voice" by being a medium for their wrath. It is shadow work--personal, yes, but collective as well.

Bellydance is ancient. It's modern form fuses back together the corporeal and the spiritual, as things were in times long ago. This is important to me. Bellydance has powerful healing properties--psychologically, physically, emotionally, spiritually. This healing power goes deeper than "body image" or self-esteem" only--it connects us back to our feminine center, the hara or place of power. I think that all of us hold in our collective unconscious "memories" of divine feminine power; Bellydance can connect us to that.

Bellydance is a great way to raise energy in ritual work! Perhaps this was part of its original purpose--to work as sympathetic magick for healthy childbirth and erotic power.

One of my first workshop teachers, Dunya of NYC, called her dance "Spiritual Bellydance". I love her great work, even--or especially--now. Her work combines the spirituality of Sufism with its whirling, with Bellydance. We were taught "Dancemeditation", a form of moving meditation that has strongly influenced the way I teach my own students the inner work of dance. It was Dunya's video that I watched over and over again to learn how to do her beautiful, graceful, fluid hand and arm work. She is a master who dances with a serenity, power and loveliness that is beyond compare.

The invisible world has much to do with dance; music itself is invisible! So is the spirit that moves us; I use dance to make my inner world visible. Some of it still stays invisible, but perceptible just the same. We have senses that perceive well beyond what the "five senses" can do; it is partly what we perceive with our other senses that gives dance--as experienced as audience and as dancer--its magic, its beauty, its feelings of sacred communion, and glamour. Spirit.  

Winslow Farm Animal Sanctuary

On Friday, Mike and I went to Winslow Farm Animal Sanctuary.

I've wanted to visit ever since I saw a spotlight on the place on NECN; it showed a peaceful place full of love for the rescued animals that resided there. Located in Norton, MA, Winslow cares for goats, horses, cats, dogs, peacocks, pigs, geese, doves, chickens, turtles, donkeys, lamas, alpacas, sheep, emus---all rescues, often from horrendous conditions. On the NECN feature, classical music played throughout the 16 acre sanctuary. On the day that I visited, the music of choice was Native American flute, encouraging serenity and healing.

Sturbridge with Goat

I of course fell in love with just about everyone I met. One of my first encounters was with a sheep named Sturbridge. Friendly and outgoing, he walked along with us on our tour of the farm. A lover of food and lots of it, he asked us a few times about maybe helping him out with some extra goodies. He later got into a scuffle with staff in the cat sanctuary when he tried to help himself to cat food. Hey, the goats were in there with the cats, why not him, too? "Out, Sturbridge!"

But wait...Why were the goats in the cat sanctuary? Well, as it happens, one of the goats was born there before it was a place for cats. He felt comfortable in this little house, so the goat stays.

This is the way it is throughout the Sanctuary: dogs hanging out with peacocks, cats with goats, lamas with geese, horses with emus. And more than amicably. In fact, many cross species friendships develop---for instance, one miniature horse loves the emus and enjoys walking with them side by side. They are quite a couple.

 Apparently there is always something new and surprising in the relationships between the residents. At one point we witnessed two doves sitting on the back of a peacock. Just hanging there. At the time we happened to be chatting with Debra, the modern St Francis who built the farm and has cared non-stop for these creatures for 25 years; when this happened between the birds, even she marveled and said she'd never seen that before. A sign of peace and beauty maybe.

Peacock on goat house

Not all is peace though. We did happen to witness a comedic duel between two emus. Well, OK, comedic to us, but serious business for the birds! The emus get along throughout the rest of the year, but come summer, watch out! It's mating season, and although there are no females at the farm to fight over, they still intend to keep their toe claws sharp and duke it out over territory. See video of staff breaking up the fisticuffs (no one got hurt!)

Emu video:
http://youtu.be/_Z7msJ1yxD4

Many of the stories are very sad. Like the ones who were nearly starved to death, or beaten, or lost limbs due to abuse or neglect. Some have psychological scars that are difficult to heal. A beautiful white cat named Spirit was left in a cage for 1 year with no room to move. When he was brought to the Sanctuary, he walked in circles for months, not sure how to use open space, not wanting to ever stop walking, not wanting to ever be confined again.

But these are survivors. A motley crew of the Goddess's creatures who got another chance and have taken it. Debra tries to find suitable happy homes for all before taking them into the Sanctuary; in this way she can keep the Sanctuary going for those who can't be placed elsewhere. But really, this is THE place to be for healing if you've got wings or four legs. Pandy the sheep dog, greeted us at the door, ready for action. At 13, she is so well cared for that she still loves the chase a pine-cone over and over to exhaustion.

Pandy (left)

The staff is all volunteer. The Sanctuary is run on fundraising and donations. They are also funded on admission fees ($7). Consider visiting :
Winslow Farm

37 Eddy Street
Norton, MA 02766-3513
(508) 285-6451

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.

Fear and the Sacred

On my mind is how to maintain a practice of love over fear. Of keeping up the spiritual discipline. Of not letting fear win the day.

Fear.

Fear of what? Fear of the unknown, of losing, of dying maybe. Fear of envy, of guilt, of other people, of not loving enough, or being or having enough.

Fear is insecurity. Fear makes us lie, to be inauthentic, to cheat ourselves and others. Fear leads us down the wrong path, has us reacting instead of acting from what really has heart and meaning. Fear leads to anger, and anger, if it takes us over, has us making the wrong moves.

Not that fear doesn't have its place. Of course, it does. It alerts us to things that are dangerous. It tells us when we are under attack, when we are at risk of being hurt. The resulting anger can help us defend ourselves, to keep our rightful territory. Yes.

But I am talking more about long standing fear, habitual fear. The kind that makes us envious, greedy, silly, elitist, backbiting, cruel, gossipy, overly cautious, trying to control the behavior of others, pointing our fingers. The kind that has us looking over our shoulders, worried that someone is going to take what belongs to us, the kind that has us forgetting what is sacred.

Sacred.

I love this word.
It is the root word of sacrifice.
(ETYMOLOGY: Middle English, from Old French, from Latin sacrificium : sacer, sacred ; see sacred + facere, to make; see dh- in Indo-European roots)

There is always a sacrifice involved in making something sacred. Isn't there? Is that where the fear comes from? That some (presumably false) part of us has to die in order for sacred substance to reveal itself?

My creative life is my primary altar, my creation and performance is my ritual. As an artist, I understand the effect that fear has on creative work. It serves to constrict, to suffocate good ideas, to inhibit intuition, to make things smaller, more shallow. It sucks the soul, the sacred life, right out of it. I have experienced this phenomenon.

I have been subjected to the fear of other artists, too; witnessed it.  They create illusions of conformity, scarcity and exclusivity; they pat each other on the backs for their surface success, but fear the transient nature of it...

Fear replicates itself.

People who are sure of themselves never feel the need to put anyone else down to feel OK. When we meet someone like this, we know it! The world gravitates toward people who love themselves, who put love first, before fear. These are the people who encourage us to do the same, who are not afraid of another person's success.

No one owns the sacred. Who could presume to do so! The gods laugh at us for being so foolish!!

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