Saturn – Page 8 – The Abysmal Witch

Abymsal Witch – Episode 5

Last night I did a ritual to say farewell to my friend. I recorded a podcast episode right afterwards (so that I would remember what I had done) as I thought some of you might find such a ritual interesting and/or helpful someday.

Above is the altar (or part of it). I think it’s pretty. But then, candlelight makes most things lovely. Following is a picture of the inside of the offering bowl (for a description of what is in it and what it was used for, you’ll need to listen to the podcast).

Sometimes we need to remember to not just drink from life, but sniff it, too. Scent is a powerful tool, but that is a topic for another day.

Take care of yourselves, and those around you.

~Abysmal Witch

I lost a kindred spirit today.

Not long after I started working at my University, I made a phone call to our central finance department to try and fix some problem (the details of which are last in the annals of time…it has been over twelve years after all). And that’s when I ‘met’ C.

C was wonderfully capable – he could fix or find someone to fix any problem that related at all to his world. But that wasn’t the important part.

We didn’t meet in person for maybe a year. Over the last twelve years we’ve probably met as many times in person though talked on the phone a bit more than that. But that didn’t matter.

When we talked, we talked. He had the most ridiculous stories. I’m 93% sure they were all real (or is that I’m sure at least 93% of them were real?). He was outrageous, funny, bright, and we would share work stories and home stories and opposite sex stories. He threatened to do nasty things to my new car. He was the ring-leader of his morning commute (he would do things like convince the newbie ((the same people rode the bus day in and day out)) that the goodies that someone had brought that day was a regular occurrence and convinced the newb to bring goodies their next time on that bus).

I’m shocked he was never brought up on sexual harassment charges.

But I guess that was ultimately due to his caring nature (though some of the things he said! lol).

About two months ago I heard that he was in the hospital with cancer. He was in his early 50s, quite possibly going to take early retirement. He’d had various physical difficulties over the years but he’d never let that stop him from living life.

I was going to visit him that weekend but my back acted up and I didn’t make it. My own life took over and time passed. And then I wasn’t sure he was still in the hospital, so I would have to call and check he was there before dropping in on him.

Today I learned that he died on Saturday.

I am so sad. We weren’t close friends, but he was a kindred spirit and he is gone. I regret that I never said a final ‘you nutcase!’ to him. I could wallow in self-blame, ‘should’ on myself for not getting to the hospital as I intended. But that is foolish. I made the choices I made and he certainly would not blame me for it.

There are so many things I could focus on but there’s just one I want to say:

To all of my kindred spirits out there, whether I’ve met you in person or only online, whether we’re close friends or random acquaintances, whether we ever get the chance to spend much time together or not, I honour our kindred nature.

You rock 🙂

unnnnn Type 2 Zombie

It is important to recognize the different types of zombies. Both to be sure to use the most effective method of slaughter or immobilization and also to recognize the first incipient signs of turning in you or your allies.

Type 2 is the post-long-day zombie. Identifiable by the swollen eyes and slow, dragging movement. Very similar to Type 1’s (the too-early-morning zombie) in the movement making it all the more important to pay attention to the small details. The Type 2 will be emitting a scent reminiscent of quickly eaten lunch and may have a strong overtone of old coffee.

Type 2 zombies will also be sporting hair that looks like it was once combed, perhaps even coiffed, but has been dragged into disarray by the very events that turned it into the zombie. Its clothes will have that same once professional quality that has been subsequently destroyed.

Thankfully Type 2’s are notoriously slow and disinclined towards movement of any sort, even in search of brains. However, they appear to emanate a brain deadening zone for several feet around themselves. Any human who fails to notice the presence of this zombie runs a strong risk of falling prey to this brain killing zone. Once that happens the human will likely begin to turn into a Type 2.

Type 2’s are almost invariably encountered at the end of work days. Be careful! Our own tired state can exacerbate our vulnerability to the brain deadening zone.

Some recovery from the Type 2 zombie state has been reported. However, this supposed miracle has never been reliably documented.

I hope this information will help to protect some of you from the ever increasing zombie hoarde.

So pack your ammo, keep your friends close and always remember rule #32: enjoy the little things.

(Movie) Theater Etiquette: Time for a Manners Revolution?

A couple of weeks ago, I and three amigos headed off to see Wicked, the musical. Which is fabulous, and I definitely recommend it. But that is not the point of this post.

Sitting before the four of us were five friends. Five head bopping, head turning, CELL PHONE USING, talking twenty-somethings.

Our post-show discussion covered many of the fabulous moments of the show (“the ‘guh’ is silent”, “not everyone can travel by bubble”, songs that were catchy as hell) and an analysis of the lack of manners in kids today. It is funny to note that our ages range from early thirties to early forties. So we’re not that old. lol I had the same experience in New York, at the plays I went to, people texting and using their cell phones, people talking constantly.

What happened to respecting the community of fellow theater goers? What happened to respecting the ART of the show? Why the hell would you spend over a hundred dollars for a ticket and then watch your cell, not the show?

Time passes and last night I and two amigos went to see X-men: First Class. Sitting beside me was a group of three or more friends (yes, twenty-somethings). Not that long into the movie (which was really good, btw), the chick beside me pulls out her cell phone.

I really hate cell phones in theaters. I don’t care if you think you’re hiding the light from your screen. You’re not. I tell you now, I and many others can see it and it’s distracting and therefore offensive.

Without thinking I turn to her and state flatly, “no”.

She looks at me, startled, and covers the screen with her hand, not saying a word.

“I can still see it.” My voice is quiet but I like to think there was a plank of steel in it.

She makes some odd jerky movement, turns it off, puts it in her purse, zippers that closed and puts it down.

During the movie she and her friends talked at regular 5-10 minute intervals, the third girl, farthest from me, was on her cell for so long I’m really surprised she bothered to spend the ten bucks for the movie. What was the point? She wasn’t watching it. The talking continued, so did the texting or game playing. At one point the girl beside me pulled out wet wipes and started giving herself an upper body bath (those things reek of citrus chemical smells). She fidgeted; she was in and out of her purse constantly. Towards the end she pulled out her cell phone again but she leaned far forward and covered it with her hair and body. Since I really couldn’t see the light from it, I didn’t say anything.

Until the movie was over.

The lights came up and I turned to my neighbours and tell them very calmly that they needed to work on their movie etiquette. That I’d been able to hear them talking throughout the movie, quite clearly. That I could see their friend’s cell phone being used. That it was all very distracting.

I was not rude. I did not yell. I commented on their actions, not them as people.

I felt like a parent.

They listened, they nodded and they apologized.

I nodded and turned back to my friends. My point was made. There was no need to belabour it, to harp on them, or to work at making them feel bad (or wore, as the case may be).

What about you? Do you feel like it is time for a manners revolution? Is it time to speak up when people behave badly? Instead of sitting there and trying to ignore the self-centered, immature, I-hope-to-gods-that-they-just-never-learned-better behaviours, why don’t we confront them, gently, with all of the communication grace of our maturity and work at teaching people what they’ve either never learned or have forgotten?

It’s not about fixing that moment in time. It’s already been tarnished. But by speaking up, by calling people on their actions, by being the consequence that bites them on the ass, maybe the next time they’ll behave better. Maybe the next person sitting beside these girls at a movie theatre won’t even notice that they are there.

Maybe together we can help young souls come to a greater understanding of the consequences of their choices.

Are you with me?

Stoner Report – Nirvana Quartz

I touch it, and there is peace.

I hold it and the universe opens wider.

A quiet universe, full of patience, full of time.

Nirvana quartz is from the Himalayas, quartz that lay underneath a glacier for thousands of years. It has been roughened, cut, changed by the ice. And now the ice has receded and the results of its passage are revealed.

The feeling of it is of love and peace, but not the simple love of rose quartz. It has been tested, changed, tempered. Its colour is subtle and its effects as relentless as the ice that shaped it.

It has known heights and depths. It has been buried into darkness and found its own inner light.

It has been outside of time and only recently revealed to us. It is the gift of a higher spirit, reaching out a hand to lift us up.

I adore this stone.

Monster Bush – Fear the Wisteria!

If you look into this picture:

You’ll see a couple of branches that make up the trunk of this plant. Four weeks ago, that’s all there was. Three branches coming off the trunk of this evil plant, no longer than what you see in this picture.

I’d taken this chinese wisteria tree and hacked it down to nothing. I figured it had had it’s time, and I needed the real estate it was taking up. It was spindly at the top, hasn’t flowered in years. And I was tired of it trying to crawl up INTO my building. It was sending up these long questing tendrils in search of a new home, a crack, or anything it can crawl into or latch onto.

Four weeks ago, that’s all it was. Bare, dead looking wood. But hey, I thought, I’ll water it anyways.

Two weeks ago it was liberally studded with unfurling leaf buds. Wow, the damn thing won’t die, I thought.

Now it looks like this:

And I think, holy over zealous tree, batman! And do you see the tendrils climbing up the window? Seeking some new place to sneak into and take over.

To hell with bamboo, fear the wisteria! It will take over the world. It will crawl into any crevasse. And it can not be killed. Fear it and you may survive.

~Abysmal Witch

Oh, gods, I think it’s grown while I’ve typed!

Hekate’s Suppers

In honour of Her whom I serve.

It’s amazing what a question, some google time and a bit of logic can do for us.

My curiosity centered around Hekate’s Suppers, something that’s been mentioned repeatedly but casually around me (people, internet, etc.). So I went looking for specifics and this is what I found. Please note, this information is not properly cited and so I cannot guarantee the accuracy of any of the details, aside from those things that are simply my own experience and perception.

In case you don’t know, Hekate or Hecate is a Greek goddess of antiquity typically known as a Goddess of magic, crossroads, witches, etc. She is also a psychopomp.

There are two points I’d like to bring to you regarding these suppers, first on the timing of them, the second on the purpose.

Most references I have found to a ‘date’ for them is on the 29th or 30th of the month. However, this is not based upon our calendar! Something that I think most people forget. Using the old roman calendar (not the Julian calendar and not our modern Gregorian calendar, and boy, that was a fascinating little trip into wikipedia) led to an interesting realization. I did not look at the ancient greek calendar given that every city-state had their own calendar and most weren’t recorded. Besides, the early Roman calendar may well have been based upon a Greek lunar calendar.

Right, so the ancient roman calendar was largely based upon the moon cycles. The month would start on the day of the new moon, when the crescent was first visible. This would put the 29th or 30th of the month on the dark moon (1-2 days before the crescent would first appear). Their calendar system is complicated but the idea that the “date” for Hekate’s suppers is actually on the dark moon seems both logical and fitting for the Dark Goddess of the Crossroads.

Second, Hekate’s suppers, classically speaking, were offerings left at crossroads. It seems that part of the purpose of this may have been a round about way for the rich to feed the poor. The rich people would leave offerings to Hekate at street corners that the poor would take up. I don’t know, but it seems plausible, particularly when we remember that most offerings by the temples to the Gods would ultimately result in a feast that would feed the locals. Often it was the only time that poor people would get meat (this is from a class I took long ago).

CORRECTION: If you check out the comments, you will see a post from Dver explaining that while many offerings were of a nature to share with people, Hekate’s suppers do not fall in that group. The comments also give a link to their own post which includes an explanation of where this misconception comes from. Not that giving to the poor or the foodbank is bad, just that it doesn’t fit with offering to Hekate on the dark moon. Now back to the original post:

Experience says that it doesn’t make sense to take a whole plate of food to a crossroads. Instead, I would suggest two potential ways to honour Her through a supper. One is the offering of an egg at a crossroads (though if the animals don’t get to it, the smell could be most unfortunate), the other would be an offering of food to a homeless person who was at/near a crossroads. But as always, in the end it is your intention, will and passion that determines the purpose of what you do. There are, of course, a multitude of ways that She can be honoured through the use of food, offerings, and crossroads. It’s just a matter of personal choice.

Now taking this one step further, and from personal practice, Hekate’s Supper can also be an opportunity to sit down to a meal with her. Invite her to your table, or to a setting near a crossroads, and eat your meal knowing she is there with you. And yes, I don’t see why this couldn’t be done with any deity with a time and location suitable to their nature.

One of the wondrous things of being pagan is being able to bring the spiritual into any aspect of living. In this case, it’s bringing deity into our meal, rather than simply leaving something for them. Truly, we are blessed.

A Pagan Tempest…Let’s Go Have Tea

Ah, the on-going joys of defining “pagan”. I haven’t read all the recent commentary, but I have spent some time reading through linked blogs from The Wild Hunt on the topic.

There are those who focus on definitions. What is paganism? Who is included? Can we even reach a definition?

Peter Dybing warns of the dangers of sliding back into the Witch Wars of yesteryear.

Much of the commentary seems to focus on the importance of being inclusive in our community. Or in other words, for the love of any god, please don’t turn this discussion into another reason to fight amongst ourselves because when we do that, none of us win.

The debate over the meaning of pagan is not a new one and not surprising. We’re using a single word to try and capture western magical traditions as well as religious and spiritual practices that are largely (though not exclusively) European based (whether inspired or reconstructed, I do not care). And then, that poor little word, has to take on all “earth-based” religions (though thankfully they’re pretty much already included in my list) PLUS anyone who doesn’t identify with a specific practice in the above but feels comfortable in the pagan grouping. It only has five letters, that poor little word.

It’s a very flexible word, letting us bend it however we wish, but somedays it and we feel the strain.

So why the big flare up of this old discussion? Because there’s a group that we would normally assume would be with us under the pagan umbrella who don’t see themselves that way. Drew Jacob explains there why he and those in his Temple don’t consider themselves pagan.

I wonder if the upsurge in commentary is based upon fear? Fear that if every group and individual who sees their practice as something separate and distinct from the idea of ‘pagan’ were to leave there would be no pagan community left. Which is a fair concern given that probably 98% of the pagan community are not ‘practicing pagans’. Hel, what would a practicing pagan even be? They usually, in my experience, are the earth worshipping casual practitioners-of-nothing-in-particular. There’s not many of them, but they are usually nice people. Most of us define ourselves in a particular faith (Druid, Asatru, Heathen, Wiccan, Thelemite, a unique label that works for us that no one else understands, etc, etc, etc) based on what we do and believe, but accept the pagan label for outside convenience and for inner community.

By agreeing that pagan is a label we can apply to all of us gives us the perfect excuse to spend time, learning and celebration with relatively like-minded individuals.

Take that away and it becomes harder to sit around that communal fire with each other that T Thorn Coyle mentions on the Wild Hunt blog.

For me personally, I will not force Drew Jacob’s group to be part of paganism. That’s their choice. However, his arguments for why they are not pagan did not persuade me. One argument was that their method of practice was not well understood or comfortable for the pagans who took part in it; all you have to do is watch any relatively homogenous pagan group attend an event thrown by a different type of practicing pagan group and you’ll see the same thing. We all get a little discomfited when we experience something that is new and different. This does not make the new experience not-pagan, just not-familiar.

He also lists a number of specifics that his group does not do that he sees as typically pagan (though he also says that list is but a sampling). To which I say, try working around Thelemites and Hermetics and those notions of four elements, 8 sabbats, working in circles get a sound thrashing. Not in a ‘they are bad’ way, but in a ‘we don’t do that’ way. ADF druidry doesn’t do circles either and they only reason we stood around in that shape was due to the convenience of speaking and seeing each other.

In other words, pagan is a broad descriptive bucket term. And just as any material in a bucket is not the bucket itself, we don’t practice ‘paganism’, we all practice different things that can be, conveniently or not, shoved into the very accommodating bucket of pagan.

The more I type, the more I believe that this reaction from the pagan community arises from a subtle feeling of being threatened. And the urge to bond closer together is a natural and healthy response to that.

In the end, one group wanting to disassociate themselves from the pagan bucket will make no difference to the rest of us. The attempt to define ‘pagan’ will continue like waves of the tide. And we will get together when and where we can to celebrate life.

It is our actions that define us and how others see us. And my next action is to get a cup of tea. Tense moments always go down better with tea.

The Power of Surprise Gifts (and Hockey)

So, yesterday was a Bad Day. They happen. But alas, philisophical equanimity rarely happens during Bad Days.

No, the Bad rules us, tearing us down, making us bitchy and cranky and ready to spew all of our anger into the perfect vessel: hockey.

For those who missed it, or don’t care and so need the briefest reminder to understand the rest of this post, last night the Canucks (that would be Vancouver’s hockey team) won the Western Conference finals. What that really means is that we’re now going to be in the Finals for the Stanley Cup. That’s four wins until it’s ours for the first time. WOOHOO!! And last night was an absolutely freakingly marvelous game.

So I worked out some of my aggression last night via hockey. But still was in a semi-bad mood today that was aggravated by coming down with some kind of bug (yes, I feel physically crappy right now).

I checked my mailbox (the physical one at work) and in it was an envelope. I opened it and found a note from a co-worker, the one who had the fortune to be at Rogers Arena for the big game last night. We’d been talking about hockey fandom and my desire for a jersey yesterday.

She hoped I’d enjoy a couple small souvenirs.

In the envelope was a poster/waybill from the event and a souvenir towel that was used at the game (we have this towel power tradition, where we wave white towels over our heads in celebration, usually of goals, see it in action on youtube). Putting aside the wonderful mojo of that towel (it really was an intense game and a significant one), the power of the gift hit me with a heart-splitting sledgehammer.

It wasn’t expected. This co-worker and I are friendly to each other, but not close in any sense. So there was not even a hint of this gift possibility in my worldview.

It was a surprise, freely given, and damn near made me cry from the joy of it. Her small gift changed my day. I’m still sick, and still moody over a couple of things, but the balance has shifted and the world has a rosy, if overly hot, headachy, and nauseous glow.

Thank you, lovely lady, for making my day.

The Meaning of Life

Apparently I had me a smarty sounding moment back in 2004. My boss was having a bad day and I guess he’d been muttering about what was the meaning of life, anyway. Apparently I decided to answer that in a note I left him at the end of the day. While sorting out some papers today I found that explanation and can’t resist sharing it:

The question “what is the meaning of life” is inherently misleading. It asks for a quantifiable and descriptive quality to be applied to something that is by its very nature existing in realms that exist beyond the scope covered by our limited concepts of verbal communication. It is a question of the same ilk as the mind/body problem or the nature of deity – these are questions that we want to answer the way we have been taught is proper through our western education, with formulae and charts and explanations that can be graded.

Yet life extends into dimensions we have barely started to be aware of and possibly beyond that thereby confounding any such attempt. We have not yet been able to fully define life and so long as that definition eludes us, so will a definition of its meaning.

However, should we attempt to contemplate the mystery of life, we start to see spiralling and cycling possibilities of interconnectedness that hint at an inherent goodness (i.e. positiveness) that exists within the act of living. At a most basic level, it can be said that there is meant to be life because life exists, on a par with saying that there is a universe because the universe exists.

But it is likely that the scope of the question being posed is of a far more narrow view: what is the meaning of life for me living s a human being in this world at this time? A ‘why do I exist’ style of question rather than why do any of us exist. This type of question is often interpreted as the seeking of purpose, a questing on the part of our human spirit that needs to feel useful in order to be satisfied in its current situation. Typically this type of seeker is not satisfied by the type of answer that is a fall out from the previous category of question: that s/he is alive because the universe is a living, changing organism composed of a multitude of living creatures, being and experiencing, of which s/he is a part, that her/his life is simply (though necessarily) another strand in the wonderfully complex weaving of what is.

So what answer would satisfy?

Would only a quantifiable answer, one that can be described and labelled and fulfilled be acceptable?

Because when a purpose can be fulfilled, there is a meaning in that, something that only that person can do. To say the purpose is to live, continue life through the creation of offspring and die, often seems hollow, lacking in a fullness of answer that was hoped for. Truly, any interchangeable answer seems to be lacking for this seeker and that leads to the possible conclusion that s/he is in actuality looking for validation for their own existence, a comforting pat on the shoulder confirming that they are special, unique and that without their existence in the here and now the universe would not exist (either as a statement full stop, in the way it is ‘meant’ to exist, or simply not as it does now).

And for those seekers, my answer is that they are entitled to that pat on the shoulder for if they were not living their unique life as they are now in this moment and in this place, this universe (even though in which of the three aspects I cannot say) would not exist. 🙂