“I sit in the space between two old Pecans as the early morning sun shines through green leaves and the cool breeze blows through my hair. Incense is lit. Prayers are sung to the Old Ones, the plants, herbs, and vegetables I grow, to the minerals that I work with, to the spirits that walk this path with me. Family, friends, and clients are blessed—their hopes, dreams, fears, and desires held strong in my heart, my mind, and upon my tongue.”
Early spring may not seem like harvest season to many but here in South Central Texas we are already well into out first growing season of the year. Over the week I harvested organically grown, pesticide free herbs of rosemary, oregano, spearmint, peppermint, lemongrass, and coriander seeds as well as jasmine and honey suckle flowers. As I was harvesting the plants I was also thinking about the work that I did on the very powerful last full moon and the seeds of purpose planted during that ritual. Although I usually do not get really personal on in these posts in this case I feel that its warranted because as both a ritualist and a teacher I am often honored and invited to walk with others as they go through their process, their learning curves and growing pains. Often I feel that in today’s world teachers and so-called experts feel that they cannot also submit themselves as students, fellow travelers, combragos. There is an unspoken fear I sense in many communities of teachers that if they also show up as students it somehow makes them less able to turn around and teach, write, think, do their work. Of course I take my model for teaching from Socrates and he was always, ever, and foremost one interested in learning. So I choose to share today partially from that place of spirit and also because I want to do all that I can to keep my ego from getting rooted and rigid in a manner that does not allow me to be of service to those I tend.
During my full moon rites I found that I was returning to my self in a deep way, back into my body-blood, bone, skin, energetic field and back into a practice that weaves my religion, magic, and love for all things wild and green, sweet and dark. Some of my more sensitive clients have already noticed and commented favorably on the change and hopefully new depth they see in my writing, art, and practice. Though I don’t look for comments affirmation of one’s work is always nice. There are projects brewing and notions bubbling. As I spend more and more time outside with my beloved and our bright child and I feel reconnected and reconnecting…to the earth, to this particular piece of land that I am a caretaker of and for, for the medicinal and poisonous plants gracing my garden and curbside. Like a flower slowly maturing into a ripened fruit, like a snake shedding its skin, I return again and again to center, to self, to the core of intuitive knowing that I believe we all carry within us.
Death is a part of this process as it is a part of all processes. I have noticed a trend lately among many a folk magician to proclaim themselves not afraid of what is dark, deathly, and deathless among us. Moreover in some cases it seems an affinity for death and dark rites is worn as a badge of pride. Death has always been close to me-since I was a new babe and my mother was told that I would not survive throughout the week-obviously a failed prediction that my wise and intuitively gifted mother paid no heed to. I walk with it, sometimes in its shadow through chronic illness, childbirth takes you to a threshold where even with modern medicine we may hear Death’s sonorous chanting. Death is close to many of my clients-it prowls their neighborhoods in many forms-diseases they are not protected against, men wielding guns who don’t know how to handle a weapon of destruction responsibly, poisons in food and water deemed safe by our own protective agencies-there is a comfort in death simply in the knowledge that its always, always there. In my experience the ones who know death best are hidden or surprising-in them as in death there is an unpredictability, a swerve that gives skull, bone, teeth, fur, claw, nail, hair, body a grace and in many cases their own precious humor. I think because of my own history relating to and loving the Gods and Goddesses and Spirits of the Dead has always come naturally and easily to me-they feel to me like the First Family, the origin point, the taproot. So I was not surprised when Death appeared first to feast at the full moon feast-sharing knowledge, fixing me with a cold eye, and then bursting out in raucous song. I solidified my connection and devotion to my own God of life/death/life and joined with the women that love and mourn Him. At His resurrection I found a restoration of spirit, a renewal of all that is green and good, expressed by a physical desire to be outside in sun and wind, barefoot, with fingers in the dirt or holding my child’s chubby hand.
Deeper Knowledge-I have often said that when it comes to wisdom I am a whore-of course a sacred one! I will seek it out anywhere-high or low, no place is too strange or too off for me to pursue sophia. During the full moon rite as the moon shown down in all of her pearl rose glory She illuminated areas in my own life where it is now time to take the knowledge deeper, sing sweeter, know more truly. A teacher has appeared over the past week to assist me with this work, and blessedly bright mentors from many walks of life stand in love, support, and honest criticism for which I am ever grateful.
Generosity of Spirit-as I stand more deeply and strongly in myself I feel my desire to share and connect expanding-which is unusual because I am really often a hermit sticking to my books, roots, crystals, and hearth as much as possible. New connections, alliances, and collaborations are formed. Some will carry through into the years while others bloom for a season and then each party goes their own way. Practically I am working to create more products to assist and serve those in my wider community and also devising ways for those in my closer knit community to come together in learning and laughter.
I have done my best to share what is happening within-without over sharing or articulating ideas that like a baking bread are still too soft, tender, and half formed to be exposed to light and air. I have no doubt that one of the catalysts for this growth are the Miracle Tree Sessions and the deep work I have been blessed to engage in with my students-for that and to them most of all, I bow in gratitude. And now…its back to the garden and preparing for the New Moon in Taurus!