The Apple tree

 

This work has been a long one.

A year long one.

It is all about the things that I am made of and the seasonal timing.

A bit of darkness, as we are heading to the dark time of year.

A lesson in growth and cycles as I move in and out of them.

A realization of gray truth like the fog that spreads across my ridge.

I have blogged and shared a bit about this year long work.

I seem to never compensate for the mixed emotions I will have when I embark on any project.

I take them as they come. (feelings that is) The most surprising emotion that showed was satisfaction.

I was startled at myself-truly. Not because I do not experience it in other facets of my life;

I do.

Physically and mentally.

But this was different.

What I created, nourished and brought to the peak, fetch a completeness to a new part of myself.

 

My life mate calls me an enigma.

He has been in my life since I was 18. (I am now a young 51)

So he knows.  

I can be a mystery and I change my mind.

This… because I am intuitive? I think yes. I surmise and I know.

That is what guided me this year.

In my work and the dark.

As my year-long working comes to completion; the whisky, brandy soaked hearts, candles and incense offerings bring a new empathy of my life work.

I know it

I remember it

I live it.

 

Soon the moon will be full in the season of Samhain and the dead.

This is the time of work under the apple tree and chilly nights.

The next 3 days bring completeness to the last by product of the work.

It sits on the bench under the umbrella of a tree with a candle at midnight.

The goose song has made the pass over the ridge.

The light in the neighboring window is put to rest.

I speak the words that fill my head and sing the song that honors my work.

My stick holds me up as silent companions do.

The damp air of mid October shows itself.

The moon shines thru the branches.  

Apple tree asks a favor.

“I will insist”

I say

and it is so.

Passage of time on the Ridge

 This Saturday morning finds me a bit worse for wear but it is not a bad thing. With a slow morning of movement, I am given the gift of time for quiet pursuits. It seems my mind is always working. Words to write, candles to light and sometimes…. Folks to bite. This day however is filled with candles and handcrafted incense. I like to set the morning of this day aside for honoring, feeding and offerings to my Spirit(s).

A recent kitchen working

This is an important part of my practice. Weekends are like this for me. I set a time, preferably Saturday for this work.  When I am away at a camp spot in the north country (about 2 hours from my ridge) it is vital  to continue the work. I have versed myself to honor and feed them in that homestead as well. Those that come with me and those of that land base may have a want that differs from what I offer on the ridge.  I have a good forested area open to me to find what is needed and what is comfortable. I like to use citronella candles for my up north life. It is a good fit. I have discovered a lovely patch of Master of the woods (Woodruff) in a spiritual place that I visit. I harvest a bit each when needed and burn it in offerings. It has a hint of vanilla and other uses beside an offering.  I will bring a few dried herbs  with me but many I gather locally.

Woodruff on my door step

I have different layers of work and offerings that I do.

Some of my work is long term over many days, weeks or months.

Others may be as simple as using words and a crafted dust for immediate outcomes.

Both are good, with different results.

The long term work I do is for a big change, shift or understanding to take place.

Immediate work may be a catalyst to a long term work.

Immediate work may be to stop a bad behavior.

Immediate work may be to throw luck, good or bad.

Immediate work may be the whispering of song, words and chants as the wind howls on the ridge.

Immediate work, works. In my experience, I find that it can be intense. Keep this in mind before you cast it and be prepared for the effect. Immediate work usually does not last. So I use it as a bridge to move amid what is happening. It can buy you time to meditate on what needs to occur next if anything.

I did a working that was an involvement of both. To bind an immediate situation and then to work it long term. It will be a year at Samhain. This involved a plant that I have a relationship with and needed protection. The result thus far has been positive. The completion will be on or around November 1^st.  This is a multi-layered, onion skin project. I have learned plenty from it.

Magic in the ridge garden

Much of what I do involves my mind and what I call meditative mental magic.

Honing my meditative skills, is a valuable tool in my life. It gives perspective and clarity, links you other facets and sharpens your divination abilities. It is connectedness.  This is my home of questions, answers and understanding of my place in a situation.

 I am a slow burn.

By this I mean that I let others show their cards. I can then ask myself, does this affect me? By answering this question, I can decide my work, if necessary.  

As usual, I have wandered a bit on this essay-apparently it was needed.

As I roam the path into Lammastide, Lughnasadh or First Harvest, I do what I always do and reminisce about my year so far, what work lays ahead, those that are still in my life, what I have learned good or bad, right or wrong and what I still want to accomplish on some level.

It is a pivotal marker in the passing of the seasons. I follow agricultural or planting celebrations in my life and work.  The cross quarter days are held in high esteem. A gathering is usually planned with the circle sisters. This is also a time of knowing and seeing. The herbs and plants I use may be harvested, shared and offered to the land spirits. This passage comes to me in a deep meditative time of senses. The veil and the hedge path is found. The Bear spirit likes to wander in and make a visit. Always a strong presence, always with a message.

The plant spirits tell me what they liked in the growing season, how they may work better if I continue to care for them.

Kitchen window view

 The pull of time is strong.

  Beltane plans are examined and some discarded.

 My Tarot and dreams speak.

  I Listen to them as I dance to the drum.

Welcome Ancestors, Spirits, Guides

 Walk with me as my crooked path wanders to the middle.

 Let me see what I need to see, know what I need to know, say what I need to say and work as I need to work.

Seasonal Truth

My Saturday morning walk was greeted with a casual drop of the promised snow predicted in the coming hours. I woke up an hour and a half before and was looked at by lazy dogs that decided that a good morning pat was in order.

After a good cry that removed the rest of yesterday’s mascara, I put on my boots, gloves, and hat. I grabbed my walking stick and out we went to the yard.

I am a bit sad today.

 Today it is real. Winter is arriving, I miss my family; those living and those that have passed and I fucked up.

  I did.

 I admit it fully.

 I am not always the best communicator. Words come to me easily when I write an essay or blog. I can express myself and usually get my thoughts and feelings across. When I have to put on my work face and speak my job language, I am sufficient.  But speaking my truth, person to person in a tongue that they can hear is not always my strong point. It takes me time to form the words and bring them forth. Most listeners are impatient and don’t want to wait for them. They will try and finish the sentence for you so they can say the words they need to express or get angry because they don’t understand. Text and Messaging is a bit of a crutch for me. This is my social phobia that I rarely, if ever share with others. What arises with the modern form of communication is misunderstanding and conceived ideas that are not always the case. We all do it, but, short, one line quips can bring on a storm and this is my doing. I feel horrible about the drama, as in my head, I knew what the outline of the situation was, but I failed to bring the information out for the receiver to understand. At the time, I thought nothing of it, but 12 hours later, I have been demoted to the family single cell life form.

My dogs don’t care about this, they care about Mama. They sense my sadness as they prompt me down the hill. I speak to them and give them just enough freedom to wander and sniff the deer scent left under the apple trees last night.

I walked over to my sacred circle and spotted a white tail running away. The boys luckily did not spy this as it would have caused a great alarm heard in the morning air.

I turned and went towards the apple trees. I could see the indents of the deer laying in the grass. This gives me great comfort, knowing that these creatures use my yard as a place of rest and replenishment.

I looked down to my boots and a sweet little bird’s nest was at my toes. Entwined with clumps of dog hair and blue tarp threads. This filled my heart. A reminder- seasons of cycles in nature. This is what I know to be true, what I always return to when sadness is strong. When all else is unsure, questionable with no guarantees, the earth and her seasons are strength below my boots.

My apple trees are a place of Spirit. I placed a bench under the middle tree a few years back. I find myself there sometimes at night. When the wind blows, I sit and speak. The stars peek out of the branches. Each season under the canopy has a different feel. Spring with blossoms, summer with buzzing, fall with heaviness and now winter with bare bark. All beauty with different appeal. I have told this tree many stories, shed tears and buried a few needs.

My dogs are getting hungry and it is time to move back up the hill. Rufus as always has a prize carried in his mouth, Bodhi slowly finding his was with nose to the ground sniffing his path and Beck, by my side guiding me to the door. My last stop before going in was putting away a garden tool.

 

My Nana always said that I had keen eyes. I helped her find a dime once that rolled away and her kind compliment always stayed with me.

 I spotted a small bit of hornet or wasp’s egg chamber. It struck me and gave me the closure that I needed.

 In my work, I associate these little beasties as angry energy.

 Sometimes it is needed in a working.

Today, it was a message.

A little bit of anger is needed. As a lesson and a reminder. This is a truth.

Nature is not always sunshine and green grass.

We each need to have our feelings.

We each need our words. We need to be heard and understood.

We need forgiveness and the time to find it.

Forgiveness is also a truth.

My cluttered outdoor altar.I placed the morn's gifts here

Recipe for Karma

Karma is not about being a bitch as we so often hear.

Karma is about bits of our past that we have left unfinished, unresolved, tucked away in the cupboard for future reference.

Like a recipe that we saved for someday when we need something to bake. The problem is that like all things pushed to the back, they resurface. We think that it is all under control until guess what or who has found you on Facebook, the phonebook or the yearbook.

 It happens to all of us. In my book, Karma is the unfinished, ignored and occasional chaos of this life and its lessons.

Sometimes you are in the crossfire because of a current relationship and sometimes it is you directing the monkeys in the circus. I feel that Karma is much like death and taxes… and sometimes the Ferry Man.

As a society that is bombarded with bad shit constantly, we have fallen into the mindset that Karma is going to swing around and punch the offender in the nose. This could be a coping mechanism as we try to filter the broth; it may happen but don’t count on it.

Where is this diatribe headed? Well, sometimes the Universe will throw in a bit of a wooden spoon to stir the sauce.

For me, that spoon came in the form of Venus retrograde.

If you are a naysayer of cosmic events and the effect on our lives, you can stop reading this now; otherwise, continue on.

My experience of this rarer event (Compared to Mercury retro) was one of deep emotional upheaval. I was forced to deal head on with a situation that I had chosen to sit on for a few years (and it still has bits that may resurface) as well as a decades old drama that came to the forefront that I played a part in but not the main character. Take these 2 and sprinkle health, job, family stress and what should be leisure lodge (that I have worked my ass off for) and I have a new recipe in the cosmic oven.

Many folks that I know and associate with, have themselves been served a plate full of the Karma recipe during the VR (Venus Retro… Clever, right?)

What does all of this mean? How do we survive? What candle should I burn? What spirit do I call on?

This is what defines our practice as a seasoned worker and the immense life lessons that are brought to the table. The 18 month internet Priest/ess certificate of a 25 year old, dripping in Wiccan jewels and a black corset cannot have in their cookbook the abilities to counsel and do the workings for others that come with a life lived in the practice and lessons from choices, good, bad, ugly and grotesque. (Yes…. I said it. No apology) I respect what their journey currently may be and the talents of being able to call down the moon and release the quarters.( this may be a good help in the future if they stay with the work) I am not condemning or judging, we all need to start somewhere. My thought is this; when you are offered the gift of knowledge from a seasoned worker, invited to the celebrations, into their homestead, heed it just a bit. The lessons of our Mothers, Grandmothers and Aunties are laced with their Karma soup and this is what is shared when you are invited in.  Realizing the Karma bits that they have lived with will only give you the advantage when it is your turn to eat from the plate. 

My choice to share these thoughts, comes from a decade of mostly young women asking me to share my knowledge and teach them everything I know. When I start to cut the meat of it to stew size pieces, teaching them from my kitchen, I never hear from them again. They can get there quicker at the drive thru. (Society Truth)

As I reach the end of my 50^th year, so much understanding has opened up to me from loss, lessons, more loss, love, being loved and loving. (I have so much more to say about this year, but it would go on and on……) My stove top is full of different dishes simmering. I know from my dreams, omens and divination that change for me is on the horizon. I had to find my way to the dinner table, take a seat and clean up my leftovers that many times were served cold.

This is what your relationship with your spirits (land and home) your Ancestors (named and unnamed, known and unknown) are about. They support you. Daily mediations and offerings are the first step in building this relationship. Sounds like a lot of work? Any relationship is. The rewards, protection and knowledge comes back to you over and over…… A bit like Karma.

 

 

In the Pines

The seasonal search of Yule/ Solstice have a bit of conflict for many devoted at this intense occasion of Christian beliefs.

We have come down the path of Samhain; the exhilaration and the solemn experience that is claimed and embraced by the Pagan community. I have no catchy phrase of putting a God form back in the season, but what I can do is remember, breath deep the cold air into my lungs and step forward in my path. Much of the holidays practices come from another time that with deep roots to cultural beliefs and the truths of those times. Decorating a tree is usually the first thought in everyone’s mind.

My tree reflects the history of the my life to this point. Ornaments for celebration of my marriage, birth of children, grandchildren and beloved pets. It reflects my heart.

I put candle like lights in my windows for the homecoming of those who are now gone from my life.

I burn my bayberry candles and a Yule log for luck, prosperity and light in the new season. I make and give gifts that come from the depths of my soul.

When the wind blows through the pines in the evening, I go outside and listen to the screeching of the trees. My homestead is surrounded by pines. The tall thin White Pines that cover my ridge move with the wind in an ancient dance of winter. Sometimes I get the distinct impression that Cailleach is swinging from branches and tree tops. I see her long grey hair blowing wildly in the bitter wind and if I did not know better, I would say she was bare, much like the Maple,Oak and Apple. 

My pines protect me and my way of life. They give shelter to the small creatures that I welcome to my acreage.

They ground me, listen to me, bring me the vibration of the Mother and all her wild Spirits that visit my Ridge in this season and the next.

As I strew the outside of my home with branches and bough of the eternal green, I know that I am working the ways and bringing protection of the pine spirit into my life and that of my loves. I ask it to hold us close as we trudge the path of Yule and winter beyond.

Was this the actions of my Ancestors as they celebrated and embraced the season of dark? I only know what my soul depth tells me and I listen to my truths.

~Folk Ways on the ridge~: Talking Bear

~Folk Ways on the ridge~: Talking Bear: Flying over Kansas, I could see the wanning moon of day. I am on my way to see Momma. She seems to be in her last stage of life. Lung can...

Talking Bear

Flying over Kansas, I could see the wanning moon of day. I am on my way to see Momma. She seems to be in her last stage of life. Lung cancer is a beast and my other sisters need respite so I am doing my part. I have been filled with much anxiety the last few days. My place in this story, my ability to be of service and the amount of time I will be spending away from home. My meditations have been deep as I find my way in this situation of death but also, I am sensing other spirits close. I had ritual at my homestead on the ridge Saturday night to celebrate the first harvest. During the set up I kept getting glimpses of something close. The evening was beautiful with drumming, crafts, collective energy work, feasting and sharing of life, love and challenges. I pulled out a tarot deck for quick readings and a focus for our mental magic.

 

 It gave me a chance to practice my skills and to solidify the group collective.

 

I felt this evening was a perfect setting  for heightening our work-to tap in to a deeper place of spirit.

I have purchased a variety of ointments from Sarah Anne Lawless. I love to share them with my inner circle community, as well as using them on a solitary level.  Soma seemed to be the group favorite of the night. I also enjoy the benefits of the pain relief and passed this along to one of my sisters who was suffering from a stiff neck. I have moderate Osteo and Psoriatic arthritis and my pain can be intense at times. I am always looking for secondary pain relief, particularly at bedtime . The Soma is very helpful for drifting to sleep and at times ushering talking bear to my bedroom window.

Strength he says.

That is what bear is about.

 Standing up straight

 being fierce

 and over the top protective when threat is presented.

So I am.

 

Sarah's Forest Spirit salve led me to my place in the woods where the buck left his signature. I needed his commanding ability to move forward.

 

So I left him apple cider.

 

These are the things that are on my mind as I wind my way to Texas. My lovely community of sister friends, my belief in the Ancient Mother and her many spirits that recognize an obliging and compelling relationship and how to ease my Momma's passage- for her and my siblings that will feel as orphans do.

Ancient Mother I hear you calling, Ancient Mother I hear your song.