Monday, December 16, 2013


I know I have been quiet for some time, with good reason. My husband is divorcing me and I feel like he has dropped me on my head after ripping out my heart, stomping on it and then spitting on it. I have been a stay at home mom for the last six years and this has left me destitute, without the children, and unable to afford a lawyer.  The way this has been conducted suggests a long planning time. We were supposed to be getting marriage counseling. . . not a divorce. So now here I am, kicked out of my home and without anything to my name. He's taken out an order of protection against me unjustly stating that he fears domestic violence when, in fact, he was the one who committed evil against me. I thought I could heal, but I underestimated the potency of the poison he poured into us. I should have left him when this happened. I know that, but I genuinely thought we could heal this together, but he claimed at the time and to this day he can't recall what happened that night. He left me with no one to talk to about this. I was ashamed it happened. The more I look at this marriage now, the more I think he wanted out, but his Catholic upbringing would not allow it unless I were a threat to his and or the children's security. Hence, the false pretenses at the hearing for the order of protection the other day. I think he deliberately and diligently is trying to smear me into the earth. I think he cultivated this moment. I think he cultivated anger in hopes of provoking a violence that would never come. I think he had help devising his plans.

There is deception here, lots of it. I have been smelling it for quite sometime and I have not been able to put my finger on it. I never knew it was so close or intimate. He did a great job in dodging and hoodwinking me with a sense of logic that eased what he called my paranoia. I guess I am not paranoid. Just plotted against. It turns out my intuition and the cards were correct. I thought that I was seeing with a veiled eye because of the fear I was steeped in. I really thought I was just being paranoid after what happened to my sister.

My answer to all of this is a simple healer's answer right now, try to see if there is a possibility of healing. Hopefully, I can call him back to himself. He has changed since working with his partner quite a bit. He went from family values to business needs values. I need to see if he can come back to himself, to us, to family. My family must think I have lost my mind, but I still have my sanity cup firmly in hand whispering words of healing. They have been amazingly supportive emotionally and I have been surrounded by amazing healers gently helping me pick up my heart. I am going to counseling to help me. I think it's the first thing I have actually done for myself in a long time. Everything has been about the family.

Is this the shamanic death I was told was coming? Very possibly. What ever happens here, whether we work it out and find us again or not, I am irrevocably changed. I am grateful for this experience. I know that sounds strange, but I have known and experienced light and goodness. . it has been imprinted upon me. Now I know darkness and evil. It has touched me and yet I remain, heart broken, but I am still here. Knowing and experiencing something are two very different things. Knowing is sort of an abstract external thing where as what I have experience goes beyond the mind; it has been branded upon my soul. As I move forward from here, there will be no more doubt about the evils of this physical reality. I will feel it to my essential core and not wonder if I am being paranoid. I also know that my faith is not a hobby. I speak to the Gods about this and what this is. They keep encouraging me to move forward and not sit still; continue the work, they say. Adhere to the old ways. Walk a path of love, honor and order. Somehow this, whatever it is and whatever the end result, will be okay. The world is not over and neither am I.

So right now yes, I have been made homeless and destitute and robbed of my children, this will heal and we will all move forward. I intend to do so with grace and integrity in spite of the dirty play and deception I have been shown for my years of helping my husband building a life he desires.

I am sorry I have been distant and I will probably be more silent than usual, but know that I am healing and grateful for the company you all have kept me here on the interwebs. It has kept me close to who I am and what I am about. Somehow, in my marriage, I went from serving others to self sacrifice. I don't know how or when that happened, but I am changing that. I am owning this because I must if I expect to learn from this fallen tower. I have allowed my husband to dig me a grave and put me in it in the name of family. I have allowed him to profane the word family. Family is supposed to mean love. I love him too much and too well.

Now it's time to reclaim the true meaning of family and try to heal this if I can, if I can get him to want  to heal too. What he did to us is a double edged sword. That night he sliced me, he also sliced himself.

 Ohana: no one gets left behind or forgotten.

Family means love.

Love makes things grow.

Thursday, November 7, 2013

Suffer not the company of fools

The Tower Card has been making a very clear point. Suffer not fools. It's been a painful lesson to be sure. There have been people whom I have had to leave on the ground in the heap which they fell. Most of whom have been the type of person who fights to fight, deliberately misinterprets your words and intentions, and uses their personal biases and issues as a weapon against others. I have had experience with this sort before. This particular person would stir up the shit to get me all emotionally worked up in what ever manner possible and then feed on that energy leaving me a husk to sort out later. It took me a while to figure this out, but I did and moved on. Well as you would have it, the Universe sometimes does a pop quiz.

I was uncertain that it was happening at first so I spoke to my Matron Goddess to get some advise and clarity on the situation. She gave me a technique to work to keep the cords from coming back. She then stepped back to see what I would do. It was the same couple of frequencies, meaning the same two people. One of them just kept coming and it was astonishing when I followed it home. I was very disappointed to say the least.  I thought that by being gentle with this person I could move around and block the tendrils that grabbed at me. I spent a bit of time gently dodging, but this person was having no of gentle and I was always exhausted after the dodge ball game. I know that I have a tendency to err waaaaay over on the other side of Oh I am being paranoid. The situation generally gets to a level of ugly that is undeniable before I act and then the real ugly comes out. Well it's ugly out there.

There are reasons why witches should choose their company carefully and sift out the obvious fools:

1) dabblers grabbing at power: dangerous to both parties
2) sabotage: will try to sink you to suit their ego
3) easily filled with fear: fearful people do frightful things
4) Control freak: help you with one hand and smack you with another to keep you in line. They will frequently tell you what you shouldn't do.
5) fighting to fight: these people don't care about facts, feelings, or anything else other than the energy they stir up to feed upon. There is always a fight and you are always exhausted after.
6) Drama Queens and Kings: attention getting buggers who use their issues as a bludgeon against everyone including their family and friends and then attack you for your lack of compassion when you no longer put up with their bullshit. They aren't always psy vampires, but they are exhausting. Every ounce of your attention must be on them or the world is ending and you must agree with every word that comes out of their mouth or they cannot abide by your company. These types generally take care of themselves.
7) Demagogues: very dangerous sort of fool. They are usually intelligent and have an agenda. They will try to squish you if you oppose them. Bring out the big guns on these guys because WOW.
8) Liars: to get a working from you on their behalf they will tell you only what they want you to hear and lie about the rest to get even with someone else. This is one reason why divination is important before doing a working on behalf of someone else.
9) Bad advisers: sometimes out of the goodness of their hearts they give you completely and totally bad advise and direction then sometimes add: I'll pray for you.

I am certain there are denizens of fool types I am missing, but I am certain you get the idea.

Witches are not the only people who have problems with these types, but they present special problems for us seeing as how beloved we are to society and all. They drain us of vital energy and take our attention away from what is really important. I know that there is an Audrey Hepburn quote about not throwing people away, but I don't see this as throwing people away. I see it as letting them go else where. Be aware to not call these types friend. You may not be able to avoid them completely but you can avoid letting them into your inner circle. Alas, sometimes you find someone you have already let in is a complete fool. . .  distance distance distance. The only thing here I can recommend is a bit of graceful avoidance. Make it about you. Your plate is full, you have to take care of yourself, etc etc etc. However be warned: there are those who will claw at you and keep poking at you to get a reaction or an apology or any other piece of energy from you while they can. The really insidious ones will attack you verbally and emotionally and maybe physically to prevent you from taking away their food supply of your energy. These types are difficult and painful to extract.

At this point in time, I have decided that everyone else I meet in real life from this time forward will be screened even more heavily before I decide to tell them I am a witch. Like it should really matter at all or anything, but I am also aware that I could be setting myself up for more disappointment when someone decides they don't want to be friends with a witch and I am already emotionally invested in the relationship. Risks risks risks. It's the way of the world and I guess I have chosen mine.

Tuesday, October 29, 2013

Not all of the Tower falls when lightening strikes. . .

. . .only that which is unstable. 

It was a month ago the Lightning Struck Tower showed up on the horizon. At least I know where I am. I just had no idea that this time around that I would be playing the part of the Tower itself. Wow did lightning strike! I remember being warned that things will fall: some will just drift away in the turbulence and some violently. Nothing was to be picked back up when it fell and there were things that were most important to hold at my core and protect. I am still watching this thing unfold. I should feel more nervous, but being forewarned makes it easier to be ready for slippery ground.

" I'll show you things," She said. She didn't say they would all be pleasant. All of it important. All of it relevant. We have bickered about how best to execute the task, but this is what happens when the mail person hands you squished mail. I am now even more firm in my assessment of the statement put before me by an action of the Dalai Lama. He refused to bless a temple because it had no library. Without my library or helpful librarians, I would be in a world of hurt. Especially with all the barracudas out there calling themselves sharks. I know a few sharks. They have better manners.

I am working into this new relationship with a new mail man so to speak. She is a rough rider and introduced herself with an 8 1/2 hour cat on a hot tin roof act that nearly dropped me on my head: on September eleventh! I'm not sure, but I think I may have been an amusing toy at the moment. I know without a doubt if she really wanted to She could have snapped me up fast and rode my little meat bag into the ground. This is something that at first I thought was going to be left untalked about, but I am being poked from all realms of faery to talk not only about this but them. 

All of these strangenesses are now so many in number and so frequent and seem to have a real effect in the dense world that I can no longer see these things and think they are something I have made upon my imagination.  I have received validation of this point time and again from the dense world itself. People keep reminding me: "you aren't crazy, that really happened." I give up! 

I give up searching for my sanity cup. It can stay good and planted where it is because I am holding it and filling it with soul tea. I give up not trusting my eye when it sees something. They are there and they have a profound effect on this dense place in spite of the fact they do not live here. I give up people who ask if I need to go take my meds. They do not know what they do not know and that's just fine. I do not know the things a rocket scientist or a history professor knows and that's okay. I am neither of those things. And besides that: Really??? Who the fuck is anyone other than a qualified expert to judge whether a person needs meds or not? And if you are not that expert, then I suggest you check yourself because you are also not Gods.

I have taken the quiet moments in this parade of Spirits and ancestors to go in and work the work given me. I can see the efforts beginning to take root. . . I suppose when I come tripping into spring as I usually do, I will see green little hair sprouts rise as long as the work is done well. I have faith that I can get the work done well. Other workings as such have come to bear fruit. I am finding that I tend to take the long route when ever possible. . . ugh. Okay, well maybe not entirely ugh. I do have the most excellent adventures.

For example: I went to the Dancing Chicken House to see that a new structure had been placed there. I knew it right away to be the goat stable. Yes. . . a giant goat at that with flaming nostrils and lightning breath. The last few years I had been sick sick sick at this time ( so glad I'm not right now) and the ride was forbidden to me. I ran out to greet my friend and we saddled up to go see another friend who must be greeted up on top of the mountain peaks where the winds whip. I didn't really have anything I wanted to ask or say to my very large friend when she dropped out of the sky. ( The first time she did this I almost fell on my face and then off the mountain.) I told her I didn't know why I was there other than to say hi. She knew that. If very large predatory birds could smile I think she did. She gave me something that I was told to give to a friend of mine before I left. I'm still a little floored by the gift. I know that he will be ecstatic to get it. I don't remember the rest of the trancing, but I felt a peace wash over me that I know can only come from the blessings of the faery realm.

One more thing:

Don't argue with anyone who is committed to misunderstanding you.

Monday, September 30, 2013

Fear the copper pennies!

I may be delusional, but I think Autumn may have more than a two week shelf life out here this year. The evening is chilled enough for me to think that a long sleeve is a good idea and that strange 'cold clarity' that comes with that chill is slowly rising out of a mirage stricken pavement.

My ancestor working beads came in and I quickly went to work making ancestor connection talismans. The first one goes to my witchling who is actively learning to walk in a 'crooked' manner. The rest go out from Odd soon to seek others ready to do the work. Samhain feels thick this year. I know that sounds like a paradox, but I think I have pin pointed the feeling upon review of the situation. It's plain old 'I'm addicted to fear and if I can't have real fear I'll make some.' Really there are loads of people who make their weather and cry about the rain. That's all this is. It's like grow up class got skipped or something.

I have been at least observant of the pagan online community for quite some time *shudder* and every single year as the equinox rolls through there is this crazy voice decrying how evil we are for praying over candy in spite of the fact that they pray over candy as well. Quite frankly, I am nauseated to boredom on this subject but I dare not take my eyes off of fanatics lest they do the standard desperate we are right and if we are not we will crash the plane in spite thing. True story. . . it happens.

So my solution to all this insanity is to pray over the candy. EVERY BLASTED SINGLE BAG OF IT I COME ACROSS!  Yesssssssss! Even and ESPECIALLY the candy corn because I'm a bitchy faced witch right now. If the fanatics are going to bang the fear mongering drum as loud as they possibly can with out-right bullshit and lies, then I will pray for the safety and preservation of common sense within the innocents they attack. We have seen this behavior in other aspects as well. Remember the Texas Gov's The Response??? Or how about the renaming of the States (my favorite was Throw Jezebel From a Wall State: New Jersey) and reclaiming the District of Columbia as the District of Christ because if it isn't properly Christian  ( in their fanatic eyes) it must be of absolute profane evil. . . like the rest of the world doesn't exist or something like that. . . really children??? . . stop throwing sand in the sand box or you'll get sand in your eyes too.

So here goes:

Holy Mother, 
Divine hand of Providence, I pray that you bless those who receive these sweets be endowed with your grace, protection from the profane, an open eye of wisdom so true discernment may happen, a will to call the hypocrites out on the harmful bullshit as bullshit, and stand firm in their assessment with resolve to move forward toward love. 

Ho O'pono pono Amene

Yes I know. . . it's not the Maleficent I originally intended ( lucky everyone). I actually talked myself out of the Victor style praying tree. . . but there's always next year. Pray I do not alter the magic. Yes go ahead, fear the copper pennies you find in the candy display bins if you want, but if you are smart, you'll pick it up and make a wish.

Sunday, September 22, 2013

Just got stranger. . . new cup!

Mabon came in with a bolt of lightening and turned things on their head. Including me. Everything is still facing North but it is all upside down, if that makes any sense at all. I must be feeling the season settle in or some strangeness indigenous to Odd, but I feel a calm even as I know there is a storm coming and it may not be pretty. That is the most Odd thing of all. I am usually spun up emotionally and tempest tossed by the current. Am I sitting on my surf board well finally? I don't know. I just know that now, more than ever I feel compelled to watch carefully everything. I can feel my inner self smell the shifting winds and even though there is a calm hand upon me, I feel a dreadful purpose and it draws closer to us all. I am not left with out hope. Quite the opposite, it feels like grim focus on what it is I need to do to make things right with me and mine.

Three words have been spinning around in my head:


It rolls through my head like my reiki mantra does while I am working. I feel like I have been struck by lightening as I am going through my daily rituals. Each one has had an added dimension to them with subtle shifts that have shifted some of the meanings of things I grew up with in my pagan witchy career. I still trying to absorb everything in an organic gentle way. I know better to push something like this. Butterflies must open by themselves lest harm comes to them and prevents them from flying.

I have been quietly witnessing the shifts I have seen happen in the online pagan community. Once respected voices have fallen away in either frustration or disgust. There is behind the scenes gossip girl  behavior that makes my bottle of gossip girl gag want to find bottom. Name calling, finger pointing, personal attacks. . . blah blah galah. AAAAAAHHHKK!


I am sorry those voices have felt compelled to leave the general online pagan community. Those voices will be missed, but I understand the need to step back and gather oneself. I wish them fair travel winds and sweet water enjoy your journey and come home when you are ready. I will be waiting patiently for you at any rate.

I don't know how close to the surface I am going to be this year as the Samhain Gods come to call me to my work. I feel some thing very deep below calling my name and I am compelled to respond. I will try to be in touch with the world via twitter, but you all know how my blogging becomes at this time of year.

One more thing to remember:

She who stirs the cauldron is not the slave.

Names have been called. The Land of Odd just got stranger if that is at all possible.

Wednesday, September 4, 2013

Close your eyes and look up.

Press Play

I can feel the Gods rouse to their time on the year wheel's stage. His hooven feet start to scrape and echo; I feel it in my bones. It's a sort of thing that resonates like a gong only it comes from within.  It won't  be long before the magic chore whoring for the season begins and I volunteer for the annual kidnapping. Yeah, sure, I'll stir that for you. ( note to self. . . don't touch anything and don't taste anything!)  If you close your eyes and listen to Panoramic from the Book of Eli score, you can get an idea of what that pull feels like.

Breathe Deeply Through your Nose

I think I am in love with the way that sound feels. I reminds me of the pull of gravity. It's not the gravity that pulls you down here on this well we call Earth, but the pull of our personal sun star. That piece of ourselves that is both manifest and ethereal; I call that center and I do see it as a star. I think I see my center as a star because I grew up with my Father telling me that I was made of star stuff.

The sound that I crave to hear often comes as something that, at first blush sounds, empty and lonely. It is this sound that makes me seek out its source and I always come back to me and when I am at my most still I can hear that my whispers are not being echoed back at me, but whispers from something far more immense in measure and wisdom. Most of the time I don't remember the words. The words were never important. It was that peace that washes through me in that moment. Maybe the words and wisdom and imagery were indeed all in my head, but there is also, in fact, a physical response to what my brain is experiencing.

Many years ago, a friend posed this question: how would you feel if you were the last person to see the last of a dying star's light? I was sad at first and told him so. The question has pitter pattered behind me with it's mark still dancing in my mind. The emotional response has shifted over the years, like a snake that sheds it's skin to reveal a new understanding of a larger body. I have come to an understanding that the reason this sound feels lonely at first is because it is the sound of light traveling to a specific destination though a vast ocean. Light years. . . that's a long time to measure by earth human standard. Everything would echo in your soul. There's no where else for it to go. If I am made of star stuff and I am the custodian of the last of the light from a star, wouldn't I be moved by the sound of its travels?

This has been your visit to Odd.
And remember that you are made of star stuff too.

Friday, August 30, 2013

Going for a Bitch Walk. . .

I was in a conversation with peers on the subject of social activism and how far our responsibility to it goes. I am not really a social activist, but when I see something wrong ( and right) I have a terrible habit of opening my mouth and putting my .02 on the table. Really, I should be paying a quarter because most of what I say is not terribly pretty. Ugh. There were others who felt as though they should be advocating their calling to justice and rightness, but they weren't too sure how much and how far to go with it. Hopefully they work through and find an answer that works for them. I wish them good hunting. My answer is simple. It works for me. I focus on the city I live in for the most part. I have a personal calling to the protection of women and children. I have a special wicked venom for child molesters and rapists.

There are two separate workings I will share with you because I can't be in every city and I am sure I am not alone in this feeling of no more! Not in my city!

Bitch Walk

If you are so lucky as to have a bitch (female dog), most excellent. You will want to leash her up and go for a twilight walk, as it is a great liminal time to call upon Hecate and her hounds. Yes, do walk by all the houses in your neighborhood with annoying barking dogs. See how many dogs you can get barking. ( no cheating. just walk by the house respectfully.) Of course, the entire time you are whispering to Hecate and her hounds about the particulars of the violation against women and children and calling upon her for help. Be very specific about what happened. Be certain to whisper. It connects you to the divine in an intimate manner. Listen to your bitch. Watch were she wants to go and what's around. Take mental notes and taste the wind. If you want, you can do this with a poppet in hand of the perpetrator or a rolled up scroll of the artistic rendering. When you have gathered your forces to a point you feel you can take no more, head for a crossroads and leave the poppet or scroll at its center. Walk away. Do not look back. When you get home, make sure your faithful bitch is well rewarded.

If you do not have a bitch, do not fret. Get a dog fetish or simply print out a picture of your favorite breed of dog and go for the same walk. Leave an offering of a special dog treat on your altar.

To Catch a Rapist
best performed during the times the perpetrator is known to strike.


black candle inscribed with the name of your city, the sigil for Venus and a pentacle for protection.
red thread
photo of perpetrator, or the composite sketch
war water
ziplock bag
water from the tap ( city water from which you live or the perpetrator if you know him/her)
garlic bulb or egg for offering
goofer's dust

* call circle and guardians
*Call Hecate

Queen of the Heavens
Queen of the Dead
Walker above, below, and between the worlds
Come be near your priest/ess this hour
Help me/ us to stop this violator of women and children
Lend your might to this casting,
Come and attend and protect this rite and this city.

Wait for a sign of Her presence, in darkness if you can. Light inscribed candle. Cut out the composite sketch while focusing on his or her every move being foiled by his/ her own hand. Place a pinch of goofer's dust in the middle of the paper and fold into thirds before very carefully rolling into a scroll. You may want to do this on news paper because goofer's dust is not something you want to spill all over the place and have a hard time cleaning up. Continue to focus on this person goofing up enough to be caught properly by authority to be punished civilly. As you focus on this wind the red cord around the scroll saying:

This red thread to start the charm
This red thread to end your harm
This red thread to track your tread
this read thread to stop you dead. ( Let the Goddess determine how literally to take this phrase.)

Repeat this with heat ( not hate) until the scroll is glowing with heat and power and the scroll is wrapped and knotted three times.

Hold the charm and visualize the violator being caught and appropriately handled. Place the charm in a zip lock bag with war water and city tap water. Seal it well and place it in the freezer until the violator is caught and dealt with.

* Thank Hecate and say farewell
* Thank the guardians
* Open circle

When done take the whole frozen bag to a crossroad with a trash can far from your home and toss it. Leave the offering ( egg or garlic bulb.) Do not look back.

from the Book of Purple

Basic Goofer's dust
equal parts patchouli and graveyard dirt
( properly paid for from the grave of a beloved Matriarch; preferably from the head or heart area. If that is not available, buy it from a graveyard gateway)
sulphur or saltpeter ( only a couple of pinches, something to give it oomph.)

I don't generally meddle in a whole bunch of things outside my city or state. I tend to pick my fights, as we all should. On occasion there are things that have been brought to my door that would normally be considered "out of my jurisdiction."  For example a friend brought my attention to an attack on one of her best girlfriends. Yup. You bet' cha jurisdiction went right out the eff'ing window.

You may or may not agree with me about my policy on hexing and that's okay. But, if ever there comes a time you change your mind and need one of these workings, they are here patiently waiting for you.


Tuesday, August 20, 2013

Angry imps!

I like this discussion on the dark side of meditation and the issues that can occur. I view them of course not necessarily from a scientific or even scholastic perspective. I come to this discussion from personal experience ( which is king in my book) and a shamanic eye. It is necessary to have this discussion because these are real consequences of awakening a possible shaman without the lore/ guiding hand/ shamanic ethos and spirit contact. Meditation is not a practice of scientifically silencing the mind and it's voice, it is a conscious effort to connect yourself with the divine part of yourself and divinity as we are able to perceive and understand. This requires understanding of uncommon sense to be applied in a common sense world. Yes this is indeed a paradox, but if you are in the mirror's reflection, everything is backward, yet we still understand it.

 I agree with the Dalai Lama: you cannot have a Temple without a large library to support it. ( Library guides are also very much desired.) Libraries and library guides teach us that there are answers out there and if they are not direct answers, we are able to take the facts or read a pattern and bring it into focus to understand or at least come to terms with the strangenesses currently in play. Between libraries and meditation, shamans thrive; remove the libraries and the whole kit and caboodle is insanity in a crazy burlap bag of angry wet cats. Poor burlap bag. I believe that when you are centered within yourself while in meditation that what you have learned has the potential to become wisdom through right action.  I think we often forget that life is a mystery to experience not analyze.

I have had some very negative experiences in both meditation and trance. That does not make me unstable. It makes me pretty "normal." EEEEEKKKK When these disturbing things occur it is a cue for me not to run away, but to carefully inspect. I may be experiencing an angry shard of myself or even missing soul piece! That is not to be ignored or taken lightly in the shamanic world. ( it is also not red alert/ klaxon alarm/ panic button pushing event.) It could be causing illness, true indeed, even emotional disturbances. . . the good news is that you can fix it. In fact, when these things come up you are being invited to help heal the issue. Not just fix it; heal it, mend it, bring the tattered ends together for peace talks. These things, these dark frightening things that hide in our beings. . . they are us. And they want the same things we want: love and acceptance for who and what they are. Really it's like the soul shattered off and made all these little imp like shards and they come back to haunt us. The only truth we need to understand in these moments is this: It may be an imp, but it's my imp and I love it. Well loved imps are much better behaved than ignored, ostracized, and angry imps.

Thus the witch proverb:

Faithfully serve your imp, and S/He shall faithfully serve you.

Friday, August 16, 2013

Flying monkeys spotted over school offices everywhere!

Oh my dear Oddlings,
I have to do a terrible thing.

I must share with you a string of connections that made me cringe.

We all know that I have been labeled a combative parent because I will not allow the adults in the school to bully me into compliance with what ever inane plan they come up with. With my eldest he was too much a handful to control in the classroom environment ( for teachers with no ability to hold authority.) In other words they do not know how to discipline effectively and when we at home disciplined him for stealing from a store, the school called CPS on us for child abuse. The only thing that saved us was the fact that our,  then,  6 year old son could not keep his lies straight. At one point in time the police pulled my son from the school property to question him with out my permission. I only found out because he was not on the school bus. When I called the principal in hysterics to find out what the hexes happened to my son, he raged and screamed at me that it was HIS job to make sure my child was safe.

My son was a real lightning rod when it came to authority figures and their abuse of the system and even violations of the constitution over the next school years and they sure as heck made sure that he continued to not learn. Yes. . . those IEP's waste of time and breath and most heinously a waste of paper. He would not have graduated high school if I had not sent him to his Grandparents and removed him from this system. In reality, that is both his and the system's fault. I fault the system because they said things like: ( "don't worry about making him do home work. . . preserve the relationship. ") WTF???! No! Don't teach him that it's ok to not do the work and not do it well! ( btw this is one of the reasons I have been labeled combative. I argue about how to raise my kids when they make insane suggestions as the previous statement.)Well apparently, I am a dumb ass combative parent who does not know thing one about anything since I can't submit to their authority.

After the CPS disaster with the school, we opted for a charter school, who also had trouble getting my son to heel. I had trouble getting my son to heel after he figured out that he could play the school against the parents! What came next was every minorities nightmare. My son would get into the car sobbing and he wouldn't tell me why. When he finally did he told me that the teachers were talking about Harry Potter and how witches weren't real. This lead to me being outed as a witch. He stood up and said: That's not true! My Mom is a witch! And she's real!

well fuck!

He revealed to me how the other kids were picking on him and no one would do anything about it. I asked the school about this and they denied knowing anything about it. Which was interesting since it was a small one room class setting with very little possibility of not over hearing a bunch of children being bullies. Needless to say after a big fat fight I withdrew my son from that school and into another public school in the district were had moved to.

I made certain at that point to inform the school that they had a pagan child. I went to WitchVox's section for said suggestions and followed them. BTW not a good idea. Word gets around. The grapevine is merciless and back shooters abound. It's like from that point on I opened myself and my children to a silent sort of bigotry that led to low level emotional hostility. No one bothered to hear anything other than witch and non compliant and combative parent. It's like Pass Down notes from the previous security shift that I can't prove exist, but they're being used against me. There has been so much bad faith and plain horrendous customer service at the school office that it's enraging. I can't accomplish a simple task with out consuming behemoth amounts of time for them to get around to helping me. And when you will no longer take their mean girl bullying and moral lectures of how holy a place a school is and how grand their position is they bring down the might of the law. It doesn't even have to be an accurate accounting of events, as they have so aptly displayed by their accounting of what happened. I think someone is a liar and afraid.

So here I am today, thirteen years later still not taking their crap, and pretty much having the same sort of fights. Nothing has changed. Nothing is better. In fact it's worse! And I have 11 more years of this crap to go!

Arizona School districts, if your budget hadn't been  raided by Sheriff Joe's show dog routine yet, might I suggest you get some serious attention on how better to service you customers. Other states are talking to giants like Disney. No really. . . you need to do something. . .  Just because you are in admin does not mean you are not in customer service. Any time you engage a customer from behind a desk, that means customer service and I have had better service at one of the dirtiest Walmarts in town than at most school offices that I have had to stand before in the last 13 years!

And now the scary connection I promised you. I am certain that it is not just parents who are fed up with the adult bullies in schools. I am certain they are the reason our children become non compliant and refuse to learn. They seem to have completely rejected the whole kit and caboodle and want nothing to do with anyone who enforces such inane policies. I can't say that after everything I have experienced at the hands of 4 different schools, 3 different districts, and through all three children, I blame anyone for becoming non compliant in the eyes of this kind of "authority".  Here's the horror: 15 year old denied heart because he has bad grades and is non compliant. They have changed their minds about that, but only after a raucous noise was raised. That's racism of a new breed.

I do believe that is called eugenics.

So, you'll give someone like Dick Cheney ( who eats kittens) a brand spanking new borrowed heart, and not a 15 year old who has a whole world ahead of him because he's not compliant??? What other essential things are going to be denied due to 'non compliant' behavior?

Here's some food for thought: If you don't want your authority challenged, you have no place being in authority. Ever.

Customer service so bad they actually have to take classes on how to do it right!

ARS 13 2911 (and relevant passages)

Articles of admistrative abuses:


Wednesday, August 14, 2013

HEXEN! ( almost as good as screaming fart!)

Many years ago there was a moment when a friend and I were going though witchy books I have in my library. One of them happened to be a Valerie Worth book with some pretty hefty zingers. Well, she had dropped her jaw at one point and asked me when the heck is ok do to this??? She thrust the orange book upon me and upon page 85 there was in bold letters: a charm to waste another's wealth. I didn't have an answer for her then. I didn't have an answer for myself and I didn't for quite some time.

I am a much older witch now. And now I have an answer that I think worthy of sharing as to why we would wither away the wealth of another. When man makes rules that protect them from reprisal for their own evil deeds against humanity. When justice becomes a farce, and the sheep dogs feast on mutton, we retaliate in this manner. It is why we are here. "Coincidentally" many of these things zoom their way to either our attention or straight into our personal cauldrons and leave a big fat stinky mess when all we want to do is take a bath and be left alone. It's why I refer to us ( witches, shamans, magicians, wizards, warlocks, conjurers. . .) as agents of balance.

Money is not power. Knowledge is. The only power money has is the power of acquisition. This is often times mistaken as power especially by those whose only power is through their money. Remove this, and they are helpless and can no longer abuse their position and inflict themselves upon humanity. There are reasons to remove someone from power like this. People who play the good ol' boy and mean girl games and use the might of the law to get away with it. . . yeah hello, hexy poo to you.

As a witch who is surrounded by Catholics and Christians, I have recovered from my allergic reaction to the bible and started to use it against those who present themselves as my foes. . . after all most of them understand that language. Of course, what the hex is a poppet maker gonna curse with other than a poppet???? ( I think if I told you how much hotfoot I used in that bi-atch you would cringe as much as anyone who said dropped bowling ball on foot.)

Clearly, this working is not the one on page 85. But as I went through my own witchy career, I have found that there are other witches who also feel in this manner. . . in fact, it goes all the way back to The Gospel of the Witches written in the way back when, when they understood that thing the Bene Gesserit say:

Rules build up fortifications behind which small minds create satrapies. A perilous state of affairs in the best of times, disastrous during crises.

The only way to get around this??? Call down the Lightning!

Friday, August 9, 2013

My friend, Stinky!

She arrived last week and was unveiled to the ooo's and aww's of a gaggle of magic people who happened to be here when the mail man rang the door. She ( I'm not sure if the beastie was a he or she, but I keep leaning toward she. Eh hem. . . sorry I digress) - she is sweeter than the photo revealed and a pristine example of loving hands tending her postmortem. I was asked why a skunk skull?? Honestly, I have had skunk encounters all my life. Never once sprayed and each time either individuals or, at one time, Mama and all her little skunklings in tow. . . yes, they walk in a line right behind mom.

My most recent encounter happened right before my quiet little magic hidey hole was sealed off to everyone. I was sitting watching the water lap the rivers edge and a rustle in the grasses caught my attention. The biggest skunk in the entire freaking world strode out like he just lost his patience with me for not asking him to join in the quarter calls! I know right? How dare I be so rude?! He paced up to me sitting there, absolutely entranced with his presence and paused to look me over a few more times. He snorted and went on his way, then so did I.

I never shook that encounter. It still makes me smile. I really didn't know how much I wanted a skunk skull until I saw this sweet one. I was more interested in seeing if I could get a hold of a corvid skull for my Hecate altar. As it turns out I may have more in common with this little one than I thought. They tend to be very independent and make interesting choices as to who they will spray and who they will stride up and nuzzle. Oh yes, this has indeed happened. I woke once on a camping trip with a skunk curled up with me. Really it was fine, no one got sprayed and the skunk stayed warm. It seems they have this sixth sense about who is friend and foe. I'm sure owl people and skunk people are not friends at all, but skunk usually has no qualms with anyone unless they get all trash mouthy. Maybe it's because skunk people have no issues with making a stink over outrageous behavior. In fact, you could say they are famous for it.

I think that skunk medicine certainly has a place on my Hecate altar. If you look at the energies of the skunk familiar/totem it is self apparent. I also think it is interesting that both of us know how to make a stink. . . no really! Skunks may repel people because of their smell, however they are rumored to be highly charismatic. And yes, the obvious comparison is that I do not suffer fools well, but the less obvious comparison is the aromatherapy obsession. . . I guess that makes me stinky too.

Here's some nice links to go visit if you want to peek into the ways of the Skunk People:

Friday, August 2, 2013

School has started ( deflated sigh. . .)

The red light haze of the monsoon season settles into the dusk sky as I walk through the neighborhood and even so, I find my head bowing under my hat to hide from the sun. The sensation is different this year. Last summer, I could feel flames on the breeze lick my skin as I passed through the heat waves that wavered from the concrete. Ritual rolled through my head and my feet kept time: iron, pearl, kala...

The Faery Godmother Oddlings still sit on my desk bald as babies wishing for hair. It's been a bit of a looper to get back into stride for the school cycle of the year. Most parents jump up and down for joy when school starts, I guess. I am not one of them. There are things about the educational system that disturb me including the fact that several times a couple of school authorities told me it was their job to take care of my children and that I was a part of their team. My response of course, was predictable to any one who knows me: two thousand pounds of very angry dragon landing on your head.

Common core is something that I have concerns about as well. Not for the common core itself, I can see why it would be very attractive to teachers at first blush. However I see nothing in there that will reach the lofty goals they are trying to set for our children. You can change standards all you want, but if you do not have a curriculum to attain the standards, all is for not! All that will change is the failure rate, in the completely opposite direction of where we wish to be. This will prompt our beloved puppets in puppet world to have a coronary and mess things up even further by introducing the patriot act of education. This is where we head into very dangerous territory and the insanity begins. Please remember the definition of insanity that I am using is one we are familiar with: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.

So, as you can see, I am never really thrilled about sending my children to school and having to deprogram out the social bullshit and underhanded information mining done by a few teachers: example???? OK, I have one that has has repeated in two different generations. While my sister was in high school, she received a questionnaire from her teacher and asked her students to fill them out and return them. The problem was the questions were deeply personal, not just invasive to the students' personal life, but the whole family's personal dynamic. ON top of that, she was told to not tell her parents about this questionnaire. I saw that again in my daughter's class, this year. It wasn't even a frakking week in. . . just like the last time we saw this sort of questionnaire.  And just like the last time, she was advised not to show this to her parents. Good thing she has her head on right.  There are other things of course, like the biggest bullies in the schoolyard seem to be some of the adults. Seems they just want the no bullying thing in place to look good. Either that or they just don't like competition.

I don't like this. I have been told over and over that this sort of thing doesn't happen in spite of the hard evidence. I must be one hell of a witch to manifest proof like that out of thin air from my own personal delusion. Watch out! you never know what else I am capable of.

Witches are owls. That is all...

Monday, July 22, 2013

Beginnings are a most delicate time. . .

It's now sticky hot and the mirages shimmer more intensely on the road as I take my walks. Sometimes I think I can see a glimmering of somewhere else in those fleeting little mirrors. I thought in the beginning of summer that I was going to completely desiccate and be reduced to powder with the intensity of the sun's heat. Now there seems to be no oxygen in the air. It's all been flooded with moisture. I can see the Fremen troop in my mind dancing with glee as they start setting up wind traps, for this has got to be a Mother of delivery for them. The only thing better would be a Grandfather of a worm headed toward their thumper.

The sunflowers have since grown, flowered and gone to seed. I cut them down in proper season and proper ceremony leaving the faery three I marked earlier. That in itself had interesting results. The three that I had marked, by the time harvest actually came around, had been dried and stripped of their seeds while the rest were still green and the seeds plentiful. The sunflowers were a marvelous companion through the beginning of summer. They waved in the wind, bowing their full heads, they attracted enchanting bugs of every shiny color, bees created a super highway to get to my flowers and rush back to the hive with tales of pleasant, yellow pollen. Kneeling down beneath them brought on a cool rush of relief from the sun regardless of time of day. I can see how making a semi circle of them in a fort like fashion would make for a fine summer faery hut.

As promised earlier, I have news of the most excellent kind. I have working with a friend of mine who is also a healer. He uses accupressure massage techniques with a good whopping of reiki for good measure. I have discovered several things in this process. . . my joints are weird for beginners. Apparently I am one of those with all sorts of crazy cross ties that allow me to do insane things like function and walk like a real person while my joints are completely out of socket. I apparently walked ( danced, ran, and skipped) around on a hip joint that was being held by a tendon strap; completely out of place for 19 years! When it went back into it's proper position on the table, there was a great pop that sounded like someone  had whacked a trash can with a hammer. I remember hearing that same sort of pop while giving birth to my first child. I guess now we know what it was. Since that moment, my fibromyalgia symptoms have begun to quickly retreat. I wake up in the morning and I feel like I can do my day with out the usual pep talk about how my circumstance may choose me, but I choose how I walk it.

There have been strangenesses. The first time the hip went in we had to stand and make a few quick adjustments. I slipped out of myself and saw myself in a completely different time and space. I was standing over a lake with wind over the water in a desert place. It was a full experience. My eyes could see, my ears could see, my skin could see and then it was gone. It lasted for no more of a blink of an eye here in this time space. I have had several other similar experiences since. I sort of attribute it to the unlocking of my body releasing things that became trapped and with that, a release other things from my soul's memories slips through I guess. It's a theory.

There are people ( many of them) who deserve my thanks. They have earned it.

 Mr. Oddly: I know things have been hard. We have not worked out a good balance yet, but we are working on it. Your willingness to continue to pass through the firestorms I can produce would make any firefighter retreat for safety. I wish good marriages equaled no conflict, but that would make me delusional. Dragon husbandry is a hard career.

Mom and Dad: You knew I could do this before I did.

Tails, Scarlett, and Little Man: I love you all my little ones ( yes Tails, even you, will always be my little one even though I need a stepladder to look you in the eye. Scarlett. . . no, you are not yet taller than me.) your help and extra hands are a Goddess send and all those jokes and laughs. . . well who couldn't get better with that?

Zoe: keep writing, it makes me happy to see your thoughts paint the sky with brilliance.

Nikki: Thick and thin; bestfriendicide and all. You have been nothing but shade and cool water and the occasional desert chanty.

Mr. NotBeck: your healing talents are only surpassed by the generosity of your heart and friendship.

Mr. Freeman aka Lilith's Priest: I am honored that you would find me worthy of your healing ministrations.

Nick: you shine in the middle.

Laura: Sweet, sweet woman. . . how does this sour puss get set next to you and expected to out do your radiance??? Well it's not happening, not in this world anyway ;)

YOU: yes you. The one with their eyes scrolling across this screen. Your comments, your tweets, your shares, and likes. In a world where friends live in little boxes on laps, funky hand held cubes, and other strangenesses sure to fly our way, you have contributed to my well being. I honor and welcome the continuance of that relationship. You have lent me your eyes and ears and heart and tears. And the occasional evil snicker. 

You Stand Against Me: at the end of the day it doesn't matter who stood and who fell. It's the lesson you taught me. You taught me the the holy scripture of "I." I bow before you, my foe, I know may fall here and I accept the lesson of surrender when it is time.

I am honored and blessed to have all of you.

the beginning. . .

Friday, June 7, 2013

Sing it Stilgar!

The summer heat is beginning to set in to its infernal burning levels and all of us are trying to dig in deeper into our air conditioned, darkened spaces trying to ignore the flames outside. I think even the fallen angel Lucifer has pulled up stakes and went up North for the summer because even he can't stand the heat. And with the crazy summer heat comes the crazy summer occupation of figuring out what the kids can do indoors and not destroy themselves or the home.

I was sent a package earlier. A friend had sent a bunch of jewelry pieces that she needed broken up and properly dispersed. There were some pieces she wanted recreated and returned to her. I was surprised at what I discovered as I was handling the pieces. One of them felt very old world and upon talking to her, I discovered that indeed the piece was from the Old World. This process reaffirmed something for me. It reaffirmed the necessity of curiosity. The instinct that asks. . . what is that? How does it work? where does this fit? What happens if I. . . ( if this is followed up with: "here hold this."  . . you should duck out of the way. Nothing good ever happens after that.) The question I had asked earlier was: what does the earth of different parts of the world feel like? I am lucky enough to have friends who have indulged me on their travels and brought back small bottles of earth from the different places they have been. It was that strangeness of a hobby I developed that informed my new project. It was that same spark that told me that the charm in my hand came from somewhere far off with ancient tree roots. It's the same overlap that informs the cross over from my viridarium work, embroidery, sewing then to my poppet work.

 Once again, my father was right. Learn as much as you can in as wide a spectrum as you can handle. You never know where it will lead or what other parts of your life it will enrich and inform. No education is ever a waste, but it does beg a question: why do we have to become indentured servants to get a "proper" education? And what precisely is a "proper" education? Everyone seems to be defining that for us. It's like peer pressure gone insane and no one noticed. Go get an education even though you have no idea what it is you stand for or want to do with yourself, spend forty thousand dollars doing it and spend eternity trying to scrape enough money up at the end of the day to eat and pay off that crazy loan. I don't think we are here to be someone else's brick. There has got to be more to life than working toward someone else's dream of ambition and power.

I think on my kids bucket list of things to do are going to include things like: play an instrument ( even if it's badly), read a bunch of books, get hobbies, get wet and dirty, drink lots of water, hide from the sun at appropriate intervals and watch Miyazaki movies, and dream in technicolor. One day people will understand that bricks may be easier to build with and replace, but stones mingle well with others. . . unless you are a hermit stone.

I have since recreated my friend's jewelry into something I hope guides her as true as the North Star. I sent it in a care package with a bunch of other Oddly goodies that can't possibly replace hugs and kisses, but I'm gonna try anyway. I am hoping that the desert chanties of far off, impossible places lures her to my doorstep soon.

Ok Stilgar, sing! Make her hear you.

Friday, May 24, 2013

Oh that stalky feeling. . . trust it.

There is a necessary thing I must discuss right now, in spite of the fact that my nerves are still jingle jangled up. Over the years and varying jobs I have held have taught me a very specific skill set. Why??? Because, apparently, I need that crap. I am quasi cute, little, and look easy to manage until I open the big fat sailor mouth my Father bestowed upon me, ( thanks Dad.) I was taught, over the years, to know when I was being stalked.

It's that rumbling and churning in that dark place in your gut. As Feri, I recognize that place as where the Unihipli resides. It went ice cold and rolled through me as I noticed a Black humvee like vehicle slowing and pulling closer. I felt it happen in the back of my brain, just like it did the first time. I actually owe a great large thanks to a specific few Athletic pros. I had learned that some athletes have a predatory edge to them especially in regards to women they mean to woo. There was a physiological response. Everything in me flooded with adrenaline and I turned to see what had spawned such a reaction and this man's eyes had stripped me to the bone with precision. Needless to say, I fled like my heart was going to explode with terror. That was my first experience with the Stalking energy.

It was many years and under different circumstance that I encountered that energy again. I was on the way to the store on a fall morning in Tempe. The weather had spawned a weird fog that danced on the ground in rising spirals as the cars stirred it up. I was sitting at a stop light when I thought I saw a black wolf peek from the fog. I thought I had lost my mind because it was gone just as fast as I thought it was there and the light had just turned against a second look out in the fog. I remember being more curious that shaken at the experience and continued about my business. I was quickly approached in the store by a stranger who wanted to know if I worked out and where because his girl friend wanted him to go get fit. I was stabbed with ice and that same dread feeling I had been taught years ago. I recalled the wolf and sent him sharply on his way. He came back at me forcing me to repeat my move on command much louder and in my scariest Mom voice possible. The adrenaline rushed as it had before and I thanked the wolf that warned me on my toes.

I have another tale of similar experience and then today. The alarms went off like a gong as this guy slowed. He asked me where a street was and grew frustrated when I wouldn't approach the vehicle. He tried to lean closer and I backed away telling him I don't know. I am new to the neighborhood. Both true by the way. I told him to use his phone and look it up on google he'd have better luck than asking me. I walked on and any fool could have seen that I was a little spooked. He whipped his vehicle around  to ask me more questions and I kept going he wanted to stop and I whipped out that Mom voice that only comes when the Unihipili engages and all three souls suddenly snap together with a single command.

"Move along, there's nothing here for you. ( hand swishes through the air. . . no really. . . preferably in the direction you wish to banish this to.)"

I think my Unihipili likes the Jedi Universe model on occasion.

But what did you expect? She also like Dr. Seuss.

I digress.

The underlying lesson here is simple. If you feel from your core a creeping feeling that sets the heart a flight and a cold rush of ice in your blood. If it tells you you are being stalked. . .

Trust it.

Friday, May 17, 2013

Bus stop mom problems

Fear and ecstasy have both been proclaimed on high to be the little death. Fear, however, goes deeper. Fear is also the little death that leads to total obliteration if we are to listen to the Bene Gesserit. I also ran into a reclaiming chant that talks about where there is fear there is power. While I agree to that statement in general. .  I think the specifics of that thought form will differ vastly. I was raised to recognize and reject demagoguery.

Yes there is power in fear. But it is the power of force. Power over. The power that fear bought is as transitory as a person's decision to face that fear, stare it down, and nail that foe to the wall as a trophy. Fear is a mere flash of lightning in the face of love's power. Both lightning and fear have the power to be devastatingly destructive and by holding either of these potent forces is the same as squeezing broken glass in your fist.

We are exhorted as warriors to seek balance within and without. We are reminded that we are not to seek out fighting for the sake of battle, but to go into battle as a means of defending yourself and the ones we love. I am finding that the battle has been brought to me. I live at a bus stop and watch how the kids interact with each other. There's this one party who always seems to get the raw end of the stick. This child is constantly taunted in passive and aggressive ways by another in particular and no one seems to make this prober back off of its prey. I realize what it is these kids are responding to; I also realize that they have no clue, what so ever, as to why they are behaving in the manners they do. I am watching a microcosm of the enclosure effect and it alarms me. No one wants to stand up to the bully. They are all afraid to have an unpopular response to a situation even if it is the correct one.

They are also probably afraid for their lives. I think they smell it too after this morning. I intervened and have in the past between these to butting heads. This was different. There was a hysterical frustration voiced in both tenor and tremble. It frightened me. I am frightened this child may snap. I am frightened that the prober/child has no idea that it could be putting itself in target position. I am frightened that these behavior patterns in our children will only grow more prevalent. I feel intense pressure all around these children as they wait for the bus.

It's horrifying watching other people's children behave as a wild pack of screeching banshees picking each other apart with no respect paid to the skeletons they leave in their wake.

What is it I am to do with this fear as it stalks me? It is indeed a very real and rational fear. I have ideas that include things like peace water sidewalk wash and making chalk drawings on the drive way with magic chalk . . .  let the little man loose. I'll sacrifice some chalks for that cause.

I am not seeking power over the situation with these acts. I am seeking to create a flow of positive energy that prevents all people hanging out in front of my home from believing the imprecations hurled upon them by the cruelness of adolescent behavior.

The school year is almost gone. Literally in two weeks so I need to move fast if I expect to test run it for next season. This thing, drama, what ever it is in front of my house needs to stop presenting itself as a threat to my family's well being.

I feel more settled and now that I faced my fear and followed it's path to nothingness, I find that there is indeed only myself and that the real answer is far more loving and kind than I expected.

Tuesday, May 7, 2013

Thumper sounds

Dune. Dune. Dune . . . It rolls around in my head and echoes like the deep thrum of a thumper calling something to me. The Fremen, The Bene Gesserit Witches, The Mentats, the Spacing Guild, The Worms, the spice and the eyes. It's the eyes that catch my attention the most. A shade of bewitching qualities. Politics, Shamanism, Jealousy, Greed, Survival, Love, Faith. . . all of those things that excites the iron in our blood and makes it roil for passion is sung in desert chanties secretly inbetween the lines of the story. If you listen you can hear the lonely Stilgar, the unnamed fanatic being born, the devoted heart brother, the conflicted wives. Life and some of its truths I find written in a manner not so far removed from our own realities. It makes the lesson more clear when you can see it from a higher vantage and remove some of the pain inflicted by its passage. Another reason to keep our Shamans well fed ;)

Running the iron pentacle has become something I have been more focused on as I a reading Dune this round. Inevitably, as I have engrained into myself during my training days, the pearl follows quickly brought to heel with a prayer to the Star Goddess and Kala. It's a ritual that flows from one exercise to another like water for me, it's as instilled into me as much as the litany against fear. I shall not fear. Fear is the mind killer. It is the little death that leads to total obliteration. I put that one there on purpose as a teen and it followed me through my life as a faithful servant of self mastery in the moment. A way to ease that quibbley blob of fat in my skull when it freaks out. I am indebted to Frank Herbert's genius for this piece of calming magic.

I am committing an atrocity in the bibliophile world. I am writing in my tattered soft cover. I am reading with a pen, marking the wisdom as I find it. I can't just let this book go even though the cover is duct taped on, the pages threatening to flee out of order and flutter away abandoning me for the illusion of freedom.

I can still hear the thumper.

I know what has been invoked and I must stand firm in the sand with my hooks in my hand. The hiss of the moving worm grows louder. I shall not fear. My hook sinks true and my eye is opened in the desert moon. 

Wednesday, May 1, 2013

iDune and agents of balance.

Dune Fan art

My iThing is threatening to die on me and I believe it. I thought I had toasted it when I shattered the glass, nope, we got her all fixed up. Then for some weird out of the blue reason,  it decided to go iBad. What I really mean is that trying to get my phone to do anything requires you can break through a bunch of static gobbledy gook that is almost out of the Matrix. Well this afternoon it was not doing the gobbledy gook dance well and was not going to be responsive to anything I did. So,  I whacked it.  I had nothing to lose at that point. On the side of the house. Rather hard. Yes, that's right, I iWhacked my iThing and guess what? It's working just as badly as it was before, but I can still use it until I can replace it.


I am actually sort of preoccupied with a thought form as put forth in Dune about the impermanence of things and how by striving to create and maintain a flow of ever changing moments you inherit eternity. Ourobos has been a prominent symbol the last week. First, it was me rediscovering the tail devouring snake ring my son made for me in jewelry, then Hemlock Grove, This afternoon X-Files. She showed up again and again. I only have a vague idea right now of what She is persistently hinting at: Change is imminent and agents of balance are required.

OK agents of balance? I have no control or influence over that my dear Goddess. So I'll tell you what. How about I do what I can and make a few harlequin poppets?????

So how do we connect Ourobos with Dune??? Hrm. The Worm I guess. I suspect this next reading of Dune is going to be anything but mundane. I'll take notes. I might share.

If you want to tag along with the Dune witchy current I got brewing please let me know maybe we can chat. ;)

Wednesday, April 24, 2013

Happy insomnia and other random madnesses. . . you have been warned.

The brain needs time to recognize, grasp, and wrap around everything the eyes and other senses perceive. If the brain does not expect it, most likely it will be ignored as static information and cast it to the circular file in the back of the mind for more pertinent information, like the bus barreling around the corner at wicked, scary speeds through pot holes. If this is true, and I have had experiences and evidence that this is so, the why the fuck must we endure the insanity of the onslaughts of emotion before we understand what exactly it is we are feeling?? Why must everything be muddled like stirred up lake water? It's a train wreck waiting to happen really. It's amazing out brains just don't explode and ooze out of the holes in our heads. It doesn't matter what the emotion is, powerful ones always start the same with that tingle in the back of your jaw. It races around to the back of your head, chills the stomach,  and depending on circumstances, raises your hackles or buckles your knees. If your brain refuses to engage and deal, you may do both and have a moment of lights out.

So, what is it about the crashing of potent emotions that erases the memory banks temporarily of its understanding of what is being cooked up in their special brew in the dark spaces of our endocrine systems?? What triggers the endocrine system to fire off the appropriate emotional response cocktail if we ourselves have no conscious reference to the information our brain is trying to puzzle us through. Is it the unconscious mind acknowledging something it figured out before it surfaced to the forefront? It is a response to physical stimuli? Is it a psychic connection that we share will all things that live? Or is it something deeper and far more mysterious that happens when we are overtaken with that first intense wave?

Is it possible, that as we are in that first moment of emotional throws, we are not producing the chemicals as a response to emotional stimuli, but as a response to the spirit world part of ourselves. The part of ourselves that is connected and communicates directly with the Divine; the child within us that knows has poured her brew into our vessel and we are we responding to something that takes our brain a moment to understand?? Is it possible that these things we call emotions are deliberately triggered responses from our spirit selves being funneled down into the thick denseness of our being, finally, triggering a chemical response to cause the physical body to react in a specific manner in accordance to how our soul wishes to express itself. And after all this action is said and way past done, the mind goes to work to figure out whether to release a tear from the right side first as a sign of joy, the left as a sign of pain, or both would be a sign that you stepped on one of those accursed legos!

I asked these questions in light of the attacks by, what John Calhoun would have referred to as, probers. Probers in the experiments that Dr. Calhoun were conducting were the equivalents of our sexual predators, terrorists, the criminally violent, etc. What is different in these people? Do they start with a broken empathy chip or are their chips quickly degraded by the violence they witness? Would it be sort of like in Firefly with the Reavers? Anyone who survived an attack from these probers became just like them from sheer madness in the story. How close is that to the truth?

Is it possible that if you do not attend to the wounds of the soul, the spirit retreats and becomes more difficult to hear until the only thing left to hear are the raging imprecations of anger ringing in the skull? Mother Theresa was heard to have said that she suffered the silence of God. She was definitely not a prober. So, that can't be entirely right.

Maybe, it has more to do with which wolf you are feeding: the angry one or the loving one.

I can't ( and none else can) fix the prober issue or even the individual probers. That is something only one's self can do for one's self. If you are very lucky, you have people around you who diffuse your hot buttons quickly. I don't know which can first as far as the emotional tidal wave thing. It's sort of like the chicken and the egg thing. Divine trigger, chemical trigger . . . it's not really gonna matter when the chips are down. What will matter when the chips are down and skittering across the floor, is which wolf I have been feeding. Only I can prevent myself from becoming an enclosure time bomb and I may have a hand in keeping a few of those around me on this side of the prober tracks.

Ok, I am a big fat liar. I do have a best friend who will commit best-friendicide if I go over the tracks to the enclosure time bomb side.

It's in the contract, I promise.

This has been your late night random madness moment. Happy insomnia and good morning, good night and GOOD LORDS!!! WHY??! WHY is it this late . . . er ... early. . . er what ever.

See you in Odd!

Tuesday, April 16, 2013

Enclosure Lessons: buying time 101

Those of you who have been reading my blog for a bit know what it is I am about to say:


Yes, I said it. Enclosure has happened again. We knew it would. We are disenheartened that its frequency has shot through the gods' damned roof. I still have no real clue as to the why's and how's. I have avoided any graphic stuff like the plague. I am sure that over the next few days we will be inundated with factoids and finger pointing. Ugh. I am sure that you do not need me to point out once more hey look at the enclosure time bomb beware beware be. . . eh blah blah blah. I always talk about buying time. Buying time???? Yes time. There is not just one way to do that; there is a whole series of little things that can be done on an every day mundane level to help defuse and keep at bay the enclosure time bomb.

Part of the key here is NOT I totally had to edit this error I so missed to become an enclosure time bomb yourself. The one thing that keeps the insanity at bay with this phenomenon is simply understanding what it is you are looking at: a symptom of something much larger than a band aide can hold or heal. When people are no longer able to vote with their feet and become trapped, guess what??? They behave aggressively and bizarrely. I don't think any of us are surprised by that. What most of us don't remember off hand is that there is a solution to this. It's the same one employed by the people who came here to the New World. Well, it's not new anymore. Seems one of those gentlemen seriously overestimated his understanding of math. The other part of that key is to understand that you have the power to contribute to the solution in a positive manner regardless of your walking path.

With out any further ado I would like to present our first positive Enclosure lesson:

There are three people I would like to thank for today's Enclosure buying time lessons, I have found a whole new level of respect for you all:

1) Mr Rogers:

2) Patton Oswalt:

From his FB account:

"...So when you spot violence, or bigotry, or intolerance or fear or just garden-variety misogyny, hatred or ignorance, just look it in the eye and think, "The good outnumber you, and we always will."

you can read the whole thing at the link. 

3) The good people of the planet.

Keep calm and keep on!

Thank you.

Wednesday, April 10, 2013

Oddling poppet moment. . .

She whispered as she was having her hair put on. It was something I may have missed earlier if I did not know to listen. They all do it. They murmur, squeak, and intone. In Elphaba's case, she heaped imprecations upon the clouds and bigots. It was raining when I made her. This one sweetly murmurs in hushed mommy tones, encouraging her babies to scoot out into the sun to be seen in the light.

Each poppet I make brings a completely different experience to me. One thing that I find to be most fascinating is the difference between working on a poppet of my own thought designs versus working on a custom poppet for another person. While I am working on my own thought designs I choose freely and sometimes wildly from available resources to fit my mood and desire. The obvious part of working on a custom doll is that it's not my desire/need that needs filling in this case. The part that that grabbed me was the fact that I could use my trance training in a meaningful and effective manner.

This is not without some side effects I guess. You see every coin has two sides. The other side is that I pick up strays. They wander in unexpectedly, roam around the house, then leave me with my brow quirked up into my hairline in WTF???? position. Good thing it usually occurs when I can put things down and go do something else.  Or maybe it is the fact that I have put things down and have gone off to sweep the floor, is the reason these things happen. I am already pretty focused on that one person as I am making the poppet. Maybe this is just one more reason to make one poppet at a time.

Listening to my poppets come around to life, has taught me more about my about my craft than any book could have. Don't get me wrong, books are an excellent place to start and excellent to keep around as reference, but they are certainly not the end all, be all of magic in any way, shape, or form. Each part of the process gives me more experience as I practice. Each experience moves me further down the rabbit hole as I expand my lexicon of material familiarity. New ideas no longer worry me, they are just ideas and can be shifted. Granted there is always the strange occurrences on this path, but that's a very large part of the fun. Ok, sometimes later. After we survive ourselves.

There are two Witchy proverbs I like that apply to this Oddling Poppet Moment:

A library of books does not equal one good teacher.

Practice is better than a teacher.