Old and New teacups with a dash of Crossed Keys

The sun is still clinging to the hemline of the horizon and it stretches thinner as if to taunt me by saying: not yet. .  . The wind has died down from its furious pacing across the yard and if all holds the way it is now, I may be able to set up out doors in the back to be under the moon light for Her Sacred Fires Rite tonight.

I have been reading the Crossed Keys by Michael Cecchetelli. I find it interesting in  he manner that he shares some of his personal experiences with the Black Dragon Grimoire. As I was reading the evocations, I began to wonder several things about the original author of that grimoire including if the person was a priest to begin with and, if not, was this person disguising the dialogue within a Christian frame in hopes of not appearing to be a heretic. I also began to wonder about the origin of these 'demons'. As it turns out the 'demons' may not be what we think they are. Even in King Solomon's day that which we know as angels were called demons. I suspect some of them are probably divinities from cultures long passed and have been labeled as demons for the simple reason of not bowing to Christian-dom. The more I read and re read what was presented to me, the more I began to think upon my own native divinities within Feri and why would I want to add to a roster of beings (as though they were something to collect) when I have perfectly good connections of my own to call upon. I don't. As much as respect the work and praxis of the magicians presented here in this book, I don't think it's my cup of tea. . . (where's my old cup anyway?)

I have started to delve into parts of my tradition I have not thought to sink into before and I have The Crossed Keys to thank for that. I already have a connection to Gods and Goddesses and have only chanted their names with little thought of really connecting to them and creating a working relationship with them. I have always been the one to remember to say please and thank you and even yes sir/ ma'am, but these particular divinities always seemed distant to me upon evocation for ritual. While reading the Crossed Keys, I felt pulled, hard toward them even as I was fascinated with the praxis in hand. So with that in mind, for the next twelve weeks I will be working with each one in turn to begin individual introductions and personal dialogue. I have a wealth of connections and I should be cultivating and nurturing those instead of creating new ones as working with the Black Dragon Grimoire would demand I do.

I begin with Ashtaroth. She is a Phoenician Goddess also associated with Inanna and Ishtar as being one and the same on just about every different site I visit. I also see many Christian sites who call her  a demon, but that wouldn't be any new thing from them. She is a love and war goddess. However, there is more to her than love and war. She is a teacher of the liberal sciences, she also seems to have an affinity for groves, trees, the woods. She has been called a stellar Goddess and a bringer of visions and prophetic dreams. I come from a tradition that values personal experiences so reading was not enough for me. I went and built an altar for her in the West, put out my gazing mirror and made offerings of perfumed oil, sourdough bread, and a liquor. I wrote her an evocation and called upon her in the afternoon after meditating upon her in the morning. I shouldn't have been shocked by actually making contact with her, but there was something in me that was. Maybe it's just the recent stresses of my mundane life speaking. My PTSD makes me believe all sorts of crazy things like: maybe I have been abandoned by my gods. It was a good beginning this rite. Is she Inanna and Astarte and Ishtar??? I don't know, maybe. What I do know, is that I did dream something that was not the usual of late and it didn't make me afraid.    

While I am looking for employment, I keep my little etsy shop going and keep busy with other things on top of trying to decipher legal speak. . . the law really should be something that is readily accessible AND easily understood by lay people, but it's not. So needless to say, I am turned upside down and twisted into pretzel knots trying to read it while trying to keep the panic attacks to a minimum which means more breaks than I really want. Still I over do it and some times end up in full blown anxiety attack mode. It's getting better though. With the acupuncture treatments counseling and some of the coping skills I have been acquiring, I am really seeing improvement from a few months ago. I still need to be reminded to take my homeopathic remedies because there are times when I don't catch the precursors myself.

I will be okay, eventually.

Well the wind is up again. I can hear it whip by my window. . . so the rite is indoors tonight. 

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:

Love
Honor
Order

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!


NEW EFFING CUP!

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.

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.

Tools:

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

*ground
* 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.

Blessings

Notes from the land of Odd

I have had my week break and now it's time to get back on the surf board and ride the incoming wave. And speaking of water, I have transitioned from the elemental guardian of Fire into Water realms, and you know that point in time while cooking rice you add water to a hot pan??? Well yeah. . . the transition from fire to water is sort of ( okay just like) that! The quench releases so much energy that it stirs up all the stuff and it all boils to the surface for you to handle ( before it handles you.) I was assured by the Gods ( okay a specific one in my pantheon) that this is just business as usual; nothing personal unless you want to throw a hissy fit about it. At which point, I just tried my hardest to not roll my eyeballs.

Speaking of rolling eyeballs. . .

. . . this whole silly season propaganda on parade has got me all sorts of rolly eyed. I hate rolling my eyeballs. I mean really??? You want to start trolling candidates from prepubescence now???? Way to discourage good people from running for office and trying to do something about all the "broken toys in the house." I feel like I joined some perverted version of the Mad Hatter's tea party. Can I just go back to my regular happy version of enjoying my insanity please? ( new tea cup please!) Besides, if I don't stop this reflexive eye roll soon, my eyeballs just may fall out of my head. Where's that sand bar? I need to go bury my head!

In other News. . .

Mr. Patchouli has had a bit of a rough ride this winter. You know, it's too cold outside and inside it's too dry! What's a plant to do over here in this crazy desert it's been potted in???? However Mr. Patchouli is tough little dude who seems to be enjoying the odds being beaten! I keep hearing Hugo Weaving's voice from the Matrix when I think about Mr. Patchouli. Don't have a reason or clue why yet, but I thought it was rather funny. You know the line: " Mr. Anderson. . . that is your name?" I am hoping that in the next season he sets into his pot well and goes bazongas!

Crazy news. . .

So I have been having crazy dreams where the Gods and other Feri people sort of drop in for a visit while my Oath Mother's voice pipes in Obiwan- like about the situation and the Gods start having open dialogue about  my life in minutia. . . 0.o Most of the conversation is sane enough. . . okay about as sane as Feri gets. . . but some of the events/ conversations makes the Mad Hatter seem rather well adjusted. I guess that means I am officially Feri Mad.

So speaking of Madnesses. . .

Anyone with children make sure you tell your little ones that if someone shoots you, don't go back when they are called. Thank you Crazy woman in Florida for putting that on my docket of weird madnesses to remind my kids of: " now children, if I go off my rocker and shoot you, don't come back when I call you back home. I will kill you."  

????

Ok you know what? I think I'll just stick to my Mad Hatter Tea Party. At least there, the only thing in danger is the tea cup.

New cup!