(Last post I ended with: And I think we’ll start the next entry with more about Baba Yaga. Unless something messy happens…)
Like the superbowl!!! WTF??? How can I be a witch, and a feminist and also care about football with my actual feelings and want the heavens to open, to pour down all the tears of humanity because for some reason the Seahawks decided to pass instead of run?? One yard? With Marshawn Lynch in the house??
All of Seattle was depressed yesterday. I asked the guy at the grocery store how he was. “Sad,” he said. So said also my dental hygienist, the grocery bagger, the lady who came to ticket my garbage can ( long story). This is big. I mean, we are all depressed here this time of year, but we don’t admit it. To admit this is to risk being asked where you are from, with a clear suspicion that the answer is “California.” I found comfort in company. I listened to ESPN sports radio all morning, where the men were dealing with their feelings by mansplaining how they would have done it better.
But it was Imbolc, the halfway point between the winter solstice and the spring equinox, one of the eight pagan Sabbaths. Plus almost a full moon!! That night, I would be celebrating with my witchy circle and we were going to invite the Goddess Brigid because this holiday is Hers. Brigid is one of my main Gals – it’s okay to call a Goddess that if I Capitalize It. I met Her at my very first witchcamp in Missouri in 1997, though for a long time I was more scared of Her than glad to have Her along for the ride. She’s an Irish Goddess, rules Poetry and Smithcraft and is prone to forging. She may have been working with Nietzche when he said “That which doesn’t kill me only makes me stronger.” (And possibly Kanye West, which is who Google attributes that quote to.) When I left progressive politics involuntarily for the first time in 2005 because of a self-inflicted ruptured disc, I blamed it on Brigid. “She broke my spine to make me stronger,” I whined.
I don’t think that way anymore, or worship that way. The victim route is not for me. Believing in Goddesses doesn’t mean that I am a powerless worm at the mercy of giant forces! And anyway, worms are like, the most powerful force there is! My son has a new game called “Into the Forest,” wherein you get to play out the web of life in a red-in-tooth-and-claw kind of a way. The most powerful card is Death and Decay. But what card beats that???? Worms does.
Anyway. Not a victim here. Even though I am a Seahawks fan.
So, yesterday was Imbolc, tonight is the full moon and it is a good time for a new beginning, for setting a goal. A little one that can lead to bigger things, one that packs a life-force punch, the way a little seed does. Did you know seeds breathe? True story. Now is a good time for a little goal that breathes. And here’s mine. I have been working on these books for soo long and not finishing that I feel like my mouth is sewn shut. Being a political communications professional didn’t help. There are so many “Don’ts” in politics – don’t mention sex, don’t mention drugs, don’t joke, don’t mention any faith but the big C. Plus the woman don’ts: don’t mention sex (squared), pretend mothering is always rainbows and unicorms… I spelled that wrong on purpose. What if we crossed unicorns and worms? How powerful would that be?
So here’s my breathing seed: I will write something on this blog, Something!! about this journey from wife to witch and whatever comes next, every day for the next six months. Until Lammas, August 2, the first harvest holiday. (with a break for the time I’m out of range and teaching at California Witch Camp).
So mote it be. (That’s what witches say instead of ‘Amen’)
It’s Imbolc!! Tonight's the full moon!! We are halfway back on our journey from the underworld!! Persephone is lighting Her candle and beginning to ascend, Brigid is stoking Her forge with bright words written in glowing flame. What’s your little, breathing goal? Tell someone… tell me!! Or write it on a slip of paper, whisper it to the moon, burn the paper over a bowl you cup in one hand. Tomorrow (or the next day, or the next, if you are a mom, or a human who is busy, trying to live in this crazy world) you can carry the ashes to a place of living water and let them go. Try it. It feels like something happens.