Lions and Tigers and Bears

I remember the day I first heard the term 'animal totem.' The picture which formed in my (admittedly odd) head was of a wooden pole with animal faces carved into it's chocolate brown surface. I had no idea what the gal I was listening to was talking about. But I nodded and smiled, while secretly thinking I was either a) high on mushrooms or b) magickally transported to The Wizard of Oz....oh my!

I immediately got on-line and discovered that totem animals are spirit guides which walk with us through our lives...guiding us, teaching us, and protecting us.

"Okay," I thought to myself. "That makes sense and is actually quite cool. I'm going to meditate right now and see if an animal comes to me because I really want to start working with my totem."

Nothing.

Not a darn thing came to me.

Over the next few weeks, I continued to meditate almost daily...with the same lack of results. Apparently I'm a hopeless soul, because I don't think any animals like me. Indeed, to this day, I still haven't found my animal totems. It's confusing to me because my patron God and Goddess came to me almost instantly upon meditating.

Am I missing something? Are these animals appearing to me and I'm just not recognizing their significance? I will say this...around the same time I first leaned about animal totems, a family of robins decided to make a nest on my front porch. We were very privileged to watch these birds build their nest, lay their eggs, hatch them, and feed their babies. We even watched as the babies grew from ugly, hairless little creatures which are nothing but beak...right up to the moment they each took flight for the first time. It was one of Mother Nature's many miracles.

Perhaps the robin is one of my totem animals?

Honestly, peeps, I just don't know. Can you help a witchy sister out?

How did you find your animal totem?
After you found it/them, how did you know it was the correct guide?
What types of things do you do with your totem?
Have they been helpful to you?
How many do you have?

Any information or advice you could give me would be greatly appreciated! :)

Tools of the Trade

While this is meant to be a blog where my Soul Sista and I ponder the Big Questions surrounding Paganism (and encourage others to discuss those Big Questions so we can all try to figure out What The Heck It Is We're Doing), I thought it also might be interesting to have a "show and tell" day. Then I started worrying that maybe people would get all wigged out about other people seeing their sacred objects. But lots of people show off their altars, I thought. Then I dithered around for a few days and before I knew it, crickets started chirping around the corners of the new blog.

So. I'm going to do the show and tell, y'all. You don't have to show OR tell any of your tools or objects...I'll still love you. BUT, if you would like to share, feel free to post the pics on your blog or give us a link to a Flickr-type account OR just describe them. We're easy like Sunday morning around here.

Ahem.

First off, this is where I keep my mojo-making "stuff." I worry periodically that it isn't in the most sacred of spots, but in reality, it's out of the way enough that I don't have to worry about somebody not in the know opening the cabinet and freaking out. Plus, to be frank, it's the only wodge of cabinet space not filled up with day to day living stuff. Although I keep a lot of my tools here, I don't use most of them in the same place. When I make a charm, I sit at the dining room table where my sewing machine is. When I read Tarot, I usually hole up in the library. When I light candles, I sit them on whatever horizontal space is nearest me and whatever work I'm doing at the time. (Ooof at all the power cords...in my next house, I'm setting up a better Workspace.)


The microwave generally doesn't serve any Pagany purpose, although I have been known to dry some herbs in there. The little wooden shelf on the other hand...


was made for me by my father many years ago from old barn wood and is Very Important. It holds the Big Guys, although they look very small. The acorns were gathered by Jeffrey a couple of years ago. They represent--at varying times--my immediate family, my brothers, my children, or any children I know. The little black stone next to them is my Mother stone and is probably my most important talisman. It's a flint nodule, found on my family land, shaped like an egg. I carry it when traveling or when stressed and in need of a lift and I NEVER work a charm or read the cards without it nearby. The stone next to my Mother stone is one brought to me by a friend from Maine. It looks like a mini-mountain and I use it to represent friends, particularly those far away from me. The last stone is a quartz crystal. It has a very male energy, so I use it when working charms for male friemily or for anything to do with Will.

The ivory handled knife on the lower shelf is the one I use for my house Work. I use it in the garden and when puttering around Magically. The folded papers are notes from Will and my daddy.

Inside the cabinet is a jumble of craziness. On the left side, we have

from left: my essential oils, glycerin, Dr. Bronner's lavender soap, and almond oil. I use these in everything from charms to cleaning to skin care messes. Behind the glycerin is a jar filled with the embroidery thread I use in charms. Borax (for cleaning and lotions) is next, with a bag of calendula flowers on top. The small jar holds "leftovers" from charms, candle-lightings, etc. I generally throw these on the firepit every new moon. (Although I missed the last one. Sigh.)

On the right hand side, you'll find

(again, from left):
A small glass jar of rose geranium leaves, a larger glass jar with my Pagany scissors, slips of paper for charms and my charm template, my tall Moon candle holder (used for Major Mojo Events), the stone mortar from Will's family farm, a bag of errant crystals, a jar of small candles for my dove holder, my books (holding my big bag o' stones), a small jar filled with stones that have special meaning for me, and my mortar and pestle (last used to crush up some baking soda that had gotten wet.)

I was actually lighting a candle for my Soul Sista when I took these pictures, so the dove holder isn't in its usually resting place, which is the mortar. Here she is:

Aww, I luff her. I use her for sending out vibes to my peeps far away.


There ya go. Now, these aren't all of my tools. Pretty much anything in my house can (and will) be thrown into use if necessary. But these are the basics, the things I turn to when I really need to focus some Energy.

Your turn!

Extraordinary

I'm not sure my husband believes me.

In fact, I'm quite convinced he's one step away from having me committed to a loony bin. However, in honor of the way over-commercialized Valentine's Day, he's willing to overlook my peculiarities.

For today at least.

He probably thinks he'll get nookie out of the deal.

He might be right.

My husband considers himself agnostic. He's not a religious man. And while he doesn't mind in the least that I'm a practicing Pagan, he's not at all interested in hearing or learning about this spiritual path himself.

That doesn't stop me from telling him everything, of course. And what happened last week was no exception. It was too extraordinary not to tell him.

Yes, dear readers, last week something truly magickal happened to me. I say it 'happened' to me, because it wasn't my magick. It was the healing magick of a friend of mine...one of the few local Pagans I've been able to find.

I was having a rough week. A very rough week, physically. Not only did I have a tooth needing a root canal which ached and throbbed incessantly, I was also suffering from severe menstrual cramps AND a stomach virus. A stomach virus which kept me stuck in a bathroom for the better part of the day and brought to me excruciating stomach cramps. Indeed, my entire abdomen felt like some Celtic individual had come along and tied it in knots.

I don't think I need to tell you, but I will anyway....I. Was. Miserable.

When I saw my Pagan friend had signed on Facebook, I messaged her asking if she could possibly light a healing candle and send me some healing energies. Like me, T is a nurse. Healing is second nature to her. And I'll be the first person to say...she is simply a lovely person with a lovely soul. I adore her.

Anyway, T agreed to help me out and about twenty minutes later, she messaged me back and told me I needed to go to my front door to breath in the golden ball of healing energy she'd visualized arriving there. She told me she'd meditated and gathered energy from the woods surrounding her home...from the trees, the icy cold ground, and the snow. She told me she envisioned a golden ball, which confused her...she usually thinks of blue as a healing color,...but for some reason, her ball was golden. She envisioned it crossing the bridge between our homes and coming down the road to my house.

I walked to the front door and opened it to the freezing arctic air.

The snow on my sidewalk was sparkling gold.

"Okay," I thought to myself, "the sun's rays must be shining right on this area of the sidewalk." But when I looked up, there was nothing to see but some ominous gray clouds moving quickly across the frigid February sky.

I closed my eyes for several seconds and opened them again.

The snow was still sparkling gold.

And it was beautiful.

I breathed in deeply with a smile on my face. I knew...I just knew this was going to work. I thanked the Goddess for helping T help me. I thanked the elements for making sure my golden healing ball arrived safely and intact on my front door, then I quietly went back inside.

There was another message from T on my laptop. Here is the gist of what it said:

"By the way, Bridgett, you might feel the need to turn Wow Wow Wubzy on your TV. Having four children in the house, there is always something on the TV, so I've learned to incorporate that into my meditations. I envisioned the two of us talking about how much our kids like that show to help me get in tune with you."

My daughter had come downstairs about ten minutes prior to me receiving that message. Even though she'd been laughing and giggling while playing with her big brother upstairs just moments before, and asked to watch Wow Wow Wubzy. Lo and behold, it was playing on our TV as I read T's note.

Here's the kicker...Wow Wow Wubzy usually isn't on the Nickelodeon programming in our area until 2 PM. It was 10 AM. There is no way Autumn could have known that show was on the television at that moment.

And you know what else? As I was pondering the significance of the sparkling golden snow and the cartoon...my entire abdomen relaxed. For the first time in over twelve hours, not a single part of me ached or throbbed. My body was completely relaxed. Had it only been one ache which stopped, I would have gladly written it off as a coincidence. But all three of my ailments stopped at once...the tooth stopped throbbing and my entire abdomen was calm. I actually felt sleepy because I knew I finally COULD sleep now. I wasn't in pain anymore.

That night, I was able to eat a normal dinner without a single repercussion. I don't know about all of you, but I've never been able to do that following a stomach virus. I have to be on a bland diet for a few days following anything viral. I also haven't needed a heating pad or any medication for my menstrual cramping. Not once.

And finally...remember the annoying tooth (which is scheduled for a root canal on Wednesday)? The pain didn't stop completely, but it went from an excruciating, stabbing pain throughout my cheek and jaw, to an occasional dull throbbing in my gums. It's an absolutely tolerable pain now. I've barely needed any pain medication for it either...for days. Prior, I'd been taking ibuprofen every six hours around the clock.

Do I believe this was magick? Yes, I do. T and I believed this would work...and it did.

The one thing I have managed to learn on this wonderous, confusing journey...magick is all about believing. And let me tell you something else, my friends..................I believe.

Do You Believe in Magic?

The other day while riding from school, Jeffrey and River got into a conversation that went something like this:

River: My unicorn is magic.
Jeffrey: No, it isn't.
River: Yes, it is.
Jeffrey: No. It really isn't.
River: You stuuuuppppidddd. (Sigh. Thought I was avoiding all this with the five-year age gap. Not so much.)

At that point in time, I jumped in and told Jeffrey that it wasn't up to him to decide what was magic or not and also that he shouldn't dictate how others see the magic around them. (I know. It was pretty deep, even for me.) Then Jeffrey, seeing that I was NOT happy with him for squashing River's fantasy, launched into a story that sort of freaked me out and made me smile at the same time.

In his story, Mike Tyson (his stuffed dinosaur dragon he has had since infancy; named after the boxer because Jeffrey chewed its ears when he was little...so technically, it should be Evander Holyfield, but whatevs) walked. And danced. And bounced down the hall. Jeffrey was absolutely certain that this phenomenon had actually happened--and that it was magical. River, suddenly becoming pragmatic, mentioned that she had never seen Uni walk or dance. After a little suggestion from me, Jeffrey came up with the theory that in order for Uni to be magic, he had to soak up a little more of River's "feelings."

Wow. Talk about a connected kid, hunh? Pretty much in ten minutes, he not only allowed me to articulate a major tenet of my faith, but he also laid it out in simple terms for his three-year-old sister:

1. Magic is subjective and no one can tell you what is magic and what isn't.
2. Magic needs to really know you to be used by you.

The only trouble is...I'm not sure I believe that.

I have a hard time with the concept of "magic." Or should I say "magick?" Is there a difference? On the one hand, I've seen some crazy, spooky, weird, wondrous things that make me question a lot about what most of us think about reality.

But is that magic? Is magic something that can be worked? Or does it just exist?

When I read Tarot, even when the results are so uncannily spot on that I have to walk away, I'm not sure that it's magic. I think...maybe it's just perception and that the traditional beliefs associated with the cards make me look at a situation differently.

And when I make charms, I definitely make a ceremony out of it. I chose items for the charms very carefully. I weigh my words and ingredients with an eye to the person I'm making the charm for and the folklore attached to the various herbs and stones. But...is that "making magic?"

When I'm feeling down and I pull a little energy out of the earth to boost myself, is that magic?

It seems, both from a Pagan and a non-Pagan perspective, that there are two different versions of magic floating around. There's the basic kind: the moon, the sun, the seasons, the elements. Then there's the woowoo kind with its bells and whistles and cauldrons and wafers and whatnot.

I think what I'm coming to believe is that the basic kind is something that all people recognize and that the woowoo kind is just the way folks align themselves with the basic. Pagans call it magic, other faiths have different names for it.

Is it all the same magic?

Is it even real?

Tonight, when I mentioned the story to Will, he told me that he had had a little bit to do with Mike's bouncing and dancing. I have to admit, I was disappointed. I mean, it's one thing to know a stuffed dinosaur dragon can't bounce down the hall. It's another thing to KNOW it.

Of course, I won't tell Jeffrey any of this. For him, Mike Tyson is magic. And maybe...maybe THAT'S what makes magic real. It isn't the fact of it.

It's the belief.

Straddling the Broom Closet

I'm upset.

Admittedly, I'm not completely out of the broom closet. While I don't hide who I am, I don't broadcast my path with a neon sign above my door either...especially with my incredibly conservative, fundamentalist Christian family. However, all who read my personal blog know I'm very open there, which puts the bulk of my friends (and some of my family), 'in the know' about my spiritual path.

Thus far, everybody has been very accepting. Sure, I've received some questions...but they were asked with general curiosity and not as a harbinger of hate.

That is, until yesterday.

A person who knows me quite well, in real life, called our home and told my husband she was 'afraid of me because I was practicing witchcraft.' This person said that after reading my blog, she worried about me participating in 'black magick.'

ARE YOU KIDDING ME???

These statements are insulting on so many levels, I'm nearly beyond words. Even worse, this is the second time this person has called making accusations and checking up on me!

First...anybody who knows me knows I'm loyal to a fault, mellow, friendly, always laughing, and a generally upbeat, optimistic person.

Second, they also know I'm a completely dedicated mother and would NEVER in a billion years do anything which would put my children at risk or expose them to the dark side of life.

Finally, I lived with the person who made these statements for almost six months. So for her to call my husband and completely dis the moral and ethical person I am, simply because I choose not to follow the Christian faith, well, not only is it unacceptable...it's judgemental and pathetic.

But here's the thing I really don't understand. If it were me and I discovered somebody in my life was a practicing Pagan...would I immediately assume this person worshipped Satan and tried to kill people? NO. Of course not. Because I'm smart enough to realize that a Hollywood stereotype is not even remotely based on reality.

I would start by hitting up Google and educating myself. If I still didn't have a clear picture, I would buy a book or two and research a little more. There is no reason, in this technological day and age, that people have to remain ignorant and biased about any topic.

It would take a whole whopping five minutes to type the words Paganism or Wicca into a browser and get some basic information regarding the craft. And what I would find during my search is this: a practicing Pagan is a polytheistic 'country-dweller.' A person who believes in both the God and Goddess aspect of deity. A person whose religion is nature-based and seasonal. A person who feels the divine when the wind blows through her hair, the sun beats on her golden skin, or her hands are buried deep in the Earth's soil, planting and growing seedlings. A person who teaches her children to respect our Mother Earth and the herbs, flowers, trees, stones, and nourishment which come from her.

What I would not find is a description of a person who hexes people, makes human sacrifices, or worships Satan. Indeed, Pagans don't believe in Hell or Satan. Hell, and all it involves, are Christian concepts which I'll happily let them keep for themselves. Religions which fear-monger are not my cup of tea.

So let me ask you, how do you handle these situations? Do they offend you? I'll admit, I probably wouldn't be nearly as offended by this situation if this person had come directly to me instead of asking my husband how just how dangerous I was to my children. Ya know?

When folks ask you about your faith and how it differs from Christianity, what basic information do you give them? As a newbie Pagan, this is something that happens to me a great deal and it's something I struggle to get just right.

I'll end this post by saying this...in my experience, Pagans (and I'm using that as an umbrella term), are the kindest, most gentle, non-judgmental, and environmentally 'green' people I've ever had the pleasure to know. So not only am I insulted by this person's callousness for myself, I'm also insulted for all of you.

I apologize for my rant.

Paper or Plastic? (Or Stone. Or Ceramic...)

In my quest to figure out which of the bajillion Pagan paths I should be following, I read a lot of books. And websites. And pamphlets at herb shops. Occasionally, I stop random people on the street and say, "Hey, do you think an athame is REALLY necessary?" (No, not really. That would not go over so well around these parts.)

One book I've been digging into lately is The Way of the Green Witch by Arin Murphy-Hiscock. I'm liking it pretty well, although I find it sometimes conflicted: on one page, green witches don't align themselves with particular deities and several pages later, I'm supposed to offer up a chant to the "Lord and Lady." Um, what? What Lord and Lady are we talking about here?

Another thing that's bugging me about the book (and to be fair, there's a lot of good, practical stuff in here) is the long list of tools that a green witch MUST have and the materials out of which said tools must be made. The tools must be sacred to witchy work and must be made out of organic materials.

Here's the deal, Phil: First, I'm a busy mom. A busy mom on a budget. So, frankly, I don't always have the time or money to do things like, say, make a broom to purify my house with. I'm not trying to be flippant when I say this. I understand the importance of keeping the drifts of bad energy out of the corners and try to do it every new Moon, but the truth is that if I realize it's the new Moon and I've got fifteen minutes before I have to pick up Jeffrey and River's running around with her panties on her head, I'm going to grab whatever cleaning product is nearest to get rid of the baddies. If I had my druthers, I'd be sweeping with rosemary branches lashed to an oak branch. But if not, I'm gonna overlook the cat hairs and dried cheerios hanging on my kitchen broom and sweep those suckers out.

Now, I can understand the need for organic or non-commercial type stuff for some things. When I first started on this path, I had a few basic tools: a candle holder with a moon on it, a few candles, and a deck of Tarot cards. When I mixed oils or herbs for a charm or prayer, I did it on one of the Corningware plates somebody gave me as a wedding present: handy when meat needs to be defrosted, awkward when used to ask for my family's safe travel. I realized that a clear glass plate would feel less...jangly on my nerves than the country-blue flowers. I've bought a few things along the way that feel more sacred to me: a small dove candle holder, a stone mortar and pestle. But many of my tools are found: an extra pair of scissors Will brought home from work, the embroidery thread my aunt never used that she gifted to me, an ancient stone mortar found on Will's ancestral farm, a flint nodule from my own family land. And while I hope to use more glass jars and sew pouches for them in the future, a lot of my supplies--from my embroidery thread to my gems to my essential oils--are stowed in plastic ziploc bags or leftover deli meat containers. It doesn't necessarily look very decorous or sacred, but it's what I've got right now.

On a similar note, Dani over at Magickal Mommy recently asked her readers their opinion on whether it was okay to use plastic in ritual magic work. A friend had nixed the idea. But Dani has an attachment to dolls and miniatures and does some pretty cool stuff working with them. It makes sense that she'd want to use dolls or miniatures in her rituals, no matter what they were made out of.

And to come right down to it, plastic isn't created from alien space particles. Bad as it is in the landfills, it comes from the earth at the beginning, right? There are a billion steps in between the oil coming out of the earth and the fashion doll with the preposterous body parts, but still...

What do y'all think? Do you have rules for your tools? Do you practice "in a pinch" magic or do you go "by the book?" Paper or plastic, people--what would you choose?

It's a true story...

The air was cold creeping through the slight gap in the sliding glass door, opened to air out all the smoke a young, new-to-the-craft Pagan was stirring up with her cauldron. She didn't have green skin, there wasn't a wart at the end of her nose, and she certainly didn't worship Satan...a cliche most of the really ignorant world seemed to believe. She was simply a mom who'd finally found her place in the spiritual world and was doing her best to respect and honor that path.

Unfortunately, being a solitary in the Bible Belt, she was having a hard time finding her place in the Pagan world. A hard time finding answers. A hard time knowing what she'd done correctly thus far and what she'd completely messed up.

She was celebrating her first Imbolc on that frigid winter night, using a makeshift altar she'd made by throwing a soft yellow piece of fabric over a plastic tote. The lid wasn't even and everything looked lopsided...but it was the best she could come up with.

"Seriously, does this altar even look right? Do I have the wine glass chalice on the correct side? And why, when this sabbat celebrates the coming of spring, am I freezing my squishy bubble butt off because of this crack of opened door?" she thought to herself.

Even lighting the candles on her altar brought up questions. "Oh no. I didn't use a wooden match. I don't even have a wooden match. Just great. I hope the Goddess likes plastic lighters just as well."

...and then a few seconds later....

"I hope this incense smells sweet enough. The spell calls for 'sweet smelling' incense."

...and then a few seconds after that....

"Oh crap...I memorized how to cast a circle and now I've completely forgotten. Hmmm....do you think it would work if I said, 'Hey, element of air...join me, won't you?' "

So there she sat, a Dyson vacuum behind her, a pink Super Girl robe on one side, a Nintendo DS on the other, and a plastic altar before her...frantically booting up her laptop to get the information she needed to properly cast a circle.

After the circle was cast, the incense and candles lit, the ritual completed, and the cake and ale portion of the ceremony brought to a close, her 'how to' paper instructed her to raise her hands to the air and say a specific grouping of words.

"Wow," she thought, "the back door is open. I live in a townhouse and have neighbors on every side of me. They're going to think I'm nuts."

Instead, she talked in a normal voice, raised her hands only halfway up, and then felt she'd let Brighid down. Yet somewhere deep inside, she felt giddy about what had been her best ritual to date. (Oh yes, that was the best. I'm sure you don't even want to imagine the worst.) She ran outside with her offerings to Brighid clutched in her icy hands...some skim milk (because every Goddess needs a trim figure), and a slice of bread. Under the brisk night sky, the stars peeking down from their celestial home, she felt a rush of adrenaline. Of love. Of coming home. She giggled out loud as she ripped the bread into tiny pieces and threw them into the yard as hard as she could, jumping up and down and letting the spirit fill her from head to toe.

Hey, she might be a lousy witch at this point in her path, but at least she was a HAPPY, lousy witch.

Happy Imbolc...er...Something

Today is the day that Celtic-minded folks traditionally celebrate Imbolc as the breaking of Winter's cold and the beginning of Spring's warmth.

Um. This is the view out my back door:


Now, I'm not sure if you can tell, but it's not exactly warm and Springy outside. It's damp and cold and windy and pretty bleak. It's warmer than last year, though.

Last year, I dragged the hubs and the kidlets out to the fire pit, where we wrote down any hurts we'd felt through the year on scraps of paper and tossed them onto the fire Will was happy to make against the frigid cold. It was cold last Imbolc--and I'm talking brutal, make-the-babies-cry COLD. I sat there, the kids huddled against me, the quilt wrapped around us doing pretty much nothing and I thought, "What the hell am I doing?"

I was struck by the realization that this was much the same thought I had when I was part of a Baptist church and I was listening to the preacher rail against cigarettes when I had a pack of Marlboros in my purse. And the faith I'm practicing now is a much better fit than the one I used to. Oh, dear.

I'm a Pagan. Of that, I'm sure because I'm not a Christian or a Muslim or a Buddhist (although to be honest, my personal faith dips freely into all of these.) What I'm not so sure of is what particular type of Pagan I am. I'm not Wiccan, but I find a lot of the tenets of that religion make sense. I call myself a Green Witch, but I have issues with deep stretches of forest, so that trips me up sometimes. I love to cook and bake and welcome folks into my home as a way of showing them I love them, so sometimes, I identify as a Kitchen Witch. I feel a profound draw toward the study of herbs and plants, so maybe I'm a Wise Woman. Native American beliefs about spirits in Nature? Check.

Sigh.

It's all very confusing sometimes and I wish that I could find a way to sort it all out in my head. Which is where Divining Women comes in. It turns out that I'm not the only Pagan wallowing in confusion questioning bits of my Faith. My soul sister, Bridgett, recently opened up on her blog about her feelings about her path and it just RESONATED with me.

So many times when I'm trying out a ritual or spell or whathaveyou, instead of feeling spiritually grounded, I feel...like a dork. I feel exactly the same way I did when I joined that Baptist church all those years ago and I don't want to feel that way.

It helped reading the comments on her post and realizing that others had the same issues with the same constraints. Inspired, I asked Bridgett if she'd join me in working on this blog, because I really feel like having conversations about this stuff forces us to examine our beliefs, think about alternatives, and gives us a greater sense of community.

It makes sense that we start this blog on Imbolc. Because in addition to all of the Winter's End mess, Imbolc is also the day we honor Brigid, a goddess of poetry, inspiration, healing, and the home. Brigid is "my" goddess, an aspect of the Great Mother that I most identify with. (She even found her way into my first novel.) My hope for this blog is that folks will find inspiration here, a home full of warmth.

My fear is that you'll find two chicks losing their minds over cauldrons and contradictory guidelines for casting a circle instead.

Either way, welcome and blessed be.