Now we are diving deep into the cool waters of the West, into autumn’s light. The equinox is just around the corner, and the new moon of September passed. This year we will be blessed by a nearly full moon over the equinox, which is at 21:44 on Sunday, 22 September (where I live in the UK). The tipping point is near, the balance will shift, and we will enter into the fading times of restful thought, of dreaming in the dark....
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In my last post, I talked about opening up that big box of crayons to re-awaken the creative freedom of your childhood. The Sorrowful Magdalena is done entirely in crayon, completed in one session, sitting in my living room chair on a cold winter evening. I had no idea when I began sketching the oval for Her face, who would manifest on my paper, I was simply passing time, trying to distract my mind from my prevalent worries....
“The only magic we have is what we make in ourselves, the muscles we build up on the inside, the sense of belief we create from nothing.”
― Dorothy Allison
“Note to self: remember
What Emerson said
That he loved the low
And crickets, suckers
Songs of the carnal,
Songs of what we are.”
― Greg Orr, River Inside the River
I am majoring in Anthropology, and this semester I’m taking a couple of classes on Native American history and one on the anthropology of religion, which all go together rather nicely, and I’m having fun because it’s all right in my wheelhouse, as an animistic Pagan Hedge Witch and lover of culture, especially indigenous and ancient cultures....
Ten years ago I had the courage to attend my first Womongathering. Womongathering was a four day women’s spirituality festival in the woods of Pennsylvania. I had been reading about it since 2001 when I found the Womongathering newsletter at a local pagan store. It was a dark time in my life. I had nightmares almost every day, suffered from panic attacks and saw my therapist at least once a week. Some times I saw her more often, especially if I had a mental breakdown that week. Mental breakdowns consisted of me crying hysterically, afraid to leave my room, and could be brought on by almost anything. I desperately needed to go somewhere safe. I needed to find the strength to continue. I remember my now ex-husband dropping me off at the gate. I was terrified making my way into the festival without him. I was so afraid to be alone back then. All the women at the festival were so friendly, but I was too scared to notice.
I spent my first night at Womongathering curled up in my blankets, clinging to my teddy and crying. Here I was, twenty-five years old with my teddy bear as a lifeline. No one could have guessed that the bulky book bag I took with me everywhere wasn’t full of books-- it held my teddy bear. I was doing a lot of inner child work and dealing with the memories coming up because of it. So with my therapist’s approval I was at Womongathering looking for something to switch on inside me. I hoped that an event full of women honoring Goddess energy would give me the change I was looking for.