PaganSquare.com - WitchesAndPagans.com

For many years, I’ve been doing ritual work in anticipation of a momentous turning point in our human society — the Great Turning that would decide the fate of our species and our planet home.  Life as we know it has been coming apart at the seams, with the turbulence and growing unrest in our political, economic and social systems, and the looming threat of global warming, driving us toward a moment of irrevocable change.

That moment has now arrived. The Great Turning is here, and it’s looking pretty ugly. The world has never been in more of a mess, with the worst of our humanity on full display. At the exact time we need to be getting our act together, we seem to be heading backwards on the crucial social justice, human rights, economic disparity and environmental issues that threaten to take us all down, and Mother Earth with us.

What comes to me as I dig deep into my magic to find my grounding and place in these chaotic, terrifying Great Turning times is a memory of a dark Samhain night, and a small circle of powerful companions gathered around the wild, fierce flames of a ritual bonfire.

In turns, we let the Mysteries speak through us. It’s the Dark Mother who comes to me, and this is what She says:

“This isn’t a time of despair, but of rejoicing. I don’t call for endings, but for new beginnings. And you don’t need to look further than your own self for the change this world desperately needs.

Don’t believe that you are worthless and made of base elements not deserving of redemption. Don’t believe that the hurts you carry are because of some flaw and distortion in your nature. These are lies that have been fed to you, to make you small, to make you weak, to turn you away from the beauty and gifts that shine so bright within the depths of your being.

For you are woven, like all of Creation, from the light and the dust of the stars. In your core rests a unique fragment of the star-bright Universe that is yours and yours alone. You were made to shine your light, brave, bold and brilliant, into the darkness.

No my children, now is not a time of despair, but of courage.

Step out of the shadows into the light of your own profound beauty. Shed the stories that make you so much less than who you truly are. Trust the path that I lay before you to find your way home to yourself, to love, to my life-giving ways.

Know that in healing yourself, you heal the world.

Shine. That is all I ask of you. Shine, as the brilliant, star-made creature that you are. Shine with your beauty, your presence, your love. Shine and the way forward will be made clear to a brighter, more loving and life-affirming future, with me and other waking ones by your side.

This is the moment; you are ripe, you are ready.”

I share this memory with you as a gift from the Dark Mother to us, Her waking children, in our time of transition and great need.

I offer these words as a magic medicine and transformative prayer that can wake you up to your true worth,  and place your feet firmly on a path of new beginnings.

I reach deep inside and deep outside of myself, from my shining to yours, knowing that together we can shift the tides of this Great Turning, and find a way forward to a better world.

Shine as you step into the star-bright being that you are.

Shine as you embrace and heal the shadowy, painful places inside of you.

Shine as you share your very best gifts with a hungry and waiting world.

Shine into the darkness of fear, greed, injustice and despair that plague our human society.

Shine with your presence, your voice, your actions, your love.

Shine as a beacon of light of what else is true and possible.

Shine, brave, bold and brilliant, and make our world anew.

Shine and we will light the way forward together.

The coven has a sweet (but deep) little Rite of Samhain planned for this Saturday night—down on an island at the confluence of the Minnesota and Mississippi Rivers, if you can stand it—but it's looking like I probably won't be there.

Why not? Possible Covid exposure.

I'll spare you the story. In the end, it all comes down to a bunch of old guys who, being Trumpers, don't take precautions on principle. It's hard to believe anyone could get to be so old and still be so stupid.

Oh well. Years back, back before I knew anyone, back when I was still a Pagan Alone, come Samhain I'd go down to the woods, light the fire, and make the magic.

And it was always the real thing.

This year, it looks like I'll be going back to my roots. That's always a type of renewal. Besides, no matter how well-covened you are—as gods know I am—we're always all solitaires first. "Thou mayest not be a witch alone"? Not so, say I.

Mayest not? In fact, thou must.

Come sunset, on the Eve of November, I'll climb down the cliff—just like I did when I was in high school—light the fire, and make the magic.

I closed my newly operated eye and looked at the TV screen through the one with the cataract. Then I closed that eye and reversed the process. I was amazed! The new eye saw a bright, sparkling image. The untouched eye saw a greyish greenish screen of dull colors. I had had no idea what I was missing before I had my first cataract operation. When something begins gradually, it is more difficult to notice. I had had the cataracts for some time before they were considered ready to be removed. I knew I needed more and more light to see by and had trouble distinguishing some colors, but thought nothing of it.

I'm a winter baby and I love the cold weather. I love the darker days. I love the longer nights snuggling under blankets and nesting in. This time of the year calls me deeper into my physicality. There is a cold that settles deep within my bones and it doesn't matter if I turn on the heat or put on my clothes because this experience is not a physiological occurrence. This is not because of the change in weather and the fact that I have arthritis.  No, it is much deeper than that. I have come to recognize with its persistent regularity at Samhain’s tide, that this is a form of preparation. 

It awakens a knowledge meant for me to find my place of Being that moves into the underworld and calls to the ancestors. The veils thin and a more palpably present space of transition opens between the living and the dead and the realization that all that remains for sometime after the flesh, the muscle and organs all fall away, the remnants that proof of a physical existence are only the bones.

In the dream, the coven has gathered, ready to begin the Rite of Samhain.

Night has fallen. Turning, I see deer on the hillside: first two, then more, then many.

We have visitors, I say.

We watch them watching us. The Deer People have come to witness our sabbat.

As we watch, one by one, the deer take human form.

Every Moonday I share a Soul Reading Video and Blog with the help of my hand painted oracle decks to guide you through the week ahead. This week there is a Full Moon on Saturday in conjunction with the Witches’ New Year: Samhain (or Halloween). This is a time when the veil between worlds is thin and we welcome in our ancestors and wise guides from the Other Side to share any messages they might have for us as we in turn honour them with gifts of food and drink, photos, memorabilia and memories, heartfelt and magickal.

Well, no wonder the US is going to Hel.

Did you know that there are more witches in the US (1.5 million) than Presbyterians (1.4 million)?

Did you know that pagans now constitute .4 percent of the American population?

No, neither did I, until a friend sent me a link to a conservative website called Christian Post.

Are these figures to be trusted? Who knows? (Me, I'd trust the Pew Research figures over the rest, but maybe that's just me.)

What astounds me most about the article is its supposed concern for all those poor, lost witch and pagan souls out there.

Considering the fact that the Evangelical electorate of America has already sold its own collective soul to a devil named D-nald Tr-mp in exchange for political power, it seems to me an arch-hypocrisy to be worrying about anyone else's.

Hey, nazzes: Maybe you should see to the log in your own eye before you start decrying other people's splinters.