Culture Blogs


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Culture Blogs

Popular subjects in contemporary Pagan culture and practice.

Category contains 2 blog entries contributed to teamblogs

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Teach Us Those Runes

 Geriht us þat geruni.

“Teach us those runes.”

(Old Saxon Heliand, circa 850)

 

Writing is a magical act.

The old North Sea ancestors had two words meaning “write.”

One was to scribe. That meant “to write with pen and ink,” as the Romans did. This was the newfangled way to write, with a newfangled Latin name.

But the old word, the ancestral word, was to write. This originally meant “to carve.” The first writing that the ancestors knew was the carving ("risting") of runes into wood.

Note which method they favored.

In our hyper-literate society, in which most of us write with light rather than with ink or with lead, we tend to take writing for granted.

We shouldn't.

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ARTEMIS or CANDLE CRYSTAL - REVISIT

We're going to revisit all the quartz types, using some drawings from my Crystal Mandala books(in which I have drawn a mandala of each type of crystal, condensing the information to 4 to 5 items to make remembering easier).

artemis or candle crystal

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Potential

My daughter and I were driving through rural Wisconsin.  She was complaining about the blandness of the landscape. I said I see the potential. Spring is a Time when you can look out a crossed everything a field your life and it's a blank slate it's a blank canvas that you can decide what it will be as used take a step forward throughout the year.

What will you paint on your Kansas this year.  There is a myriad of options ultimately it's about what you want to harvest at the end of the year.

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Posted by on in Culture Blogs
Take the Second Bath
It's been a non stop swirl of work and social obligations since the holidaze as we slowly plummet into tax season.  You can imagine my excitement when I would finally have a moment to relax with MamaFran after a weekend of cemetery jaunts because that's just how we do in my family.  Instead I found myself in a panicky headspace in an overly crowded hotel down in Atlantic City.  

We were going from Sunday into Monday and usually that was a promise of light foot traffic and just enough people to make people watching interesting.  I've also been reading Gillian Flynn's books non stop which probably (definitely) wasn't helping any of this.  On an up side to that, if you want to feel fantastic about your relationship, your part in it and your partner(s)' part in it, I cannot recommend reading Gone Girl enough.  The movie is a pale shadow comparatively.  

So, I'm processing the fact that I have to go two hours (without traffic) each way, two completely separate ways to visit my dead people which is hella depressing because it's hard to be in the car that long for a cold trip to the cemetery.  I mean, I got pizza, I got incredibly expensive food from the Italian market, April and I relived our teen lives together by getting lattes and bath bombs and sitting at the food court dishes,  but it was a lot that would be topped off with a fun visit the next day to the military cemetery where my dad is buried.  We used to visit my grandparents' grave when we would visit my uncle but now he's in the ground with them and my grief in the loss of him continues to be overwhelming.  
 
So, obviously, let's drink and gamble.  Because . . .really . . .what else can do you anyway?  I got myself on the list for the club and then promptly got too overwhelmed to go.  I tried to go to my usual haunts there to start writing again, a horse that continues to trample me post-book but they were too crowded, too much for me to manage.  I went back up to our room dejectedly and did a little work and then decided to start a bath in the cave-like tub in the suite.  I did my usual thing I do at home for my glamour bath rites, I put on music and . . .I couldn't f*cking calm down.  And the more I got into an anxiety spiral about it, the crazier I felt.  Who the f*ck freaks out about taking the bath she's been dying to take?  Who!  Who!  Me, apparently.  So . . .then I dropped my phone in the bath. Sh!  Don't tell Jow.  Because his phone randomly stopped working earlier that day and I was yelling at him like a damn fishwife that he better not buy an iPhone 7 which is obviously why I needed to bring some Bewitched bullshit to the party.  I'm hissing, Nonononononono!  F*ck, f*ck, f*ck.  Please work.  Please.  Work.  I jump out of the bath and towel it off.  Obviously, I don't have dry rice because I'm in a freaking hotel.  Luckily, it's been fine since which is why this is how I'm choosing share this with Jow.  People live with secrets all the time/ You've got yours/ I've got mine!   By now I'm shaking like a tiny dog.  I drain the tub.  
I don't know what to do.  
 
Oh.  Yeah.  To celebrate writing again (a start is a start!), I had a double espresso and a french macaroon.  Which helped kick off said panic attack because I was not as good at sugar/caffeine as I thought I was.
 
I go to dinner with my mom where we were surrounded by drunk boys and a long wait.  It's only afterwards when we go for a drink at my favorite place do I actually start to relax and have a good time.  I crap out fast at the craps table (my old tricks don't work like they used to) but get it back on a Wonder Woman slot machine which cheers me.  
 
I read more Gillian Flynn and consider.  Should I take another bath?  My mom would kill me if she knew, it's really wasteful to use that much water.  I had half of bath bomb left.  I floated the idea out to April who was dismayed that I managed to reach a new low as an anxious animal. Immediately, she told me to get my ass back in the tub.  I got the water right, I left my phone on the vanity and I read a magazine and sang along to my Spotify.  I relaxed.  I felt good again.
 
So obviously, in witchcraft, it doesn't always go right.  Rituals get botched, the energy goes askew, you did the ritual and nothing happened or you got to have what we politely call "A Learning Experience" where mistakes were made and others were blamed.  What do you do then, what would a Final Girl do?  Do you give up?  Do you discourage yourself into a downward spiral of self doubt and self blame until you are curled into a ball?  I don't think that's how the Final Girl survives.  I don't think she just impotently flails and cries.  She pulls herself together when something doesn't go to plan and she re-assesses and figures out what to do.  Sometimes really fast.  Really really fast because you know, slashy bad guys are pretty quick and 2017 is starting to figure out your tricks.  2017 is starting to figure out you're the one to watch.  2017 knows that you're coming for it and it's looking for your weak spots, to catch you in that moment.  
 
Take the second bath.  
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Is the God of Witches the Devil?

Is the God of the Witches the Devil?

Is a tree the particleboard made from it?

One is a living being, the other a toxic product.

 

On the other hoof, he's a god. Gods show themselves differently to different people at different times in different places.

That he should don a Devil mask to some is not beyond conceiving.

In fact, considering both his sense of humor and his tendency to utilize available resources, it actually does seem like something that he might do.

The f**ker.

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Recent Comments - Show all comments
  • Steven Posch
    Steven Posch says #
    Admittedly, cross-pantheon identification is an inexact science, to say the very least. But it does seem to be something that paga
  • Shirl Sazynski
    Shirl Sazynski says #
    Frey/the Lord has shown up to me as a medieval Orthodox saint once, with gold armor and a beautiful glow. His answer when I blink
  • Dragon Dancer
    Dragon Dancer says #
    LOVE THIS! One the one hand, very funny! "The f**ker." especially made me laugh. On the other, "Gods show themselves differently
A Public Service Announcement from the Paganistani Ministry of Culture

It's time to start saving onion-skins.

Seriously.

We're nearing the end of the Imbolc thirtnight. Here in Paganistan we're in Bridey's Spring: what cowans call the “February thaw.”

Look up and you'll see the buds on the trees standing out from their branches. Light lingers well after sunset. Male cardinals are beginning to sing their breeding-territory songs.

So start saving those onion-skins now.

It's a month and some to evenday, when we'll stoke up the dye-pots and boil eggs along with all the onion-skins we've saved.

Eggs that will emerge from those dye-pots robed royally in the colors of Dawn herself: yellow, saffron, gold, orange, deep Minoan red.

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Animal Relationships: Partnerships

Another aspect of working with your animal teachers is to study the partnerships that they form. Many animals work with others to achieve their goals. In that case, the relationship with the other animal should also be studied. How they work together can aid in your understanding of how you can partner with others.

Various types of animal relationships have lessons to impart. For example, zebras drink at a water hole with wildebeests and ostriches. While the others see danger, the zebras smell danger. Together, the animals provide safety for each other at the communal water hole. This is an example of a community forming from diverse entities for a short duration. This could be something that festival organizers could benefit learning from.

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