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Being in the world to see it,
is the best way to learn
its secrets and stories.
Walking with a poet’s eyes,
a dreamer’s mind,
and a witch’s heart,
is the best way to
fully inhabit
the story of your own life
as it is being written
right now.
Choosing to see
the magic
that is at work,
right now
exactly where you are,
is a radical and revolutionary act
of re-enchanting the world.

Today, I sought the pines
and stones
once more.
Descending into the steep gully
to look for sweet water
easing its way
from the depths to trickle
across ancient stones.
I found both comfort and delight
in sitting by a tiny pool,
looking into the water,
allowing myself to be held
and restored.
I anointed my forehead,
face,
and shoulders with cool drops
from this smallest
of possible waterways,
both unnamed and essential,
and then opened my palms
to the sky
to invite the rain.
I sat with swaying
sycamore, elm, and ash trees
listening to the music they made
with leaf and wind.
I found a turkey feather
in the leaves
beside the water,
soft and fluffy and tipped
with an iridescent greenish shine
I listened to my heart.
I offered up both hope
and dreams
upon this altar of stone and sky.

The primary source of heat in our home is our wood stove, and is an important part of my spiritual practice during the cold months of the year. This winter about half of the wood that we are using comes from our land and the rest has been purchased from someone in our county. The fuel we use is local and from the soil of our bioregion. I have a good sense of how long it took for the trees to grow, and the weather and water that fed their growth.  Relying upon the wood stove focuses my awareness, gratitude, and mindfulness in many ways. We do have a modern heating system as a backup plan, but its biggest purpose is to keep the house warm when we are all away on a trip.

Last week I realized that yet again I'd set my standards for my daily practice too high. I couldn't sit at my altar without lighting the candles; I couldn't light the candles if the candles were burned out; I couldn't buy paraffin candles, I had to make my own out of beeswax; I couldn't make my own candles because the kitchen was a mess. This is what happens when you have high hopes and two small children. You sit around wishing you were doing spiritual work while they empty every drawer in the house for the fun of it.

I'm proud to say that I did end up making my own candles, but the compromise was that I did it in the filthy kitchen. If I'd taken the time to clean the kitchen beforehand, you see, then that would have taken up all my candlemaking time, and the next time I went to make candles, it would be filthy again. When I took my new candles to the altar, I thought, "But I can't light them without cleaning the altar off first. And cleansing the space! And refreshing the offerings! And performing invocations!" No, I told myself. I found that I had to give myself permission to do things imperfectly. I let myself cleanse the space. Then I lit the candles and annointed my Cernunnos statue. And that was it.