First Evening of Spring PotPourri


* It’s likely an indication of the fact that I’ve been working too many long days without a break that my first thought upon reading this is that pineapple & lavender syrup would make lovely cocktails.

* Now that it’s (finally!) Spring, the Greenman and I are hoping to go see a Virginia native: bluebells. Although I have to make the Brit-to-US translation, bluebells always remind me of one my favorite lines (“Smells like bluebells. Smells like heaven.”) from one of my favorite movies, I Capture the Castle. What Spring flower are you longing to see?

* It takes a certain level of assholishness (that’s a new word that I just coined and I want credit any time anyone uses it!) to do something like this to fourth graders. Remember, the people who hate Planned Parenthood love “the children.” (hat tip to Star).

* Speaking of assholishness, the Catholic church in San Francisco (named for St. Francis! He’s rolling in his grave!) has been dousing the homeless with cold water to stop them from sleeping inside the doorways of cathedrals. (“In its majestic equality, the law forbids rich and poor alike to sleep under bridges, beg in the streets, and steal loaves of bread.” ~ Anatole France, Le Lys Rouge (1894)). Don’t you dare “No True Scotsman” this one. No, that’s Catholics for you. Whom Would Jesus Douse? So first they demand that every single fetus get carried to term and then, when there are too many people and not enough land, jobs, and houses, they douse those extra fetii with cold water to keep them from messing up Jebuz’s nice church doorways. I’ve been traveling back and forth to San Francisco a lot for my job and I guarantee you that the next time I’m there, I’m going to bring supplies and hand them out to the homeless at Saint Mary’s Cathedral.

* One advantage of having a relationship with your land base, with your own, to use a phrase from The Secret Garden, Bit of Earth, is that you can learn to listen to the gossip of the landbase that goes on all the time. It goes on all the time even though most people are completely unaware of it, just like that oafish boss at your job is unaware of all the gossip about her that goes on in the lunch room. Here’s just a tiny taste of what I mean.

The local crows always tell me when the neighborhood cat is bothering the chipmunks, when a hawk is watching my birdfeeder, when anyone steps into my yard. OK, almost all of the time it’s someone who should be there: the lawn guys, or the mulch guys, or a meter reader. But I’m still grateful for the warning. How do you embed yourself into the gossip of your Bit of Earth? How do you contribute to it? (I tell the crows, “OK, the guy is coming to prune the trees. Don’t dive bomb him; he won’t cut down any branches with nests.” And I put out bird food in Winter. Contributing to the local foodbank is part of being a good neighbor.)

* I was delighted to hear, at this year’s Sacred Space/Between the Worlds conference, quite a few references, in various sessions, to house spirits, meaning the spirit of each, individual house.

Of course, animist that I am, I’ve always known that every building has its own spirit and that every building longs to be in relationship with other buildings, other objects, other spirits, other carbon-based lifeforms. I know that my own little cottage certainly does and part of my morning meditation is to be in communion with it. My article in the upcoming issue of Witches & Pagans magazine will talk a lot more about this.

Do you ever get in touch with the spirit of your house? Invite it into your magic? Do magic for it? Has it ever helped you or have you ever helped it? How does it look, feel, sound, behave? Can your articulate exactly how this stands in opposition to capitalism, patriarchy, fascism?

* Here’s the most exciting thing that’s happened to Witchcraft in the last ten years. Thank the Goddess; there’s a lot of us old broads who’ve been waiting a long time, doing a lot of old magic, and hoping against hope that this would happen. So mote it be.

* Here, from the folks who brought us the Wildwood Tarot, via the Fool’s Dog is a spread that I’ll be doing this Equinox:

Card 1: This card is my beloved light – this is what the cards say lights you up brightest. (Card position inspired by the sun).
Card 2: This shadow obscures my light – this is the obstacle, habit, barrier etc (Card position inspired by the moon).
Card 3: This helps me move from the shadow to reveal my light to the world. (Inspired by the solar eclipse).
Card 4: This is my beloved darkness – a part of yourself that you do not share with others (inspired by the dark supermoon)
Card 5: This is how I balance my beloved darkness and light to enhance my life and those lives around me (inspired by the Vernal Equinox)
Card 6: This is what the Universe wishes me to shower upon the Earth! This will be an unexpected and life-enhancing spectacle!
(inspired by the Northern Lights).

What divination do you do at the beginning of Spring?

Picture found here.

5 responses to “First Evening of Spring PotPourri

  1. I’m a long time reader, first-time commenter. You’ve been a very important Teacher of mine for many years, and your posts here have inspired me more than you could know. (For one thing: I practice my spirituality daily!)

    Thanks to you, I’ve learned that I’m made of Willamette River and Rock Creek. I’ve sought out deeper knowledge of the native wildlife here, and can tell you that when its bark naturally peels back the exposed orange wood of a pacific madrone is cold to the touch. In October when everyone’s lawns sprout with wide flat mushrooms, I’m reminded of the mycelia that connect us all. I am still trying to learn what it means to be the Witch of this place, my corner of the student ghetto in a little college town.

    I’m also Catholic. And it’s a very, very strange thing to find yourself a Witch, and spend more than a decade searching for what that means and learning and asking the Goddess to gift you with the right Tradition and community to support you (solitary practice never quite fed my soul), and be dropped firmly and resoundingly into the Roman (goddamn) Catholic (are-you-kidding-me) Church. I was showered with synchronicities, coincidences, opportunities for growth, mystical experiences, and immensely powerful women mentors (living and Dead) from the first morning I stepped foot in a mass as a favor to a friend. I attended for 3 years before I became a formal inquirer and spent the whole time with my toes in the soil and my eyes on the stars asking Her, “Respectfully, are you &*(%$%^ing serious?” (Her answer never wavered even once; she would just hit me with another 2×4 marked “YES”.)

    I wouldn’t dare say Archbishop Salvatore Cordileone (of St Mary’s Cathedral) isn’t a Catholic. He is, and so are all the other bishops, priests and even some layfolks who’ve been similarly corrupted and damaged by the ongoing effects of a religion co-opted by Empire. What we call in the business a “blemish on our love-feasts, autumn trees without fruit, twice uprooted, dead”, and in need of exposure to the sometimes-painful healing light of Justice. I first learned about this horrifying crime against the homeless from a fellow Catholic who works as a liturgist in Archbishop Cordileone’s diocese. We wept together. But we both feel the call in our souls to this place, this peculiar infuriating Church, and we know we can’t surrender the love-feasts instituted by our Jesus of Nazareth to these &^*#! bishops.

    I just thought I’d let you know that there are Witches (and people who do the work of Witches without ever naming themselves so) among Catholics, many of us, working to uproot, to heal, to expose; fighting and rallying and weeping and rejoicing; doing what we can to correct the damage and ill-balance that’s embedded itself so deeply in this Tradition.

  2. EE, thank you so much for your kind words. As for being Catholic and a Witch, well, you certainly have your work cut out for you. Thank you for doing what you do.

  3. Loved your post. The flower I would most love to see is a simple buttercup. I haven’t seen one in so long. I remember as a child, my mom would pick one and put it under my chin. If it reflected yellow, it meant that you liked butter. Silly little thing, but I yearn for buttercups. Lots and lots of buttercups.
    I also love crows. I love to hear them in the morning talking, gossiping and just having a grand old time in a huge oak tree behind my house. I’ve been feeling the need to bring them closer.
    Thank you for sharing on this blog.

  4. sw, I love buttercups, too! Hope you find some! Ask the crows, maybe.

  5. Pingback: Divination for Divine Ostara | Tree of Knowledge Coven

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s