Amethyst's Offerings

So today we’ve been talking about rules.  Well some people were, some of us were just laughing at the thought that there could actually be rules that exist.  In truth, unless one is involved within a setting of a group, then for the most of us, we make our own rules.  Coloring outside the box as extreme as society will let us without locking our collective asses up somewhere whether that be jail or the asylum.    There are those who proclaim loudly about following set rules such as “the wiccan rede”, which is lovely if one remembers that it is fictional poetry, or maybe the “law of 3” which is made up drivel to put it nicely. Some insist that there are set rules as if we are a cookie cutter type of pagan.  NO thanks, I’ll leave that to the secular worlds with their doctrine and dogma.  So do I follow rules?  sure..everyone does to a certain degree.  I have a personal set of ethics for myself, which are ones that I have cultivated and tweaked over the years.  Some of them are as follows:

I refuse to be a doormat.  Not for family, friends or people in general.  I have value, knowledge that has been learned, sometimes the hard way, and I refuse to let others usurp that place I have made for myself.

My path is just that…MINE.  I refuse to divulge everything about it to those who will either judge it or try to dissect it to see how it works. That is the beauty of being a solitary practitioner.  I work from guidelines of those past who taught me certain things and add in other things that relate to it very well.

I don’t usually give out spellwork.  First because unless I know you well, I will not truly know how much you understand about the ramifications of working.  So don’t ask.  I will bend this rule sometimes, but it has to be worth it.

Some work with the premise “harm none”…Strange concept to me since everything we do affects something else.  My only line in the sand if you will is “leave them breathing” when I work.  Fuck with me and mine..even that is open for debate.  ~shrugs~  just how I am.

Family is important to me..even those who want to act out, and play victim as if I had fuck all to do with how shit goes in their lives…I f I were that vindictive,breathing would be one of the gifts they’d be begging me for.

So does this mean that nobody is the same? Well give that man a cookie! We all have different experiences, different perspectives so even if we follow the same path, we will look at some things differently.  So how can one set of rules apply to everyone especially if one is expected to do so according to the letter of the law.  No leeway to express yourself or opinions.  Kind of makes us all stepford pagans huh?  That kind of spirituality is not for me.  It’s why I no long follow a more socially  accepted path.  I made no spiritual connection sitting on a pew listening to someone tell how I was to live my life in absolutes, black/white, and not question they whys of that.  I eventually got to the point that he universe just smacked me and yelled “SNAP OUT OF IT!” I blinked, looked around and carved out a new direction for me, living life with my rules.  So for those who wander around tossing out they whys and wherefores of all that is supposed to encompass a pagan path, if you expect this witch to do so….don’t hold your breath.

~DEUCES~

There’s nothing like people’s rush to judgement is there?  I mean from people who have no clue as to who you are, where you come from or how you practice.  Such is the case when someone shared a friend’s blog about an encounter with someone who was severely lacking both in her path, her knowledge and especially her language skills.  I had no problem with the sharing of what I said..because although it was a little snarky(who knew right?), it wasn’t anything that I don’t ask people on a regular basis.  What I did mind is the sharing by others who had people commenting on things they knew nothing about, and making calls of judgement on people they don’t know.  The blog was meant to be humorous since it wasn’t the whole of the conversation, just the silly stuff in the beginning.    I belong to a rare group of pagans..one who expects source when you speak unless you state that its your own opinion, and we don’t hand hold a lot to those fluff who come in and whine expecting others to do things for them.  Such was the case the other night when one came in who had googled(yeah,,,I said google ffs) a 7 day working to break up someone else’s relationship.  She seemed so young with her text/slang in writing on the board, that she was asked her age…33.  A grown ass woman seeking to bring in elements of the universe to fuck with someone else’s peace ? This witch is so not on board.  My personal ethics say I don’t cross certain lines.  I don’t play games like a teenager and seek to insert myself into other’s relationship because “I would so be a better girlfriend for them”  that is total bullshit.  So that was my first problem.  The second problem I had(yeah ok, so I had several–so whatthefuckever), was that the woman in question had no clue as to how to work her 7 day offering.  Does she extinguish it on the 7th day or can she do this hit or miss..light one day, skip a few then light it again when its more convenient…OMFG!!! If one does not know what you are doing, then leave shit the hell alone!  It’s craziness really in what people try. If you cannot give a working its allotted time, then its best to use something simpler or better yet select another time, but above all…be damn sure of what you’re asking for because sometimes you just get it and then some.  People can find anything they are looking for online I guess, or go to unethical people willing to give them what they want, but if they don’t have any clue as to what they are really doing , why take a chance on getting something you didn’t ask for?  Opening doors allows many things to walk through…some can be humorous, and others can be down right scary, but all have to be dealt with .  If one is not prepared to do so, then what?  Run here and there hoping to find someone who will take pity on you and say “poor baby, let me help you”..Fuck that!  You did it, deal with it.  There was a time back in the day when I was a doormat for those type of people, offering “help”..no longer.  I refuse to call that shit to me because its not mine and I have enough to contend with when I work.  Those who know me know that I have definite opinions when it comes to workings…a knowledge of what you are doing and why.  I’m more than a little OCD when it comes to my own…because to manipulate energies by inserting my own into a situation had better be worth the time and effort .  But that’s just me.  I prefer to handle things on a more mundane level only using my craft when it’s required , and only in situations that are more worthy than trying to fuck with other people…unless they asked for it specifically by giving me grief.  But that is my own personal ethics..Not everyone does that ~shrugs~.  Maybe she won’t fall on her face too hard or call shit that she can’t wash off ..or not..not my problem…DEUCES BITCH

Oh the snarking  level is frightful

but the humor is so delightful

when one comes ignorant as hell

ring a bell, ring a bell, ring a bell

Ghetto wiccans are tweaking

googled what they were seeking they are seeking

but they have no place to troll

so they roll, so they roll, so they roll

They’re the guardians of the hood

knowing nothing as they should

Deuces tossed as they walk

Every day  long  is  a lark.

Umm..yeah, had this little ditty rolling through my head at the ignorance displayed by ghetto fabulous

It’s a busy time of year for many of us.  I’ve been on a whirlwind of shopping for gifts, making sure that I find just the right one for each person, gathering up of the ingredients for the cacophony  of Epicurean treats we are  going to devour in the next few days.  I chose to remember the one who taught me to cook and shared her love of all that is nature’s bounty, my great grandmother, Linnie, who always made me feel welcome in her home whenever we got the chance to come home from whatever base my dad was stationed at.  Her coconut cake was one of my absolute favorites, and while to me, mine  just doesn’t taste the same as hers, it comes damn close.  The smells of the house are amazing, mulberry from the candles, flowers that make me smile as I see them in passing because fresh flowers were something that both my Gran and my mother both appreciated.  I am not sure that my family knows the importance of what the recipes mean to me, but its my connection to the past…that sense of belonging if only for a little while.  Family has always been important to me, I guess because we moved so often and we were our own piece of the life we had left back here in the south, no matter how dysfunctional it could be sometimes.  Now all those closest to me have moved on to another plane, no longer here in a physical presence to remind me of where I came from or who I am, so I choose to remember them in the telling of stories of their lives, make the foods that once graced their tables.  That keeps me connected in the busy daily grind of life.  When things became too difficult for me, my Gran would always tell me to “stand tall”..she mean for me to hold my ground because “this too shall pass”…I hear this ring in my ears still when I am more than a little off-centered.  It’s good advice even now that I am no longer the frightened child who had no idea who she was or where she was headed…I hope that some day when my little people look back on their time with me they too can smile and remember it with smiles and laughter and love…cause that is what its all about.

RING!!!  WTF!!!!! “Do you KNOW how close you are to being fed to the dragon I ask?”  “My apologies,” he says”I was just checking to make sue there were no adverse effects from our adventure of the other night””So you come when I am more tired and dead on my feet than the ghede, a sinus headache from hell and rains that cause my bones to ache worse than being on de Saud’s rack to ask if I enjoyed a damn party?” At the tone in my voice, Brin sits watching as if she is willing to accept said morsel and remove it from sight.  “I meant no harm”, he begins.  “So what was the purpose”, I ask although I already know.  “I was invited, always am, just never go.  This year I was instructed to bring a “guest”, and thought it would liven things up to do so.”  “Well I guess it did, since those are potent drinks and I let down my guard”.  “So tell me, what would you have done had the goblin decided to make me repay him for all those spiked drinks?”.  “I…he wouldn’t have”.  Really.  I look at him directly..”It’s been my experience that the male species is pretty much alike in that regards…””I brought you home,” he said defensively.”We’re friends, and I wouldn’t have let you get hurt”.  At this, I laugh.  “I’m afraid you have that twisted, elf”, I tell him.  “my definition of friend is different than a lot of people’s”.  “Tell me”, he says.  I look at him closely, his eyes burning intently into mine.  Fine.  “A friend in my world is a compassionate person who loves and trusts the people in their circle.  They choose to have their back no matter what, to offer support even if one has built a wall and wants to toss it back…It’s not a personal thing, sometimes their pain is too much and one doesn’t want to inflict that on others.  A friend is willing to be there to listen even if there are no answers..sometimes we don’t have any, but do have a shoulder for one to use when the world gets too much.  Friends give willingly without expecting remuneration, whether than is physical, spiritual..It’s not a tit for tat kind of relationship.  If we receive something from that relationship we’ve forged, then it’s counted as a bonus.  Shared knowledge and experiences are also a plus.”  SILENCE……am extended one.  “I have never seen nor felt such a relationship”, he says.  “I might be a bit jealous if you have such in your life”, he laughs ruefully.  I chuckle as well.  “Prepare to be jealous because I do have some of those people in my life”, I tell him.  “I am blessed with that because even if I don’t say so all the time, just knowing that they exist and I could avail myself of their shoulders when the world spins sideways, they are what keeps me holding on to get it back in a centered form.””Now that I’ve explained that to you, George will see you out”, I say.  At the mention of his name, George appears out of the corner almost filling the room.  He seems a little sheepish(yeah I know odd for a spider) as  if to say he’s sorry at the interruption as well(like I’d ever hear that from him).  “Good night” says the elf,”and thank you for being kind”.  He and George depart.  I sigh and lean back on the pillows.  “Lock the door Brin”, I tell her.  She does and begins to sing me back to sleep, to rest this time without dreams, distractions or pain…mmmm, blissful sleep

In the time before time, in the age that was

the guardians of ancient wisdom flew above the earth.

In the mists on mountain top, in the waves of deepest sea

keepers of wisdom that is or ever will be.

From the womb of center earth to the stillness of space

they kept the treasure within, without time or place.

The keepers danced the timeless dance of  peace

of love, of knowledge gained, of accomplishment

life and all its cares, its joys, its shadow and light.They kept within all

the secrets to be released as needed by those who walk a lower plane

but once those doors were opened, nothing seemed the same.

Some say the guardians did not exist, never graced this realm

some claim to be a direct link of that knowledge, that wisdom carried

and yet we still meander through this life carrying stones we’ve made

we’ve learned little from those who shared, who gave with pure intent

the dance is no longer, the guardians are silent

what we do with the wisdom is now on our heads

and those who danced watch with baited breath

will we or won’t we use it wisely as they decreed

or will it lie dormant as if covered by the seas

only time will tell.

I have been reading of plenty celebrating a dumb Yule feast , a celebration of ancestors from Ms Graveyard dirt, who has challenged us all to join her in her Sviata Vechera.  While I know that my mother’s family came from Ireland(my great-grandfather worked his way across to the U.S. on a ship, and made his way down south), and Romania, my dad’s also Irish and NA(great grandmother was born in Pinson Mounds, Tn on Cherokee Rez),  I am more familiar with how my Gran cooked as I was growing up.  So in honor of those that came before and taught me what I know..I too, will light candles in their honor and prepare the things I learned at her hand.  I will prepare my Gran’s cranberry bread, which is almost an orgasmic experience.  I could eat the whole loaf by myself.  I will make the cornbread dressing that tastes like it came out of her oven, the cajun smoked turkey that falls off the bone(yeah might save a few of those for later)…and OMDayum at her pineapple pies and coconut cakes. I am getting all tingly at just the thought of preparing that sumptuous feast, and even more so at being able to toast to those who passed on that knowledge of putting it all on the table.  Down here in the south, its about family and given an excuse to come together for some laughs, good food and hang out, we’ll take it.  We  will laugh at old stories, talk about those no longer with us and the things they taught us all. All as it should be.  Sounds like a damn good night of fun and I am so looking forward to it.

PEACE OUT

I shift in the rocker.  Inhaling deeply I feel my body begin to relax.  The familiar herbal smells, the warmth of the fire makes me smile in contentment.  “You’ve been running too hard Cher”, says Maman.  I agree without even opening my eyes. “I have been running…. running with interesting people”, I cock one eye at her.  She laughs.  “Cher, I think there are lessons for all to be learned there”.  Agreed, I lay my head back in the chair.  I sigh, breathe in the stillness that always fills my soul  with peace.  “I don’t know what I would do without this place”, I tell her.  “You goin’ somewhere petit”? I shake my head no.  “So why the sense of loss”, she asks?  “I’m not sure,” I tell her.  “This is for me more real than any place in the mundane world for me…secure and a place of refuge.”.  “You made it such”, she tells me.  “This”, she waves her hand around,”could be anywhere.  I could be anywhere, for I am here to help you on the path, and you chose a place that feels like home for you”.  “I have not lived in the swamp”, I tell her.  “Have you not?” she arches her eyebrows at me with a small smile on her face.  I laugh.  “Ok, it’s possible that I MIGHT have in previous time”, I concede.  “Cher,” she tells me, “we all choose sanctuary..someplace that is familiar even if we don’t understand the why of it.”Nous cherchons la paix de l’intérieur“.  I smile slightly.  Seeking peace from within is something I have had to work damn hard at.  And not always successfully either.  I scrunch deeper into the chair, noticing that for a hardwood rocker it seems to accommodate me when I need to be soothed as it rocks on the rush covered floor.  Maman comes behind me and I feel her fingers caress my hair and soothe my brow with her fingers that still smell of herbs and oils.  “La vie n’est pas toujours un combat, Cher”, she begins,  “La vie est un voyage pour découvrir qui nous sommes et ce que nous voulons devenir”.I keep my eyes closed.  “Then tell me why it feels like every day of life is a struggle for me, Maman, why the journey of discovery doesn’t hold joy for me most days?” Maman laughs.  “You try to make things fit Cher, when sometimes there is no explanation.  Such as your visitor.  No logical rational explanation for that other than curiosity and a desire for knowledge”.  Keep the acquaintance or tell those who stand with you to send them on their way.  That is your choice, just as everything you include in your journey.  Some things may be out of your control such as how others act , but you control your reaction and can either dwell on the pain or let the rain wash it away and move on”.  I nod.  Maman’s practiced fingers have done their work, and I am relaxed enough to yawn slightly.  She chuckles.  “I think you need some tea and then a nap” she tells me.  Soon I have the proffered tea and sip it letting its warmth fill me.  I look around.  “The dog is hunting with George”, she tells me.  I nod.  I never ask where or for what they hunt…it doesn’t concern me as I’m sure George would only be too quick to point out.  I sit staring into the flames of the fire, sipping the herbal tea, letting the peace flow over and through me.  “Maman”, I begin…”is there something else I should be doing”? “What more can you do, Cher?” she asks. “You teach through example, although some do not notice it until after the fact.  You treat others with respect, the love you give isn’t always returned, but you still do so.  You accept what is handed to you often without much instruction and find a way to incorporate it into what you are doing,  so what else is there to be done?”  “You’re not trying to make me out to be a saint, are you”? I ask wryly.  “HA!  THAT would be a day indeed, mon petit”, she laughs.  “Non…not a saint.  A compassionate human being, perhaps, but then you have always been that.”  “It’s why you attract others.  Collect, as you say .  Your energy is warm and life giving to those who know only the gray depths, and even for a shadow loving ghede, such as yourself, it is felt.””Sorry to seem to want my ego stroked”, I tell her.  “I’m not sure of the whole reasoning behind it…just tired I guess”  “Oui”, she tells me, “sleep now and when you awaken things will seem more balanced”.  I felt her take my now empty cup and once more closed my eyes.  Sleeping deeply I felt her presence and once again caress my hair.  I could hear Brin sing the song that I wish I knew the words to, or the language in which it was sung that soothes my spirit. It’s as if I should know it and I probably do somewhere buried deep, but it too makes me feel as if its a part of “home”.  I relax and it feels as if I am once more centered.  I awoke this morning feeling less tired than I have for some days, and found myself kind of humming the tune of Brin’s song.  I smile and even if there were no real answers or questions that made sense in the “reality” of that which I live in on this plane, my spirit is once more in balance and I can face the coming week with strength and purpose which is the truth sanctuary holds for me.  I laugh as I reflect on that little gem and shake my head.  “Merci Maman,” I whisper,”I will remember that when I feel myself doubting”. Answers after all.

“I do believe” conjures up a lot of images.   I always think of the Cowardly lion having an epiphany of sorts about “evil” and witches and such…acts committed to make one a believer.  Things like that still occur.  This is a season that is supposed to be considered holy by many faiths, filled with fun, frivolity, love and compassion.  With the politicians running amok in Washington and elsewhere, jobs are scarce.  With  Unemployment benefits running out, families are  trying to make ends meet and still provide a time of magic for their children. It’s a little hard sometimes to feel connected spiritually or physically with the season.  Some people don’t even try.   But I have been reading about a phenomenon that has been happening across the country at the Kmarts in their layaway departments.  Now the working poor..and most of us are, because  by the time we pay bills there is little left… we are well familiarized with layaways because it helps us fulfill the dreams of little people in a timely manner .  Walmart bit themselves in the ass when they closed theirs..they realized it and opened it back up again this year…but Kmart has had one all the time.  So back to the phenomenon…it seems that some donors..majority anonymous, are paying off layaways for people with children just in time for the holidays.  Its been leaving people stunned, shellshocked and extremely grateful that someone would think of others.  The reason this is newsworthy?  It’s because its a rarity.  Think..name 5 people off the top of your head (famous or not) that having the money. would do  something of this nature for strangers.  Do they? No.  Why not?  If they give, they give to charities with strings so they can take it off their taxes to gain more money.  Most of the donors(and Kmart spoke with many) just wanted to do something for others in the spirit of the season.  No religion attached, no strings, just a desire to help because they could and had the funds.  They don’t even want acknowledged so they can be thanked!  All they want is for children to have presents and continue to believe in that spirit of giving, the magic that is Santa.  How amazing is that?   I know that there are people who choose to not tell their kids about Santa, the tooth fairy and Easter bunny…for them its lying because eventually the kids find out and they claim it disappoints them.  For me, I’ve always held that each child should own a piece of the magic…that spirit of love and generosity and fun filled indulgence that fills each season.  With all the darkness in the world today, why would you deny your child something that is wholesome and filled with so much love and compassion.  They are loved, and so are left a little something.  The gifts do not have to be extravagant, the intent is to remind the child that they have a place in this world and are loved for it.  I am a big believer that children need to be shown love and reminded often that they have a big place in the family.  It’s not an all adult world..they are special and important.  For without them, we adults would soon become so bogged down in our mundane little existence that we would forget that magic exists all around us.  So for those people who have the ability to give, big or small..my hat is off to you.  You are what keeps the spirit of love alive. The gift of “brotherhood” that we all need to remember to embrace as human beings, regardless of faith, race, sexuality…Love..it’s the most powerful component of magic around.  Use it wisely.