Amethyst's Offerings

Source..sometimes when I hear the word in reference to someone’s path it makes me chuckle because I am reminded of the show Charmed where they speak of “the source” in reference to the beginning of all that is evil that they fought with ..control of the demons.  Yeah I know, its Hollyweird, but even they can take glimmers of what is and make it entertaining.  So it got me thinking about how other feel about the source of their paths.  In the pagan world that can be many things..can be heritage, education, UPG(unverified personal gnosis), others choose doctrine or dogma to validate their faith in source.  Some even pull in race.  Are these all valid?  Depends on whom ones asks I guess.  It works for them so would appear so.  I guess the only one that I have trouble wrapping my head around is race being one of the major components of ones faith.  I know that in some practices of voudo, it plays a big part.  I know that  many Haitians feel this, but there’s is not the only voudo practiced, and I have yet to see a Loa who chose someone say..”nope, sorry you aren’t black enough” .  Maybe its a knee jerk reaction on my part about the race thing.  Living in the south I have been exposed to all sorts of hatred on both sides.  I remember when my dad was in Korea, and we lived here in Mississippi and the courts decreed “desegregation works”…All the adults seemed to have lost their minds.  In a military world, living on bases, the kids played with one another, made friends across racial lines, so to sit in a small town in Ms and experience this was extremely scary.  I was only 9 at the time and remember that things got ugly.  My aunt came to get us out  of school, and I went to find my then 5 yr old sister and get her off the bus.  Not 10 minutes later, I saw that same bus being rocked by crazed adults with children inside! Never mind that they were black..they were children. I could not believe that adults would act in such a manner, it had not been part of my life until then, and other than my own personal experience had not seen adults perpetuate violence on others children just because of skin color.  I knew then as now that race is irrelevant because we are ONE race..HUMAN.  I remember going up the hill to my Gran’s house and talking it over with her,  She fixed me lunch and we spoke of how mean humans can be to one another when they feel their status quo is being threatened.  I think she did more to calm me and explain things than anyone I encountered that day.  Schools got closed indefinitely, so I was out for about 6 weeks until my dad got home and we left for Oklahoma…Back to the “normalcy” of military life.  But it made me look at things differently, coloring my perception of the world.  So I guess that explains somewhat how I feel when one stands and in their arrogance decrees that one cannot practice a certain faith because they either weren’t born into it or of a certain race.  It to me is similar to the crazed adults of my childhood..elitist, arrogant , prejudicial and racist.  It’s a way to jealously guard their “territory”.  But god reaches everyone..no matter what path you encounter him on right?  I’ve always been instructed that is how it works.  We all have history,, heritage and we come from things differently, but to try and limit the gods….that is act of futility.  For when one tries to do so, they will show you just how human you are and bring you to your knees..  lesson learned.

 

PEACE OUT

I’m traveling..on my own this time…. why am I here without being summoned?  I pull the small boat up near the steps and walk to the porch.  Maman Celeste opens the door…”Come on in Cher, you’ve journeyed long”.  I walk in to the small hut, smiling, for Maman looks like an exotic bird taken from the rainforest and set down into the swamp.  She wears a colorful dress, her cinnamon colored skin is perfumed by the herbs she works with.  Her black hair curls around her face…She looks timeless.   I am pleased to see her.  The flames from the  fire fill me with warmth,  chasing the chill from my bones.  The huge cauldron is bubbling as usual, herbs above the mantle give off their woodsy scent…   But something is missing….the dog..yeah, where is he?  Jacques is tracking says Maman…I don’t even want to know who or what..that hellhound makes me nervous with his deep knowing as he looks into ones eyes.  Maman gives me some of her special tea..it instantly revives me and I tell her I really need this recipe which makes her laugh.  You did well traveling alone she tells me.  Why did I do that, I wonder?  I usually only come when summoned when she needs to tell me things..why would I come alone on such a long journey.  Then I spy familiar eyes out her back window…George…He followed at a distance Maman tells me..it was your first time doing so and he wanted to make sure you were all right.  He will also follow you back…just to be sure.  I nod.  You did well George tells me, then settles down  for a nap so that Maman and I can talk..  “You have done well with your learning Cher”, she tells me.  Last time you were here you needed an answer, now you have them and have put them into action.  So why the need to travel I ask her?  Instead of direct answer, I get observations…You have become a master weaver of webs she tells me.  Iridescent and strong…it keeps out those who would come check you out.  There have been a few I admit.  Most of those were just curious about you..your energy is strong and your knowledge comes through when you speak.  I don’t know near enough I tell her.  But you’re still learning she tells me…nobody knows it all.  “Tell me where you feel most comfortable, Cher”, Maman asks…Well here of course, and  in the small glade with Brin and by  the water in the cemetery at Shiloh.  “HA”! she cackles.  “For an air sign sweet girl, you sure love the water and are connected to the earth.  Baron’s call was a strong one hmm?”  I laugh.  I guess.  I had never considered it until recently.  Maman Brigit was always the one who I connected with.  “She still guides you Cher, but now you have need for the balance from Baron Samedi”..”It is time to listen and work”.  I nod and absently rock in the old wooden rocker as I think.  I gaze out the window and catch sight of a snake making her way along the rim of the porch roof.  She is beautiful, blues, greens…George stands, and shakes his finger(finger on a spider?)…and shakes his head gently.  The snake bows her head to him and moves on her way.  She was just checking to make sure I was all right I tell George.  I know he tells me…your friends are allowed on the perimeter, but not in the sanctuary proper…You can see and smell them, sometimes hear them, but they will not be allowed all the way in.  I nod in understanding.  “You have some good friends”, Maman tells me…”they check on you, care what happens to you…without asking you to give”.  “different than it used to be…you are learning to gather wisely.”  Well, I wouldn’t exactly say I gathered them..they sort of took me in.  But it works in my learning, and balance.  They are amazing people.    “Sleep child”, Maman tells me,,”soon it will be time for you to return home”.  I close my eyes.  when I awake, I feel refreshed and content.  “I have something for you to take back with you”, she says, and places a small talisman in my hand.  I hug her goodby and thank her for listening to me.  “You are always welcome here Cher”, maman tells me…”this is your home as well”.  I get back in the boat, and this time George piles in behind me.  I raise my eyebrows in question, and he shrugs..”you know I am going, so why not”, he says.  Why not indeed.  I awoke this morning with a smile on my face and this dream spinning around my brain.  I have thought about it several times throughout the day, .  The talisman?  I awoke with a sigil drawn upon my right hand!  I copied it carefully onto a paper because I don’t know how long the on on my hand will stay.  I will not tell what that sigil represents, but suffice it to say that it holds a great deal of promise for me.

 

PEACE OUT

Why do we hide from the world?  What is the purpose of that?  We wear a mask for this one, yet another for someone else.  Why do we do that?  Is it because we have been so ingrained with others perceptions that we are afraid to let the real “us” show through?  Do we believe all the lies that have been thrown at us so that we cannot allow ourselves the truth?  I still have moment of insecurity..yeah yeah, those who know me are like “really?” Yes..really. I keep it well hidden because its one of those control issue things.  Ya’ll know how it is with me.  I know others who want to do the same.  Revealing their warmth, their compassion for others can be construed as weakness.  I wonder if its the same for them..that we choose to keep things hidden out of fear, that if we allow others to see our truth that we somehow let them have power over us.  I know that it isnt true of course..people only have as much power as I choose to allow them, so why then the feeling that I need to hide things?  Maybe its a holdover from that scared child who managed to survive the abuse, or maybe its the rattling of old skeletons that cause me to pull back..I don’t really know for sure.  what I do know is that I am working on letting all that go.  Walking with my head held high, becoming who I am meant to be, and if others don’t like it, then so what?  It’s not like they live my life or anything.  Truthfully, some days when manic man is having issues, or I am stressed about what bill gets paid..I would be willing to let them do just that…but just as I am about to..I pull back because of that damn need to be in control.all.the. time…So..how to let go? I wish I knew all those answers.  I do know that as I meditate and find myself spiritually, it seems to help..the letting go of fear…As I speak with my guides and I immerse myself in study with others, I am not as fearful as I once was.  Not sure I will ever conquer all of it, but for now I am content to take small steps at letting go, and that is how life’s journey begins…putting one foot in front of another.

 

PEACE OUT

I have often been left shaking my head at how kids act and behave when out in public and out of sight of their parents sometimes.  Friday night , Brae and I were at the high school football game.  I live in small southern town, so prayer is a given before the start of every event..Usually given by a student representative, sometimes not, but I have never heard anyone object.  While christianity is not my path, I stand quietly and in respect of those around me.. So with heads bowed, Brae and I stand still until the prayer is given.  A group of young people on the ground below us are laughing and cutting up during this time, until one of their friends shushes them, and they lower the level of their merriment.  Then comes the playing of the national anthem.  Now I grew up in military home, so that for me…is almost religious in the respect its given…One stands still, places hand over heart and salutes the flag.  I show Brae how to do just that and she does it as do the people around us…all EXCEPT this same group of young people.  They laugh, shove one another all during the song..making me want to yell at them…”wtf is wrong with you”? “Did your parents NOT teach you any respect for those who died giving you the right to act as if you were dropped on your head”? “do you not have respect for yourselves or the people around you?” My five year old had enough courtesy to stand still even if she had no idea what the reasoning was for it.  It got me to thinking…did their parents not teach them about respect, patriotism?  I know that a lot of what passes for history taught today is not the same as I learned…and yet they have seen their share of things that this country has been through.  Wars on several fronts, attacks upon this country…and yet they can’t take the time to stand quietly during the playing of a simple song that holds so much meaning for a lot of people.  I know its hard to sing, difficult to play, and seems archaic…but the meaning that it symbolizes to those who have a connection to those who fought and died for this country, runs deep.  Many of us grew up hearing it played at every military function, as well as other military staples, and were taught that the flag is one of the most important symbols of our country because it is the first thing raised in every military post including those far away places in battle even if it may be there only temporarily.  I’m trying to do my part in showing my little people the need for respect , but it’s damned difficult when others seem to refuse to do the same.  If one cannot show respect for the flag of your country, for others saying a prayer,then how can one possibly expect them to be respectful for other human beings?

 

PEACE OUT

This weekend marks the 10th anniversary of one of the worst tragedies our country has ever experienced outside of war.  We all sat stunned in front of television sets, listened to radios, talked in whispers as we watched landmarks crumble in front of us, taking lives, shattering innocence, and reminding us that we are not invincible.  I was home that day, and sat like others, holding my oldest grandson, who was almost 2, in my lap needing his sweet innocence to balance out the destruction I saw being played out in real time in front of me.  Do you remember where you were? What you were doing?  It happens like that with tragedies, especially ones on a grand scale.  Who could have imagined that this great nation of ours would be sucker punched and left gasping for breath?  Not since WW II have we even considered that could be a possibility.  So we picked up the pieces, and got on with our lives, and yet as the anniversary of that infamous date rolls around..what did we learn?  Is anything we have done in the last 10 years done anything to strengthen us as a country, pulled us together, united us as a people, or honored those that lost their lives in a real way?  Sadly, I have to say that while there may be small glimmers of a nugget, as a whole the answer would be “NO”.  Families were devastated by loss, our country was set back on its heels with shock and dismay, and yet in the years since, we have arrogantly invaded other countries(Iraq had nothing to do with what happened on 9/11..just FYI)…and still treat each other with contempt if they don’t agree with our definition of societal norms.  So how would one give honor and respect or those who lost their lives? After reading the stories of those children who lost parents that day, I would say it is living well..being the person that parent hoped they would become.  That legacy speaks volumes.  Live life to the fullest, don’t let fear hold you back..don’t take those who love you for granted, because they may not be there later when you turn around to look.  We can make excuses for not doing so, but I’m sure that given the things that happened in this country, like the bombing of the Murray building in OKC, and 9/11, and the wars fought by so many brave men and women, those excuses would come up short and sound more than a little lame.  So this weekend, when one stops for a brief moment to say a silent prayer for those lost, those left behind to pick up the pieces, and those still on the front lines fighting for our rights to do so, resolve to reach out and live life…smell the roses, experience all it has to offer.  Don’t let fear sideline you and keep you from being all that you are destined to be.  Tell those you love, those you admire that you do so..don’t just assume that they know it.  Become a legacy of human compassion for your fellow man…start a new trend….be better than society claims you have to be.  And learn to love yourself when you come up short.  That for me is the ultimate remembrance.

 

PEACE OUT

When one thinks of crossroads, a dirt road crossing out in the middle of Bum fuck Egypt comes to mind for a lot of people.  It has been said that many come to the crossroads looking for fame and fortune.  one of those legends was Robert Johnson, legendary bluesman from Mississippi, who it was told that went to the crossroads near Dockery Plantation(near Cleveland, Ms in the delta), and met up with a large black man(aka devil) who tuned his guitar and allowed him to make the music he was famous for.  I don’t know what kind of deal ol’ Robert made, or if he really did although he claims to have done so… but in his lifetime, his recordings sold poorly, and he had no fame until after his short life was ended and other now famous guitarists began crediting him with being innovative enough that they too learned from him.  He exchanged his soul it has been said to develop the kind of blues that others now add to their repertoire. Various paths have entities, deities that rule the crossroad…Hekate,Papa Legba are but a few that come to mind.  So why the crossroad?  Many of us at one time or another come to a divide..a crossing either in our physical lives or spiritually.  Physical can be as simple as deciding where to live, marry or not, children or no, change jobs, stay….Spiritual can almost have us awash in the ocean and all it can entail.  Crossroads mean we make changes and decisions we would not normally do..asking guidance for those we might not otherwise speak to directly..and yet…there comes time when we have reached a place in our walk that seems to have no fresh air to breathe , and we have searched through our usual bag of tricks and seem to come up short.  So we gather ourselves and make the journey that will bring definite change into our life.  It is there that changes abound, surprises are around the curve just ahead and yet that chaos that ensues is necessary for us to continue to grow.  Others make change sometimes for the sake of change, and that baffles me, because I usually have to be dragged kicking and screaming to make the change..and its not too different this time ~smiles~…I think the guides have done everything but smack me upside the head to accept the fact that I have become too complacent, too content where I am and that I stopped moving forward.  So…here’s to change, moving forward and a freshness to step and lightness of spirit…SLAINTE’

 

PEACE OUT

Yesterday I was just thinking things through, so went rummaging through my drawers in a little chest I have.  I opened first one, then another, smelling the oils and salts that I have stored there.  In the bottom drawer is where I keep my threads..Nothing major, embroidery skeins of various hues and colors.  I use the threads for various things.. like workings, making poppets.  So I was feeling restless, and when I reached for the threads, they seemed to just pull me in.  I stroked them, sorted them, then began to pull out some I wanted to work with.  A few friends like my dolls so I am making them one.  I chose threads that I feel they will like…feel comfortable with.  As I began to wind the thread around the small piece of wood I use for arms and legs, now worn smooth from its use, I found myself humming.  it took me a minute to realize the song that had been springing forth.  It is the same tune that Brin, my guide sings to me as she soothes my spirit.  I don’t know the words, let alone the language, but do know that it speaks to my soul as nothing else does.  I find myself smiling.  Yeah, this feels so right.  I find myself wondering what took me so long?  I’m not sure…maybe I thought I was too busy doing what has to be done.  But this was long overdue.  While I was working, humming, smiling, our resident princess came to investigate what I was up to.  She peered over my shoulder and says..”I want one Nana”.  I will make you one I assure her.  Hers will be pink of course because as a girly girl, that is her color.  I make arms, legs, heads…and find that I have need of some other materials, so today while Brae had her dentist appointment, she convinced her mom to go by the craft store and pick them up for me..After all, she gets her own poppet, right? I usually embroider the faces, or use pins for eyes, but today Brae has added her own twist..she got her mom to buy colored eyes, “because the dolls need to see”.  I’m loving it. So as I begin again , crafting, working…I am sharing with others that which is right in my walk.  And that makes me feel content indeed.

I’m sitting here listening to it rain for the second day in a row.  Tropical storm/depression causing all kinds of problems in the area …It’s that time of year.  But what about rain in our life?  I’ve often heard of “latter day” rain back when I sat in a different path.  It means blessings being rained out by the holy ghost upon god’s people.  It’s hard to think of rain as a blessing if one has seen it fall steadily and can’t feel like their life is experiencing growth, especially in the spiritual realm.  I’m little off center about a few things going on, maybe it’s just aftermath of what has been going on in the physical…not sure yet, but will definitely be seeking advice on why I have this “meh” feeling when I think of the spiritual aspect of my life.  It’s not that I think things aren’t going as they should be, it is. But it used to have this feel of excitement and anticipation, and I seem stuck on the sidelines with no outlet.  In truth, I haven’t done things as I used to do got too complacent.  no crafting of tools..the making of salts, poppets, candles…I had no desire to do so…not really sure I do now.  I did pull some things out last night and felt that tug of energy that made me smile, so maybe if I do a few things like that it can jump start the energy that makes me feel whole.  It kind of makes it hard being solitary with nobody to bounce this off of..I have control issues, so don’t talk about it with just anyone.  Maybe this is the  time to feel like the rain falling is needed..make me stop and appreciate those gifts I know I possess, see which ones I need to work on…yeah I’m looking in the mirror and taking stock..that is what one needs to do when it rains…accept those times as blessings and appreciate  the growth rain brings…NOT TO SELF: back to work slacker! lol…

Invisible, here, not here

don’t speak here, say nothing there

Your knowledge is immaterial

and yet…some listen anyway.

Why? What difference doe it all make

anyway?

Who cares if what is known has truth?

what does it matter if  my spirit bleeds from keeping silent?

The guides say speak, others say teach

man says shut the fuck up..

What to do? Where to go?

How do I explain that I can’t…others aren’t willing…

Am I losing what I have?  Did I ever have anything?

Things seem to be shadowed by fear…

Who’s fear?  Mine? Others?  Are they one and the same?

My tears fall in frustration…I cry out to the guides

but they are silent….I’m out here alone I rail…

Silence………….