SeaHeart

I am the firebird! I am his daughter!
I am the firebird's child!
I am the firebird! I am his daughter!
And like the flame, I am wild wild wild wild WILD!
I am the firebird, the boldest song you've ever heard!

To see a maiden dance around a fire is not so strange
but fire dances round the limbs of this uncommon maid!
Be brave enough to burn and you'll be brave enough to fly!
Join your sister Solace as she lights the morning sky!

I am the firebird! I am his daughter!
I am the firebird's child!
I am the firebird! I am his daughter!
And like the flame, I am wild wild wild wild WILD!
I am the firebird, the boldest song you've ever heard!

Sister will you follow me?
Sister will you dance with me?
Sister sorrow walk with me!
Sister sorrow dance with me!
Like a flame you must be wild!

~*~

Imagine this:

You've just taken part in one of the most amazing rituals you've ever experienced. You're at Diana's Grove, surrounded by exquisite community, men and women who shine with a vibrancy that can only be summed up as divine. You've gone through a weekend filled with growth and magic. Music begins, and you rise because you must. You rise to dance.

It is night. A full moon nestles in a bed of silver cloud overhead. A drum pounds all around you, creaking floorboards beneath your bare feet, the night smells sweet and green and there is grace everywhere. Women surround you, women in swirling skirts and jeans and t-shirts and velvets, and they're laughing and twirling and moving their bodies in a perfect embodiment of the Goddess. You're moving with them, slapping your feet against the boards, arching your back under the myriad of stars that crown you, overhead. The song shifts and change, and you hear cries of the purest joy. "Firebird's Child" begins to pump through the speakers, and suddenly, you hadn't even noticed, but the women are dancing in a circle, and you're calling to them, and they're calling to you. You are their sister, you are the firebird's daughter, and you must be wild, wild, wild. And you are. Oh, you are.

Something moves through you. Joy, euphoria, Goddess. It's all the same thing, isn't it? She moves through your limbs, and the fingers against the sky are yours, but not your own, and your legs move, and oh gods, you're a serpent, aren't you--the way you move your body, the way you bend and curve, and it's not you, but it is you, and it's the most you you've ever been. The candles burn, the flames flickering as the breeze moves among the women, circling them, drawing you closer. Your heart thunders along with the beat, and as you bend, heart up, arched like Diana's bow, suddenly, the skies open.

Rain, rain, cries of delight and joy, and everyone keeps dancing, but more and more and more, and it's a rising crescendo of euphoria and witchery and beauty and oh gods, it's building like the most exquisite circle casting you've ever taken part in, and it is, and the power, the power of woman, of beauty, of love, crashes around you and shoots into the sky, a reverse falling star--rising, this time, into the heavens.

The song ends, and everyone erupts. Cheers, applause, a deafening echo that you add to, by crying out from your belly, clapping your hands against your thighs, twisting and turning as another song takes place, surrounded by sisters, dancing in beauty, Goddess incarnate.

All acts of love and pleasure are Her rituals. And oh, you know this. So well.

Every time at Diana's Grove is life changing, an evolution of soul and spirit. I am a completely different person from when I went there, and the time before that...and before that. It is community, it is love and a place of safety and solace created by the Goddess Herself, it seems. The rituals, the community creations, the evolutions, the skins shed, the tempering fire, the illustrious inspiration of air, the crashing crescendo of water, the solidity of earth...I can't articulate it. The rush of the creek, the movement of the serpent, the embraces, the shift of tree overhead, and the echo of breath in my breast and the sparkle of every eye that held divinity...which was every one. Oh Goddess. Oh Beloved. Oh Brilliance. I returned from my time there Monday night, utterly spent, but glowing.

And tomorrow, we leave for Salem.

My heart is overrun, a pool of starlight, a spout of fire.

I am the firebird.

I am his daughter.

I am the firebird's child, and I am wild, wild, wild, wild, wild!

The silk scarf was long and purple, soft and warm. I wrapped it around my shoulders and sunk down into the well-worn pew with a deep sense of grace. Grace that was filled with joy and community, hope and love, purpose and reverence. It was Ostara, and together at Diana's Grove, we were about to open the gates to the season and welcome in spring.

I looked at each one of the seventeen women I had been blessed to share sisterhood and community with for that handful of days. It was intimate and personal, friendship-forming and deep magic to be around such a small number of world changers and witches. There was A, only twelve years old, shy yet impish; there was J who had shared animated conversations with me about the magic and witchery of writing. There was M who had inspired me so greatly, had made me laugh until my sides hurt. P, who I idolized, one of the greatest tarot experts I'd ever met. And, of course, Rachel, who made the weekend magic, eyes shining as she stood in the circle. In this circle, we were endlessly connected as we rose and danced in the beginnings.

I had been chosen (by a small slip of paper in a goblet) to be an invoker of Air, along with a few other amazing women. We had met for ritual conspiracy and had talked about what air meant to us, and what we would like to bring to the ritual. In Diana's Grove, ritual is community created, so we would all of us have a part. "These are our prayers and promises to Air," we began, as we moved among the women: "to grow, to flower and to fly. What promises do you give air?" The element moved among us as each cried out a promise and a prayer. To be inspired, to be loved, to be courageous...together, always together, we were drawn deeper down into the circle.

"You are the seed," Cynthea began as we settled down, into our seats, hearts beating quick with the invocation. "And when a seed begins to grow, it unfurls in darkness." She moved slowly as P picked up the drum, beating out the quietest of trance rhythms. "It reaches and it stretches and it grows...in darkness. It takes such courage to be that seed, before we break through, before we grow into the air...and what will we find when we get there? It takes such courage to grow into snow, into harsh cold, to be the first, or perhaps the hundredth. You are that seed."

My heart unfurled, like that seed, as she wove her words, as truths spilled out into my spirit. I felt every woman in the room, every heart, beating, beating, beating, like the drum. And, suddenly, there was light behind my eyes. I opened them, and in the center of the circle was a cauldron, flames leaping high.

"The sun welcomes you," said Cynthea quietly.

We rose and sang the chant, the chant of courage and connection, one to the other, and lit a candle each from the cauldron. Together, we exchanged candles, going from woman to woman as we sang. The song grew louder and louder as the words morphed into the truest and deepest of secrets: "She changes everything She touches, everything She touches changes!"

And then...and then...and then...candles flickering, faces shining, hearts upheld and connected, we finished the song, we basked in the light--we brought in spring.

What did I take from Diana's Grove? Who am I, afterward? After the ritual, I sat down in the Great Room, watching the candles flicker, too heart-full to move. J came and sat down next to me and we watched the light in companionable silence for a moment. Until I said: "You live here. I can't imagine that. One week of this, and I would be a completely different person."

She turned to me, looked deep into my eyes, and--her voice catching--said: "No...you've spent two days here, and already you're a completely different person."

And it was true.

I will not and can not forget those sacred moments. The storytelling on Friday night, as we all told the stories of the elements, and M grabbed my hand and together we walked into the center of the circle and told the story of Air. Walking the land with Rachel, laughing and crying together as we made sense of so much and learned our own truths (or, perhaps, relearned them). Finding the paths we both needed to take. Having her always be there for me, her friendship, her laughter, her kindness, her goodness and her strength. Sharing that ritual space with her, and feeling our sisterhood deepen, if that was even possible.

Playing with the dogs who make up the dog rescue portion of Diana's Grove. Finding favorites and learning their names and their favorite itchy spots. No matter where you are or where you're going, always having that canine companion. There was Percy, the Great Pyrenees, who didn't want me to go so held on to my shawl with his great jaws. There was Holly, the little Labrador baby, who followed us everywhere, a self effacing beauty. There was Abby, the pushy little Australian Cattle Dog who stayed under our cabin, soaking in the rain all night, because she wanted to be with us so much. There was Angel, the Collie who loved people but not-so-much on the pup front. There was Red Jack, the Pitbull, who made me cry when I hugged him because he reminded me so much of Beethoven...and I found peace through him. There was Georgia, the ancient hound dog, who was constantly happy, no matter what. There were countless more, whose names I never learned, but loved all the same, our guardians, our companions, our friends.

The writing workshop on Saturday morning, the tarot meeting on Sunday morning, the draws of cards, the conversations, the connections. S had put bunny playing cards with singular words or phrases all around the property, urging us to find them as a form of divination. Each one was a treasure.

The freezing cold water of the little river through Diana's Grove, rushing over my aching feet. The moment where I knelt down, heart overwhelmed in Brigid's Grove as my fingers traced the old broken statues and the bits of glass (last year, vandals broke into the Grove and trashed Brigid's Grove, smashing the statues and the well. They rebuilt it from the rubble, using the rubble, and within that was such sacredness...that you are never truly broken). Watching the daffodils push up through the earth, into the light...being those seeds.

That life changing conversation that Rachel and I had, after the ritual on Saturday, long into the night. And that promise to be that mirror for each other, always.

I am changed, and my life has changed. On Sunday morning, as we passed the round glass sphere, one to the other, to explain how we felt, what we would take from the Grove, I listened to the others relate the magic and their own truths, and felt the joy and companionship move from each one of us to the other. And as I held the warm glass in my hands, I said: "Diana's Grove reminded me to be outrageous, to be courageous, to be phenomenal. Because I am beautiful, and I am powerful, and I am that seed. And I have never felt that stronger than here." And looking around at the women who had made that weekend beautiful and sacred, I felt my heart overflow, felt it grow, felt it blossom. And I passed the glass on to A, who smiled shyly at me, and promised to remember to be magic.

We all are.


All pictures taken by Rachel~ <3

( More here... )

I'm posting from my Blackberry in a painfully slow fashion just to know I can do it. I leave for Diana's Grove veeeery early (waking at four to get to the airport on time) in the morning tomorrow. I'm all packed--I went light. Clothes, ritual dress, my beloved hand made shawl, a handful of crystals, a favorite tarot deck, annointing perfume and a journal. Outside, all is calm, all is bright, and within, I am ready for sleep--waiting with hope and love for the morning. I wonder what I'll dream tonight. I wonder what the day will hold.

Goodnight, sweet dreams~ <3

I haven't logged into my email all week, and just now I did...thank you so, so much for all of your kind wishes and sympathies and things that made me smile and your love. You're wonderful, and I love you, and all this love can only make the world a better place, right? I believe it so very much~ Thank you.

I'm going to be in Missouri this weekend for Diana's Grove's Women's Spring Equinox with Rachel (songtoisis), something I've been looking forward to for months. That it's coming now, on the heels of everything...well, the universe could not have planned it better, I think. The last time I went to Diana's Grove, the year of my wedding, I was so uncertain of what to expect, but I went with my heart open, excited and expectant and searching. Now, I come to the land with absolutely nothing...no expectations, no hopes or yearnings. I am nothing but a seed right now, at this exact moment, and I'm simply waiting to see what shape the Grove helps me to grow into.

Persephone returns from her time in the Underworld on Saturday, Ostara, the first day of Spring. Together, we will celebrate that return, and we will see how the winter changed us.

I can not begin to articulate how wonderful Diana's Grove is, how beautiful the land is, how very much it touches you to be in consistent sacred space, planning your day around the daily rituals, to be in constant communion with the Goddess in such a tangible way.

Great Momma, thank you for seeing me through these past few weeks. It's been so hard, but You've been there, Goddess, with love and fire and compassion and kindness when I didn't think I could manage. You have so much faith in me and trust in me, and I'm so awed by that, constantly. You have more faith and trust in me than I sometimes have in myself. If You believe, then I certainly must. Thank You for this weekend, thank You for Rachel, thank You for our sisterhood and the amazing space of the Grove and for the incredible friends I've been blessed with. Thank You for my blessings, for my pains, for my courage and my triumphs and my failings. Thank You for every morning, every sunset, every moment that falls through my fingers or that I hold. Thank You for my wife, my rock, my star.

Thank You for vegan cupcakes and ridiculous jokes and the sense of relief that comes after crying.

Thank You.

On my daily calendar, there is the picture of a blonde child, holding a box of treasure. She looks down into it, smiling, as it sparkles in her hands. I feel like that's my message for this day, for every day, for the weekend, for the time in ritual, for the communion and the celebration and the beautiful sabbat of Ostara, almost my favorite: look for the beauty in the tiniest of things. That's always the lesson, the truth, the star to follow. Even in the darkest of days or the deepest of pains, there can be hope.

The world is about to awaken.

And, as always, so am I.

If you're a Witch, you're never done. You will never stop learning or growing or becoming or evolving or changing or transforming or loving or caring or serving or being. There's so much comfort in that. You are never done. We were asked to stop, like Persephone, and look at the flowers behind us, acknowledge what we've accomplished, the people we've touched, the love we've spread. I did. I have. But I also look to all those flowers left unplanted.

Acknowledging that I am a Priestess changed my life in the tiniest and largest of ways. It broke me apart and remade me and showed me the truth of the matter. I want to be love, I want to serve, I want to change things and help and heal and give and grow. I want, more than anything, to be that embodiment of the Goddess here on Earth, to give that love to those who need it...to simply be love. And with those deeper realizations and wants and knowings, I was split apart and remade to hold it all, it seems.

The circle comes round again, back to the beginning.

And it always begins with seeds.

~*~

Oh yes, it's true then that life is good,
and I've learned the lesson it can teach:

To know the daylight you must know dark,
to know the flowers you must know weeds;
you cannot meet again unless you part,
or eat a pomegranate without seeds.

~ from "Demeter's Daughter" by Anne Lister

"The wildflower saints provoke me to remember the steadiness of return,
year after year. They tell me that one does not need to be cultivated to be beautiful.
They tell me that the soul remembers its essence, if it is given room to grow."
~ Gunilla Norris, Journeying in Place

~*~

We often tend to listen outside of ourselves. We hear the rush of the rain, the movement of the earth, the thunder under the freeway. We listen to our friends, to the crowd, to the coffee shop barista as he foams the milk. We listen to the symphony and the hard rock, we plug in, tune out, turn off, and in all of this listening, listening, listening...we tend to stop listening to ourselves.

To be quiet and still, to turn that focus inward, to be gentle with yourself, and compassionate of the decisions you make and the words you say...to focus everything to that still, small voice within you...it's a constant work. To further complicate things, it's so easy to listen, but very difficult to hear...people don't recognize that they're separate. "I'm hungry," you say. Or, "I hurt, and I don't know why." Or, "I feel so much joy, and there's no reason..." Or: "I feel uneasy...something's happening."

I'm water, through and through, and with the water comes intuition. But even in my constant balance of outward and inward, there needs to be time, time to set the balance straight again, time to nurture that inner voice, that inner heart, soothe the aches the modern world gives, time to love and nurture yourself. We spend so much time nurturing other people, us healers, us witches, us empaths. Why is is so hard to nurture ourselves?

A life's work, they say. Make it a life's work, this listening and hearing and following of the heart. So we make those times, and we watch the shift of the moon, and the stars, and things make sense again. I've been quiet, and I've been dreaming, but this past month, things began to awaken again. I woke up from my dreams to find that the trees are flowing once more, that the stars are shifting, and my old friend Orion is retreating farther and farther each night. "Is it that time already?" I ask him in disbelief, and he answers silently, pointing ever westward. Yes, it is always time.

My full moon ritual last night focused on two things, perfectly balanced--my Silver Branch work and my Diana's Grove work. Both asked different things that led to the same epiphanies and flowed flawlessly together. Love yourself, I was reminded, over and over. And make plans. Now everything shifts, the door of winter opens...you can sense the greening and the flowing and oh my gods, everything is coming alive or about to...it's all waiting, waiting, waiting and it's coming. It's coming, can you feel it?

It's now that the energies come, jubilant and ready, and still the door to the year is closed. Everything is hush and ripe with expectation...it's almost here, this beautiful spring, and I can feel it when I walk, my hands deep in pockets, my breath fogging the air as I crunch on melting snow.

Last night, I walked. I walked before the ritual to clear my head, to align myself, to make ready. I'd been planning the ritual for weeks and was so expectant and excited and ready...just like the year. I wished the moon out, but she stayed hidden, impish and coy, as I sang to her.

The work with Diana's Grove this month was all about Service...which I need to devote an entire post to in the coming days...

Diana's Grove asks of us, within this month, to dedicate to an element for the year. The minute I knew of this, I knew which element, and I immediately resisted it. Water, really? I thought. I am water, through and through, and there is no other element that I know more of or am more aligned with. Why water? I began to think of the work I'm currently doing, what I call my priestessing work, with the animals, with my writing, and it all came pieced together, then whole within my heart. I am to be healing and feeling, loving and flowing, even more this year than any other. I will be asked to do and see and hear things that only a water girl could do and see and hear, and if I open myself up to the element completely, there will be new challenges and new paths and I must learn and learn and learn, as always. So I said "yes" to water, simply because I knew I needed to. And it came, washing over me, ready and ecstatic to go even deeper into my heart. I welcomed it.

The other note was to dedicate to a new Goddess, to let that Goddess in. My matrons are Persephone and Brigid, and countless lifetimes could be spent working in their energy and would only scratch the surface of their work. So I thought I should pair this with my re-dedication to Brigid (I re-dedicate every year on Imbolc as a flame keeper to Brigid)...but I knew that wasn't the case. And I waited and waited for the right one to present itself, feeling the energy along the edges, but unable to see it fully.

And so, She came dancing. Bast, in all of Her glory. All of the signs, all of the whisperings and movements and moments, all came spilling forth like treasures at my feet. "I'm ready," I told Her, watching the self-love and the belly dance and the priestessing animal work and the sun and moon work and the Goddess work all roll up into one beautiful, bountiful moment.

Last night's ritual took all of these moments and epiphanies and wove them together in bright, golden cord. As I asperged, as I touched the salt with my fingers, and the water with my skin, I felt all of the energy, the dark and the light and the crescendoing season rise up within me, exultant.

And I sat in the darkness, watching the candle flicker as I chanted to the Great Mother, perfectly happy and content...

Waiting for spring.

What were your workings for the esbat? What do you look forward to with the coming of the dark moon?

...in no particular order:

Florida
Our Florida pictures are on Flickr, Jenn posted about our trip here and Rachel posted about our vacation here, and every single time I try to write up a post, I draw a blank. I can't articulate it...I simply can't, and I'm going to stop trying. It was one of the most amazing sets of days of our lives. The magic, the purification and loving embrace of the ocean and our soul family...honestly, every single time I think of what was experienced, the ritual that Rachel and I had on the beach that full moon night...I begin to cry. I've written about it in my paper journal, and that's the record I'll keep, close to my heart. There are universal truths...if you are a witch, and you go the sea, everything changes, and you are healed, always, forever. Healed.



The Fairie Festival
Jenn and I have been going to the Spoutwood May Day Fairie Festival since 2004 (it's actually where I proposed to Jenn~ <3). In the beginning, it was a second honeymoon type thing for us. We simply cavorted on the land for three holy days and nights, and it was just us. Over time, we developed incredible friendships with some of the amazing people who go there or are a part of it, and then were able to introduce our friends to it, too. To us, it's still holy and sacred, but now we share it with those wonderful people who come with us, who are there, too...so it's evolved and changed from a honeymoon type atmosphere to one of love and community, and the circle comes around again. The more fairy magic in the world, I think, the better~ To those new on my friends list, I start posting about said fairy costuming MONTHS IN ADVANCE. Expect costuming posts in...oh say, a day or two. XD There is NOTHING better in the world than any excuse to wear fairy wings. Jenn and I talk about the Fairie Festival every day lately, knowing that it is the sentinel between winter and the beauty and bounty of spring...we CAN NOT WAIT!!!!!

Diana's Grove
I'm halfway through my second year of the Sisterhood of the Silver Branch, and...along with that spiritual work this year...I am lucky enough to experience Diana's Grove again. Diana's Grove was where I first met Rachel, actually, many years ago~ :) To be able to experience the land again, the sheer magick of it all...I am humbled and eternally grateful. This is the last year of Diana's Grove in this incarnation...and the perfect year is, of course, the story of Persephone. What is Diana's Grove, and why am I doing it? Diana's Grove is sacred community...it's myth within our lives. It's sacred land, it's sacred people...it's an experience that is once in a lifetime, and that I'm actually able to be there for the final year, working with my matron Goddess and Her journey...wow, wow, wow.

What Would You Give?
...The reason I brought it up now, instead of a post all of its own (of which there will be plenty this year), is because one of the questions asked of us in January's work really touched me, changed me...meant something to me, in Florida, and continues to here. Rachel and I were sitting on the beach, and we began to talk about this month's work, when she brought up a question I hadn't yet seen. Right now, we're dealing with the part of the myth of Persephone's disappearance (there's more to it than that, but I digress), and Demeter's reaction to it...including roaming the earth, weeping and searching for Her daughter. A question asked was this: if the Goddess, in Her guise as Demeter, came to you...how would you help Her...what would you give? The question shook me to my core, and immediately my heart rose up with a response, and there was so much more that was unearthed and came to fruition and showed me magic...On the beach, in the full moon, Rachel and I discussed it once again, and something else came to light. If you were in Demeter's shoes instead...wandering the earth, and you came to the Goddess' door...what would She give you? The paradox of it, the giving and receiving (especially the receiving), and all of the implications and the way the world has been shifting lately to bring these awarenesses to me...beautiful. I had to share that question with you. :) What are your own answers? And if the Goddess gave to you...do you love yourself enough, have compassion to yourself enough, to receive it?

I Am a Priestess
I keep writing things here, and then erasing them, because nothing holds the passion and joy and rampant tides in my own heart for what happened to change things on the beach that night, and why I now call myself a Priestess in my faith, to and for my Goddess. So we'll save that for another day~ <3