SeaHeart

My novel, The Dark Wife, is the YA, lesbian retelling of the Persephone and Hades myth. You may know that my fabulous friend, Hugh, (of The Way of the Buffalo podcast.) sprung to hire the AMAZING voice actress Veronica Giguere to bring the first two chapters of The Dark Wife to life as a free audio download (here!). But, Hugh, being amazing as he is didn't want to stop there.

Hugh created a Kickstarter project to help fund the rest of the production--the ENTIRE novel as a FREE audiobook download. We can ONLY do it with YOUR help! There are tons of happy gifts to people who donate toward the Kickstarter, and we're so excited about the possibility of bringing The Dark Wife to audio--please spread the word, and thank you so much!! <3 <3 <3

Any spreading of the word is love and is SO APPRECIATED!!!!!!! <333333

}}} -- THE DARK WIFE Kickstarter Page -- {{{

This week's edition of The Way of the Buffalo is centered around The Dark Wife, and includes the prologue of my novel, as read by the lovely voice actress Veronica Giguere. I wax incredibly ecstatic about all of this here, but if you just want to bypass all of my squee and listen to the AWESOME, you can do so at the podcast.

Spoiler alert: IT IS FUCKING EPIC AND AWESOME, and I LOVE Veronica's portrayal of Persephone. I'm both awed and humbled to be a part of this. <3

(Also, please consider leaving Hugh a comment at the Way of the Buffalo's post about this, to let him know what you thought of the podcast! <3)

I wrote the text for my book trailer last week, and--last night--my sister, Laura, who is AN AMAZING LADY, sent me the book trailer that she'd done for The Dark Wife. I promptly cried and watched it eleventy billion times. It is perfect--beyond anything I could have imagined.

Today, I share the book trailer with you at MuseRising.com~ <333333333

Please let me know if you love it by leaving a comment on the blog--thank you so much!! :D

*continues to vibrate with joy*~

Who will go down to those shady groves,
And summon the shadows there,
And tie a ribbon on those sheltering arms,
In the springtime of the year?

The songs of birds seem to fill the wood
That when the fiddler plays...
All their voices can be heard
Long past their woodland days.

~ Loreena McKennitt, "The Mummers' Dance"

~*~

Like a cat, I stretch and awaken in the sun, crawling out from my long winter's dreaming. Everything is waking up, the blood rushes in the trees, the ground splits apart as tiny seeds discover their own courage. The fae creatures rouse themselves and lend their powers to the roots and buds, tiny hopes of leaves and blades of grass. The magic is coming back, waking up, flowing like the beating heart of earth that jubilantly unfurls to the beauty and raw possibility of spring.

The deep pain of what happened in my Forest Temple is fading, replaced by quiet and expectation. Out of everything fallen, something rises. Tomorrow night, I will do a blessing ceremony--a cleansing ritual to wipe the hurt and pain from the place. I will then plant a beautiful baby tree, the little fir that Jenn gave me, fittingly, for Yule, and will give a bit of love and life back to the space. I will call upon the guardians of that beloved temple, the very guardians of the earth, to watch as I work the rite. And magic will be made, by my will, and that of the Goddess.

We stand here, at the threshold of a brand new, living year. I'm filled with joy, with hope, with the deep love of all the growing things, come back, reborn, rebirthed.

Every second of every day, I dream of the Fairie Festival, I plan our costumes, I bask in the warm earth, I treasure my tiny seedlings, I water the plants, I tend the bulbs, I plan all of the yardwork needed...I am a child of the earth, warmed and awakened by the sun, touched and healed and loved by the plants I touch and heal and love in return.

Everything in the cycle, everything returning.

Hail, Spring, hail Persephone, beautiful maiden returning.

Hail, myself, fully awakened.

Hail perfect, beautiful earth. I love you~ <3

~*~

You didn't come into this world.
You came out of it,
like a wave from the ocean.
You are not a stranger here.
~ Alan Watts

~*~

Easter and Ostara is, after Samhain, my favorite Sabbat. I am Polish, and my family has always made a Very Big Deal about Easter. Ostara is a long festival for me, stretching from the Vernal Equinox to the actual date of Easter, with everything put in between. Friday is my Forest Temple ritual, Easter morning, I will do one (as tradition speaks~) beneath the arms of my beloved tree on my parents' farm (Magnata, the one who has sheltered me since childhood). Friday evening will also involve a trip to the Broadway Market to pick up Easter feast fixings (and a side trip to the health food store for my vegan Kielbasa. XD). I'll take a trip through the ravine, watch the rushing stream, check the apple orchard blossoms and on the old cherry tree (that still cradles me, on occasion, as I write). I'll walk through the horse pastures, take a cart ride with my mother and the geldings, watch the Ten Commandments with my family (and bask in the glow that is Nefretiri XD) and dance the old dances and those of the new.

What are the signs of awakening spring in your area? What do you love best about this time of year? What calls to you?

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 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