SeaHeart

A bright, blessed Mabon morning has spread before us--a wild, untamed day of vibrancy and brilliance, leaves unfurling, and autumn descending, Persephone descending. Hail and welcome, beloved Autumn. <3 <3 <3

Today, we are applying for our marriage license. I was a little nervous that they won't give us one (they don't have to if it's against their religion), and we'll have to find another county to go to (I have activist courage about eleventy billion things regarding GLBT rights, but when it comes to my OWN WEDDING, I just want it to be all positive, all happiness--that's not such a hard-to-grant wish for most people, but for gay weddings, it is. I hate that.). Last night, I sat very still, eyes closed, and imagined them smiling when they heard the news we were getting married--getting the same reaction as all of the straight couples who go in for their licenses. I thought of all of the people who fought so very hard for us to even get to this point, and I stopped being nervous. If they treat us terribly, we'll leave, we'll talk about it, it won't stop us from getting married because nothing can stop us from getting married. That thought alone revived the great joy in my heart.

A week from today, we are getting married--legally married. We are four Glamourkins away from the completion of Operation Sparkle Wedding, we are seven days away from legal marriage, something no one can ever touch, no one can ever destroy. We'll be "official," "worth-full" in the eyes of a society that did not think this in June. I've never given a flying flip what society thinks about me, but now we're protected, we have our rights--we're safe.

Mabon is all about gratitude. Every day, I'm thankful for so very many things, but this time, the list is so much greater.

- People from all over the country are flying and driving and sparkling in to celebrate our marriage. They are taking time out of their busy lives to uphold us in love. Many more wish they could be there, will be there in spirit. We dwell in a veritable house of love, a mansion of love, a beautiful dwelling of heart and love--I could not be more grateful for you.

- We are getting legally married, a hard won, hard fought for privilege. So few of our community have this precious right...it should not be this precious, but it is, and I'm so, so grateful for it.

- Every day, every hour, every moment, I fall more in love with Jenn in my life. She is my soul mate, the celestial body to my satellite, my morning and my star rise. I love her with all that I am, every day I fall deeper into that love, I can not believe that I am blessed enough to marry her again.

Whoever you are, whatever you do, this day, I am sending you love. This is the autumn of the year, this is the resplendence of the world, this is one week from a marriage.

Oh, bliss, bliss, bliss. <333333333333333333333

For those who have been around a few years, you might remember that I've had a few Pagan non-fiction pieces published here and there under the pen name Eevie Keys. I've always used that name for my non-fiction stuff because it made the most sense to me--I like the separation, and think it's easier for readers to find what they're looking for if they're not wading through books that might not be relevant to their interests. (I'm sure Pagan folks could really care less about my fictional and magical beasties, and YA readers might not give two figs about lesbian witchcraft.) I'd always intended to continue using my pen name when I went on to publish non-fiction books. I also have been very open from the start that I'm Sarah, but I'm also Eevie--I like things simple, and hiding pen names is a tad silly, I think. SO, I'm getting a LITTLE CLOSER to releasing my non-fiction books, and thought it a good time to band everything together, all neat and tidy!

I've created Oh, Sweet Witchery! to be a web site for all of my non-fiction work, and a Twitter feed under "eeviekeys" to tie it all together. And, sometime this winter, I will be releasing the following three books:

This, which is the one I'm most excited about, has been something I've been working on for almost two years, now. *JOY*


( And two more for the less lesbian inclined! )

We're going home~ <3

Tomorrow morning, bright and early, Jenn and Maddie and I embark on our yearly pilgrimage to the North Shore--Salem, Rockport and Gloucester, Massachusetts. I've been walking on cloud nine all day--my excitement knows no bounds.

For as long as Jenn and I have been together, we have had one deep-seated goal: move to the North Shore. Going there isn't a vacation--it's a home coming. I know every street of Salem, every nook where you can curl up with a book of magic, every boulder along the shores of Gloucester to climb and rest yourself like a mermaid. My heart is singing, home is calling...

I hope your weekend is beautiful~ <3

The Rockport sea, 2008

This morning, I made my way out to our Forest Temple to give my daily offering of love to the Goddess (in this case, a freshly plucked daisy). The sunlight filtered through the pine trees, the birds were jubilant in song, and my heart was full. I'd walked along the edge of our garden, checked on the courageous plants, ever growing, fast growing, mind boggling in their ascent toward the heavens, and the fullness of new leaf. I've been gardening since I was a very little girl, but I will never lose the fascination and euphoria achieved when something you've tended from seed pokes its way through the earth, alive, well, growing. It's one of the most humbling, magical experiences you can have. Our garden is so big, and it sprawls, and it's filled with this sense of accomplishment--like, we did this, we did this together. Soon, we'll be eating fresh vegetables again, and that will be the most empowering thing that can happen. Having gone through a winter living very poorly, knowing that fresh greenery is so close reminds you of how precious the spring and summer are, how golden, how beautiful.

I entered the Forest Temple, and pressed my daisy to the offering column, and brushed my fingers along the base of the Goddess' statue. She was dew sprinkled and shone fiercely in the new light of the day. I said my familiar litany and prayer, and asked Her for my daily blessing: "may I have a good day," I grinned, and rose, feeling so light, so happy. I turned to go, and happened to glance down at my foot.

There was a tiny, perfect strawberry plant--bearing a tiny, perfect, sun-ripened-and-warm strawberry.

So, growing up, some of my happiest memories are laying in the meadow, plucking fresh, wild strawberries and sharing them with my Collie, Luke, laughing and happy in a golden spring-almost-summer afternoon. Strawberries to me are ease, plenty, joy, goodness, happy-golden-moments you hold to your heart forever. They are magic, pure and simple.

I plucked the strawberry, curtsied to the earth, the heavens, the sky, and ate it up. A tiny shock of red and juice and sweetness, that first strawberry of our summer. An offering from the Goddess, back to me.

So far, it has been a very good day~ <3

Every night, I hoop at twilight. The first stars are faintly shining in the sky, the sun is gone, but the splash of color on the horizon will last for about forty-five minutes, giving me enough light to dance.

The fireflies come out, one by one, and shift and move around me, dancing, too. It's hard to describe, that connection, that feel of earth beneath bare feet as I twirl things into being. I imagine the Goddess, shaping the world with a spiral, and I swing my hips to a sound only I and the fireflies can hear--a song made by the stars, the crickets, the waning moon overhead, the trees as they shift, pressing soft leaf tongues against the wind--the robins, as they put their babies to bed, singing lullabies in feathered language.

My heart beats fast, when I spin the hoop. The larger, heavier ones require more effort, and your skin has to stay connected to them longer to keep them in the air, suspended. You don't fight the gravity, you realize that you're a part of it, and if you romance it a little, it won't fight you, either...

It's such Witchcraft, these magic hours. I belly dance, when my hips begin to ache from too much spinning, moving myself like a serpent-made-human. I undulate, hold out my arms to the fireflies, spin and weave and whir, a piece of living clockwork in the greater Universe.

I lay down, spent, last night, body cupped by soft grasses, gentle dews, as I stared up at the stars and traced the pictures I know by heart. There is the great bear, her head held high, while she smiles indulgently down upon the world, holding us all in her great ursine embrace. I felt such magic all around me, felt so connected that I could not have spoken, even if I wanted to. I was mute, silent to the pervasive beauty and awe in the line of every living thing.

I held up my hoop to the stars, my body cradled by the earth, my hoop suspended in the heavens. I thought about what it is, as a Witch, to cast the circle, to invite the elements to witness your great rite, to draw down the Goddess from a sickle moon into your heart. I thought about magic, I thought about how it exists within me, within all things, and in that moment, I pressed my hand against my heart, overwhelmed by the greatness of the universe, and my own smallness. And how, despite my tiny spirit in comparison to a star--I am still cradled, I am still loved. I am still held.

And I set the hoop down around my feet, as I stood. And I raised my arms up to the heavens, cradling them in my arms, as I imagine the Goddess does.

I was too filled with gratitude to tell Her the two words my entire being sang. So I write them here:

Thank You.

I planted all of my seedlings on Saturday~ The lettuce is already sprouting! There is such an amazing feeling when something you've planted comes up, you can see the tiny shoots, and your heart grows ten sizes too big~ I keep watering all of the others, whispering love to them. I ended up starting the acorn and butternut squash, the lettuce, the moon and star watermelon and the sugar baby watermelon, my lavender, rosemary and thyme (I have bad luck with herbs unless I start them indoors...I've been trying to keep my herb garden afloat since we moved into this house, and without transplants, it just doesn't happen--though I didn't start the chamomile or catnip...I'm leaving those up to chance :)), the zucchini, cucumbers and tomatoes...I think I'm not forgetting anything. I have so many happy little trays, sitting on wax paper, waiting and growing~ <333 We have to plant very late around here because we're in such a cold zone--towards the end of May. That leaves the corn, green beans, peas, other lettuce and carrots and a few other herbs to go straight into the ground. I always worry about the corn--it's supposed to be knee-high by the fourth of July (or you can kiss it goodbye XD), but it always ends up giving the amount it should. That's faith, that is~

Yesterday, I planted a few new crocuses and tulips in our front bed. They were on clearance at the Depot of Home, so I got them for a song, all wilty, but they'll be right as rain soon--I have plans to have the front area covered in crocuses someday~

...You know what? There is really no reason that I should love gardening this much. Growing up, me and my sister had to work from sun up to sun down in our one acre vegetable garden and our two acre potato garden. Not to mention the orchard or the grapevines or the strawberry bushes and blueberry bushes...we worked constantly for the farm, and--at the time--I liked it, but there were times where I was frustrated with it. We didn't have time to play during the summer months very much, we worked constantly, getting the harvest ready. But, now, I still love gardening. I didn't know it then, but I was performing my first spells, breathing on the seeds, wishing them growth and life as I plunked them into the soil. When I went out to gather the watermelon or pumpkins, the squash or green beans, it was THE most magical thing in the world to pick up the vegetables I'd grown with my own two small hands. It was jubilant, and amazing. And, yes, magic~

These past two growing seasons at our house, I've not lived up to the knowledge I have, or the tenacity I possess. This year, it's going to be different!

I want us to be a self sustaining farm (when I told this to my sister, she said: so you're going to grow dog-food trees? I admit, I loled~). We have one point eight acres...nothing to sneeze at (inner city farms produce hundreds and hundreds of pounds of produce on percentages of acres). Just because I'm used to dealing with bigger doesn't mean I can't make A LOT out of what I've been given. It's time to become just a wee bit more resourceful~

I don't know how many years we're going to end up staying at Care-A-Lot Cottage (what we named our house when we first moved in), but until we leave, we're turning it into Care-A-Lot Farms~ <3

My year plan:
Large vegetable garden
Small herb garden (turning what I have [which is very sad] into something bigger)
Orchard (three apple trees, one pear tree, one cherry tree, one peach tree)
Berry patch (thornless blackberries, blueberries)
Strawberry Patch (I need to make a raised bed)
Build out the flower beds (which, I realize, has nothing to do with a farm, but still XD)

I've done a little research in our area, because I couldn't find blueberry bushes to save my life (all of my mother's have died over time, sadly, and she never replaced them), but I finally found a Mennonite family business that sells them. I'd rather not buy them online if I can help it, though I will go the online route for the Strawberries (my cousin has had incredible luck with them from Gurney's), and slips of trees, depending on how much the Mennonite family charges for them.

It takes about three full years before you start seeing any yield from fruit trees, and I don't know if we'll be here that long. But, if we're not, we'll have something nice to leave the family who buys our place. :) <3

I have no idea if this is of any interest to anyone but myself...but I'll be posting about this from time to time as the spring progresses and summer comes. In this day and age, to be able to give yourself the gift of food is pretty cool, if you ask me~ :) I paid about a dollar a packet for organic seeds. If close to all of my seedlings come up, and if close to all of the seeds I plant in the ground come up, my yield will be extraordinary, and I will be feeding myself and Jenn (and probably a lot of friends XD) for pennies.

Mother Earth provides in the most beautiful, amazing ways. I am endlessly and completely grateful for that. <3333


photo by pendore

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