Police Abuse: Simple Guidelines to Protect Yourself
Staff Writer: Theresa Chaze
With the rapidly increasing occurrence of the police abusing individuals and ignoring their civil rights, everyone needs to be aware of what their rights are and how to protect them. No longer do the First and Fourth Amendments provide the freedoms and protection the founding fathers intended. Freedom of religion, speech, to gather and engage in peaceful demonstrations are no longer protected rights, nor is the right to be safe from unreasonable searches and seizures in our homes, cars, and places of business. The police no longer consider themselves pubic servants, but public masters who are above the laws. Their motto has been perverted from protect and serve to that of harass and intimate.
As in the cases of the UCLA student who was tazered multiple times by the police to the New York City undercover officers who turned a city street into a shooting gallery, these officers excuse their behavior under the banner of self-defense and expect the public to blindly accept their word in spite of valid physical evidence to the contrary. They are arrogant enough to believe that their word will not or should not be questioned. However, when they are confronted and complaints are filed, they harass and threaten their accusers into silence. Those who have the courage to follow through find the complaint system is skewed in the favor of the officers and against the individual. As with a Florida reporter, who exposed several law enforcement departs refusal accept complaints, was subject legal harassment and unlawful arrests, so it is across the country as law enforcement rallies to protect its own. The blue wall is not a myth or an illusion, but a force that protects renegade officers in shrouds of silence and sheer brutality. In addition, complaints are filed with the supervisor of the offender; it’s like complaining to Don Corleone about one of his lieutenant’s behavior. The members of the Internal Affairs divisions are chosen by the chiefs or commissioners and answer to him or her not to the public. It is in their best interest to follow the lead set by their supervisors and not muddy the waters by questioning the officers or their departments’ ethics. Civil complaint boards are only as effective as their members wish them to be. Going to the media and suing civilly have become the more effective means for victims of police abuse to receive justice. It is only when the public outrages becomes intense that the law enforcement agencies are forced to take appropriate action.
Although the abusive officers are only a small percentage of those on duty, the officers who know about the abuses and do nothing are just as bad. In ignoring, defending or protecting the abusers, they allow the behaviors to continue and to escalate. Their hands are just as bloody as those who do the actual harm. By keeping silent or excusing the abusive behavior, they betray the trust the public has consigned to them and placed themselves in the same category as those who do the harm. It would be in their own selfish best interest to expose the abusers and restore the honor of their departments. In doing so, they would make their jobs easier and safer as they would have the co-operation of the public, instead of the public seeing law enforcement as just another enemy.
The ACLU has released a list of what you should to do or not if you are stopped for questioning by the police. It is not a definitive list, but simple guidelines to help you safely deal with law enforcement.
Police Abuse: What to do if you are stopped while Driving
1. Think carefully. Choose your words and actions with care. Remain calm. Avoid quick movements.
2. Don’t get into an argument or loose your temper. Anything you say or do can be held against you.
3. Don’t run. Don’t touch the officer. It can be used as a reason to arrest you.
4. Don’t resist. Even if you are innocent, resisting alone is a reason to arrest you.
5. Don’t complain. Making a scene or threatening to file a compliant only makes the situation escalate.
6. Do not make any statements regarding the incident. Ask for a lawyer.
7. Write everything down and remember the officer’s name, badge number and patrol car number.
8. Try to find witnesses. Get their name and addresses.
9. If you are injured, document the injuries with medical reports and photographs.
10. If your rights have been violated, file a complaint with the police department’s internal affairs division or civilian complaint board.
If you are stopped in your car:
1. Upon request, show them your driver’s license, registration and proof of insurance. In certain cases, your car can be searched without a warrant as long as the police have probable cause. To protect yourself later, make it clear that you do not consent to the search. It is not lawful for police to arrest you for simply refusing to consent to a search. (From personal experience, I recommend that you drive with your information readily available. I used to drive with my purse in the back seat. When I was stopped, I told the officer that my information was in the back seat; he told me to get it, but when I tried to open the door, he used it as excuse to harass and arrest me. My purse is now on the passenger seat when I drive and all my information is easily accessible.)
2. If you’re given a ticket, you should sign it; otherwise, you can be arrested. You can always fight it in court later.
3. If you are suspected of driving under the influence and refuse to take a blood, urine or breathe test, your driver’s license may be suspended.
If you are arrested and taken to the police station:
1. You have the right to remain silent and to talk to an attorney before you talk to the police. Tell the police nothing except your name and address. Don’t give any explanations, excuses or stories. Make your defense later in court based on what you and your lawyer decides is the best course of action.
2. Ask to see a lawyer immediately. If you can’t pay for one, you have right to free one and should ask the police how the lawyer can be contacted. Don’t say anything without a lawyer.
3. Within a reasonable time after your arrest or booking, you have the right to make a local phone call. The police may not listen to the call to the lawyer.
4. Sometimes you can be released without bail or to have the bail lowered. Have your lawyer ask the judge. You must be taken before the judge on the next court day after the arrest.
If the police come to your home:
1. If the police knock and ask to enter your home, you don’t have to admit them unless they have a warrant signed by a judge.
2. The exception is during an emergency situation. For example if a person is screaming for help inside or if the police are chasing someone and they enter.
3. If you are arrested, the police can search you and the area close to you. If you are in a building, close and mean up to the room you are in.
Everyone is entitled to courteous and respectful treatment by the police. If your rights have been violated, don’t deal with it at the moment. Talk to a lawyer afterwards or file a complaint with the Civilian Complaint Board or Internal Affairs.
Police Abuse: Wiccans Beware–
Staff Writer: Theresa Chaze
Police ignoring civil rights has become a harsh reality for not only Wiccans and Pagans, but also every other minority. No longer does the First Amendment provide freedom of religion, speech, to gather and engage in peaceful demonstration. No longer does the Fourth Amendment guarantee your home, car or business will not be searched without a warrant signed by a judge. Instead, there are a growing number of law enforcement officers who believe they are above the law; they see themselves not as public servants, but public masters who should not be questioned or criticized. Instead, they should be blindly and meekly obeyed. To do otherwise is to risk being harassed, physically attacked and jailed with little cause.
Under the banner of self-defense, police have used traffic stops to justify warrant less searches. Such was the case of a northern Michigan Wiccan Priestess. Returning home from work, she was stopped. The Deputy initially refused to disclose why she was pulled over. Instead, he ordered her from her vehicle and searched it without her consent. In the bottom of her purse, he found a small athame set–the largest knife was under three inches, but it had a double edged blade. He arrested her; however, he refused to notify her of the reason for the stop or the arrest until they reached the jail. At that time, she was informed she was stopped for swerving twice in the several miles he had followed her, but she arrested and charged for felony-concealed weapon for having daggers in her purse. She did not threaten him, nor was she given an opportunity to explain why she had the athames. Several attempts were made a paying her bond, however the deputies on duty misrepresented the facts and she was held for over fifteen hours. During such time, she was denied medication for her asthma and proper nutrition for her hypoglycemia. Instead, the wheels of justice rolled over her civil rights. Although she had a clean record and the officer had a history of alcohol abuse, lying on the stand and violence against women, her court appointed attorney informed her that she would not win in spite of the illegal search and her religious path. In Michigan, double edge knifes, no matter what size are illegal. The attorney’s stance was that nothing else was pertinent to the case. Eventually the case was settled and the charges dropped to much lesser charge. But justice was far from being served.
Physically an athame is usually a double edge blade of varying sized, frequently with a black handle and a dull blade. However, its magical definition is ritual knife that is use only for the direction of energy. It is used in ritual for creating protective circles and calling the elements. Using it for a mundane purpose would contaminate it and make it unsuitable for ritual work until it had been cleansed and reblessed. A Boline is used for cutting and all other ritual needs. Kitchen witches are an exception to this rule; they believe that by using their tools daily increases their connection to them. Whether an athame or Boline, neither are to be used as a physical weapon. To do so would destroy their positive spiritual quality and attract the negative aspects of the universe.
In the case of the northern Michigan Priestess, if it hadn’t been for the illegal search of her purse, the athames wouldn’t have been an issue. They could have not been produce or used to threaten the officer or anyone else without destroying their religious power. The District Attorney’s office was informed of their religious significance; initially they agreed she had a defense under the First Amendment, however their stance changed without reason, claiming the Priestess told the officer they were for self-defense. By sheer definition of her spiritual beliefs, it is obvious that statement was untrue and the officer lied. Yet, even though he violated her First and Fourth Amendment rights, his word would carry more weigh by the court even though he had a history of deceit and violence against women.
Every state has their own laws pertaining to the legalities of what is considered a weapon. Before carrying your religious tools make you know what the specific requirements of your state are. In some cases, it would be wise to obtain a concealed weapons permit if you will be traveling with your Athame and Boline. By going to http://pweb.netcom.com/~brlevine/sta-law.htm you can find an abridge listing of knife laws by state. It is only a starting point and should not be considered definitive legal advice.
Energy Reading for January 2007
Staff Writer: Theresa Chaze
The energy reading for January 2007 is going to signal the completion of many aspects of our lives. As the year ends, old tasks, behaviors and lifestyles will close like the cover a novel after the last page has been read. It is the turning of the energy tide as it rises up in preparation of 2012. Many will have sad regrets of what was, could have been, or is no longer. To look back in retrospect is a healing way of putting the future into perspective, however to get stuck there is to deny yourself the future possibilities.
As I was shuffling, the Queen of Pentacles jumped out and wanted attention. This is the card of the strong feminine energy that is coming back to the forefront of consciousness. With it comes the balancing of the power between our feminine and masculine halves. No longer will it be acceptable or satisfying to be only half a person. Those who stubbornly insist on living only as a halfling will find themselves alone, no longer accepted by peers and loved ones as they reach for competition within themselves. It is a time of balancing of karma and the bringing of justice. No one will be able to hide from the karmic bill that is coming due.
In the past is the Empress. Strong, fertile and creative this card reveals how many of us have grown out of the struggles we have faced. We have wiggled free from the old snake’s skin to look forward to the new challenges before us. As the butterfly, we have escaped the cocoon, transformed and strengthened by the struggle; we now sit in the sun, waiting for our wings to dry before taking flight. The world is now open to us; we only have to decide which breeze to take to give us liftoff. I see a gathering on a mountain. Not a physical one, but one of the spirit. Many have climbed, flown or descended to the summit. They have one goal–enlightenment for themselves, which in turn awakens all around them. Through the struggles of their awakening, they have come together on this spiritual plane and are now ready to do so on the physical. In the not to distant future, the collaboration will be come a reality to all; in doing so the power shift will be brought to the public and the darkness will be revealed.
In the present is the eight of swords. In many ways we are emotionally torn. There is a great difference between what we feel with our soul and what we are experiencing emotionally and physically. All around we see and experience the power struggles and conflicts. We feel powerless like the fall leaves in a winter wind. Yet these are the last challenges; the last tempering and sharpening of the sword to make it an effective weapon. So we are experiencing the finally cleansing of our souls and spirits. It may not be a good time right now, but once we come out the other side we will be grateful for the wisdom and strength we have been blessed with.
The future is the Star. The fact that there are two major arcana in this reading speaks to how the Divine is intervening in all our lives. The Star says keep your faith, hope and focus on the goals. What is it that you are reaching for? It is closer than you realize. Claim it and it will be yours. Before the first full week’s ending, those who have done the work and allow it to happen will have reached the first of their goals. In doing so, they will be beacons for the rest to follow. By opening up and accepting, without judgment, we give ourselves access to all the knowledge, wisdom and energy of the Divine.
The challenge we will all face is the two of wands. The key words are balance and perseverance. The only limits on your success are the ones you and your imagine place on yourself. As we have come together to find harmony and union, so we will create success for each other and become examples for others to emulate. The material world will now reflect the spiritual beauty within us. Where we walk we will not only plant the seeds of wisdom and respect, but we will nurture them into growth. The awakening has begun.
There are several I speak to directly. Now is not the time to give into the dark path you have walked away from before. It would be so easy to give into the anger and the fear–so easy to do harm in the name of helping one you love. Your challenge is to keep on the path of light and love. Instead of the dark arts, approach the challenge from love. What would it take for someone to change your mind? Use that tack and you will be able to achieve your goal without doing harm to yourself. Soul to soul, speak to the other. Tell it how much you love and wish them to change. Show them that how harming other does not make them stronger, only less respected by those you wish with your whole heart to impress. In this way, you both will heal.
Wheel of the Year: Part Two
Solitary Witch Staff Writer: Agate
Family
INBOX:
To: Artemesia
From: Lovrrgrrl
Where are you, Jilly? I’ll find you. You can’t hide forever.
Devoted Always,
Alia
I had a dream last night I was in a secluded wooded area, like many I have stopped in along the way. I think I was praying, maybe meditating, when Alia caught up with me. Frozen in fear, the next thing I knew my arms and legs stretched out to stakes in the ground. Alia stood over me with an axe in her hand. From somewhere firelight flickered grotesque shadow masks over her face.
“You’re never gonna run away again, my love,” and then she swung the ax.
First, she chopped at my feet, then up to my knees, then my thighs. I screamed and screamed while Alia, tears running down her bright ecstatic face cried, “You made me do this darling, you made me do this!”
I woke up in my car, sitting upright, hitting the steering wheel, my own cries echoing in my ears. Stumbling out, I ran to the river I parked near and splashed icy water on my face. My hands trembled and my empty stomach rolled.
This was the third nightmare this week. Sometimes I felt I would never be free of her.
INBOX:
To: Artemesia
From: Rosemary65
Where are you? Are you okay? My readings say yes, but until I hear from you, I won’t be at ease. Please email me ASAP. I need to hear from you.
Rosemary
Money was on my mind. I wasn’t broke yet, but my meandering journey would soon eat up the rest. Just after Samhain the pendulum began guiding back in a southerly direction, not straight down on the map, but not much forward either. I drove about eight hours a day, sleeping in the car at night, usually just off a side road. I bought only food and gas most of the time, but there were unexpected expenses too, like snow chains when I got caught in a storm, a couple extra blankets and an increase in coffee consumption. Unplanned for since my original plan was that the trip would take only two weeks at most; I was entering month three now. It seemed strange to me that it should take so long, but the advantage was not coming across Alia in all that time. If I could make it to Rosemary’s without meeting up with my ex, then the trip could take all year.
That being said, I was going to need more cash eventually and it would be better to get it before my savings ran out.
The town I stopped in was medium size. Lots of traffic and people, but no buildings over four stories high. It had an old fashioned feel to it, but the modern stucco storefronts and box-like office buildings would soon kill the nostalgia. When I stopped to get gas, I checked the phone book hanging at a payphone; it listed one metaphysical store called Hecate’s Realm. I checked the little local map at the front of the book and was relieved to find out the street was actually big enough to make it onto the map.
I decided to look for work at the metaphysical stores first, see if they had any odd jobs; it was a long shot, but I’d give it a try. If that didn’t work, I’d look in the want ads. You could find short jobs like sign holding, but frankly, I’d rather clean a store, than stand on a corner all day being a portable billboard.
Hecate’s Realm occupied the bottom floor of a large slate blue Victorian house with burgundy and gold accents. The front porch that lead to the store had potted plants around the railings and a little table and chairs. The inside of the store was a soft butter yellow with white moldings, wood floors accented with thick throw rugs, and lots of display space. The building layout remained true to its original intentions and still had separate rooms, a bathroom and a kitchen. The store was well stocked with all the little things to make a witch’s wallet catch fire. Good thing I left mine in the car.
There were two women in the store, both wearing long, flowing skirts, though one wore a tailored jacket and her dark hair in a bun. The other looked at me and smiled a look-a-new-customer smile. I guessed she was the owner.
She glided over all rippling material and red hair and greeted me. “Is there anything I can help you find?”
Right, here was the hard part, dashing her potential sales hope and trying to convince her a perfect stranger wanted work and wouldn’t rip her off.
“Actually, I am looking for an odd job for the day.”
Her smile fell. “I don’t really—“
“I know, you don’t know me and probably even if you did you wouldn’t be in the market for a temp, but I’m trying to get cross country in my car and need to earn a little cash along the way. My name is Jillian Connors and I can do whatever menial task you might need done and I’ll even fill out paperwork if you want a record of it.”
“I’m sorry, Ms. Connors—“
“Jillian?” The other woman joined us and she sounded like she knew me.
“Um, yeah,” I said put off by her familiarity.
Her smile widened. “I’m Thalia, from the online group.”
Thalia, yeah I remembered the name and returned her smile.
“We’ve been so worried about you.”
“You have?”
“Yes, ever since you started out we’ve all waited for reports from Rosemary, but she hasn’t heard from you in weeks and is nearly frantic.”
“I haven’t found a library with Internet access lately and I don’t want to use my money at a cyber café.”
“You know her?” asked the storeowner.
“As well as you can know someone online. I told you about her.”
“That was months ago, aren’t’ you a little off course?”
“My ex found out and came after me. I’m taking the scenic route in the hope we won’t cross paths.” I really wasn’t eager to talk about it, but I wanted a job if she had one for me. She didn’t look impressed.
“You must come to my house tonight,” said Thalia happily. “You can contact Rosemary, get a good dinner and a place to sleep tonight.”
“I really can’t afford-“
“Nonsense. You are a member of the group. You can tell me all about your journey so far.”
“Um-okay,” I was a little unsure about it, but the idea of sleeping flat rather than in my car’s bucket seat was too good to pass up.
Thalia scribbled something on a piece of paper and handed it to me. “I don’t live far away, here’s a map and my address. I have to head back to work, but I’ll be home by five.”
“Thanks.”
She turned to the storeowner. “Come on, Cinda, you must have something she can do for a few hours. I’ll vouch for her, and if I’m wrong, I’ll make up for it. Didn’t you say that the back area needed some work done?”
Lucinda looked me over again, not entirely convinced I was worth the risk, but she must like Thalia because she agreed. Thrilled, Thalia practically bounced out the front door.
While Wanda, the owner of the Magic Wand was open and warm to everyone; Lucinda Higgins had a coolness about her that bordered on disapproval. Maybe she’d been burned by an ex employee or maybe she was one of those people who preferred to do everything themselves, maybe it was just me, but I wasn’t feeling the love. Lucinda led me out through a kitchen filled with dried herbs, bottles filled with oils and packaging supplies, and out into a large backyard of damp greenery and statuary.
“This is yours too.”
“The whole building is mine. I live upstairs.”
“Cool.”
She smiled a little. The backyard was overgrown and in desperate need of some hard work and it was going to take a lot of it to get it done by the time the sun went down.
“I hurt my back a couple of months ago and haven’t been able to do any yard work,” she said. “I used to hold esbats and sabbats back here. Do a good job and I’ll pay you $100.
“That’s an awful lot.”
“I’d pay gardeners that or even more for the same amount of work.”
I glanced at the tall grass. “Do you have a lawn mower?”
She pulled a key off her key ring and pointed to a small shed tucked in at the side of the house. “All the tools you need are in there. The garbage cans are outside the gate.”
I nodded, walking over to the shed. There was a large rosemary bush by the edge of the porch. I ran my fingers through the branches, inhaled the rich scent and it reminded me of its namesake. Rosemary in California was worried about me. I was surprised by how nice it was to she was.
I put every ounce of energy I had into cleaning up that yard and was grateful for Thalia’s invite. I was going to need a real shower tonight.
The yard wasn’t big, but the grass was thick and damp from a recent rain, and the mower, not self-propelled, had a bit of trouble going over it, but I finally got it done. Six tall statues of Gods and Goddesses around the fence edge that were in danger of disappearing among overgrown bushes, herbs and weeds. I pulled out what I knew to be weeds and waited to ask Lucinda about anything else; clipped the bushes back and saved whatever herbs I trimmed. When she came out at about 3 pm with iced tea, I handed her the pile of cuttings.
“Good job,” she said as she glanced over the yard.”
“There are a few things I didn’t pull because I’m not sure if they are keepers or not. If you check, I’ll get whatever is left.”
“In a few minutes. Take a break.” She pointed to a bench beside the porch and handed me a glass. It tasted good; peppermint and something floral, I took a long swallow.
“Thanks, I didn’t realize I was so thirsty.”
“I am impressed,” she said, still looking out across the yard. “You got quite a bit done already.
“Just making sure you get your money’s worth.”
“Most people your age wouldn’t try so hard.”
I only shrugged.
“Why would you pick up and move across the country to stay with a stranger?”
“Habit, I guess,” I took a bite of gingersnap cookie.
“What do you mean?”
“Used to be a foster kid.”
“Oh. What happened to your parents?”
“Don’t know,” I avoided her gaze, brushing the cookie crumbs from my muddy jeans. “Don’t care anymore.”
She pondered that answer, but decided not to push it. “Does it worry you, going so far to meet a stranger?”
“It probably should,” I said. “But not really. I’ve decided to go where Goddess leads. I guess its called faith.”
“I’ve lived in this town my entire life, changing houses felt traumatic. I don’t think I could ever do what you are.”
”You could if there wasn’t anything else for you where you were.” I gulped the rest of my tea. “I’d better get back to work.”
She watched me from the porch for a minute before coming down to point out the weeds, and then she returned to her store. I didn’t like talking about my absent parents. Her asking was natural, but that didn’t make it an easy topic to speak about, besides it always felt as though I was feeling sorry for myself.
I threw myself back into the work. When I was growing up, there were always chores to do, no matter what home I lived in. I didn’t mind most of the time, but I preferred the yard work to doing the dishes. The fresh scent of cut grass or newly turned soil, dark and cool in my fingers; flowers, heads heavy with petals, their scents wafting around me; the crackle of fall leaves beneath my feet; birds, bugs, even little critters checking me out as I worked around their homes all made me feel at ease and relaxed. Being a girl though, most people seemed to think I belonged in the kitchen; it was a rare and much cherished time to be sent out to mow and hoe.
It was something I really missed in apartment living. I didn’t seem as capable keeping my indoor plants alive and they lacked all those sensations I found so comforting,
For a few more hours, I lost myself in more weeding, washing of statues, raking and watering. Washing the statues became an almost ritualistic task as I scrubbed mud and moss, bird crap and tree sap from each stone Goddess and God that resided in the yard.
When I was done, I looked at my handiwork with a feeling of satisfaction. The yard was ready for the next full moon.
Lucinda came out, looked about and smiled a real and genuine smile of delight. “It looks wonderful. I didn’t imagine you’d get so much done in so few hours.”
“Thanks.”
“Go ahead, put the tools away. You can wash up in the kitchen, then I’ll pay you.”
So I did just that, locked the shed back up, washed up and laid the key on the counter next to the register she stood behind. She handed me an envelope. I counted six $20 bills.
“You gave me too much.”
“No. You did more than just a job for me; I’ve been longing to have a ritual since I fell. Now I can and much sooner than I thought. I’m glad I listened to Thalia.”
“Me, too.”
“I don’t know when you’re getting back on the road, but stop by on your way out. Good luck, Jillian.”
“Thanks.”
It was five thirty and almost dark when I got back in my car. I opened the envelope to put my earnings with the rest of my cash and saw the business card finally. Lucinda’s email address was underlined and “Keep in touch” was written on the back. Maybe Lucinda wasn’t like Wanda on the outside, but she had the same heart. Tucking the card into my wallet, I followed Thalia’s map to her home.
Thalia lived in a middle class neighborhood of older houses painted white, tan or golden yellow. All had neatly manicured lawns, 2 cars in the driveway and probably had the requisite 2.5 kids running around the interiors; the sort of places I moved in and out of 50 times or so. My enthusiasm began to wane.
Then I saw Thalia’s house, which in this neighborhood of blending in, stood out like a shaved cat.
Her house was a cottage, painted a dark grayish purple with white shutters. Cut glass crystals sparkled in the windows. The path to the porch meandered in long curves across the lawn of tiny plants still speckled with purple and orange wildflowers. A small birdbath brightly mosaic with a sun sat in one curve. Herbs and flowers surrounded the house and hanging on the porch wall was a rust colored metal witch on a broom. No, Thalia’s home was not going to remind me of any past experiences.
As I got out of my car, a head with black braids popped up from behind some tall yellowing flower stalks. The girl was about nine years old; she stared at me a moment then leapt to her feet and into the house calling “Mom”.
I hadn’t considered a family when Thalia asked me to come. I wondered what they would think of an unanticipated guest. I decided if things felt tense, I’d move on after the shower.
For a minute, I wondered if I should bring a bag in now or wait a while until she brought it up. What was the etiquette? I was still deciding when Thalia came bouncing out of the house. She smiled broadly and ran out to me, her feet bare, dark hair hanging free of his previous confines, and a shawl draped over her camisole. She hugged me noticing neither my surprise nor lack of return.
“I’ve been looking forward to seeing you again all day.”
“Um, Thanks.”
“I’ve been so excited. I want to hear all about you and your travels and oh my, you are dirty, Lucinda worked you hard, well, I hope she paid you well. Go ahead, grab what you need, is this your dirty laundry, good we’ll get that cleaned up too. I told Ana and Gabe, that’s my daughter and husband, all about you and they are eager to meet you. Now don’t you worry about being a bother, our home is yours for however long you decide to stay…”
She talked all the way into the house, one arm draped around me, the other carrying the laundry.
I got the impression she really was glad to see me.
Ana and Gabe, while they lacked Thalia’s exuberance, were genuinely nice to me. A little shy at first, Ana kept her distance, but like any proud mother, Thalia embarrassed the hell out of her, gloating about Ana’s artistic abilities. Reluctantly, the girl showed me some of her drawings, which were very good, and she warmed up to me after I said so.
Gabe, who was stay at home dad, did woodworking in the garage, carving statues and turned bowls, most of which were sold online and at nearby festivals. He only shook my hand, but his smile was warm and welcoming
Apparently, art was a family trait because Thalia also made jewelry, metal pendants that she created and sold.
The house had a well-loved cluttered feel, not dirty or messy, just full of art, books, and other treasures. It was also small and didn’t have spare bedroom, so I would be sleeping on the couch. After two months of sleeping in the car, the couch was the lap of luxury. In fact, the whole evening was turning out luxurious. A real shower that wasn’t run by quarters, soft towels and a home cooked dinner almost ready when I dried off, spreading delicious aromas through the house.
In the dining room, Ana did homework and I could hear machines in the garage, so I guessed Gabe was working. I followed the smells to the kitchen where Thalia was tossing fresh herbs into a pot of soup.
She flashed me a smile. “I’ll bet you feel better now.”
“Yes, thank you. It’s been a long time since I had a real shower.”
“You’ve been very quiet since you got here,” she laughed. “But I suppose that’s my fault. I do tend to prattle on, its one of my greatest faults and—I’ll have to work on it, not talk about it.”
“It’s all right. I’m not really much of a talker anyway. It would be much worse if we were sitting in silence.”
“How has the journey been?”
“Longer than expected.”
“How did you end up here?”
“I let the pendulum decide the direction. With Alia out there somewhere I’ve been too afraid to take a straight line, but sometimes I wonder if I am doing the right thing.”
“It sounds like a wonderful adventure. You should enjoy it.”
“It’s taking so long, I’m worried about running out of money.”
“Why don’t you stay here a little while? Saturday, there’s a winter festival, you could help us with our booth, and we’ll pay you. And maybe I could find you a temp job. You might earn enough not to have to worry for awhile.”
“I don’t know.”
“Just think about it. Yule is in about two weeks; you shouldn’t be out alone on the road. We’re having a party, you should be here.”
“That’s an long time to impose.” Two and a half weeks seemed like a long time to stay in one place. What if I overstayed my welcome or even worse, Alia decided to come this way?
“What imposition? I invited you. Well, at least stay the week and do the festival. We usually do well before Yule, people buying gifts and ritual stuff, we could pay you a decent amount.”
“Okay,” I agreed. Yule with Thalia and her family might be nice, but I would keep an eye out in case they got tired of me.
INBOX:
To Artemesia
From Rosemary65
Oh, I’ve been so worried about you. What a relief to know that you are okay and still headed my way.
I know you are letting the pendulum decide the way, but it’s taking so long. I worry that the longer you are out there alone, the more likely some harm may come to you.
Please be careful
Rosemary.
I didn’t do much working the next two days. Mostly, I helped with chores and Ana’s homework, caught up with my emails, reassuring Rosemary and Wanda I was okay. Gabe taught me what I would need to know for Saturdays’ festival like pricing and bartering. Then there was the problem of the costume. They liked to dress up for festivals and preferred I did so as well. It had to have a ‘magickal’ feel to it. I had no clue. I don’t dress up in costumes, never had much reason, and I didn’t want to spend any money on anything I wouldn’t use again.
My ritual robe was about to do double duty until Friday evening, when a beaming Ana brought out a large box and set it on the coffee table in front of me. My three friends had broad smiles and I was almost afraid a joke was being played on me.
“Open it,” said Ana, her hands clasped tightly in front of her as though trying not to do it herself.
I glanced at Thalia and Gabe. “Go on,” they urged.
Slowly, I opened the box and lifted a piece of crumpled tissue paper. A bundle of red embossed fabric expanded above the confines of the box. I reached out, my fingers sliding across the soft surface.
“What’s this?” I asked, confused.
“You’re costume, or at least part of it. “I’ve got an old black dress, pre-childbirth days, you can wear, maybe a red sash at your waist and this—“ Thalia lifted the gift, shaking it out with flourish.” “Can go over it.”
Air blew over me as the heavy fabric billowed out, becoming a cloak. The red was burgundy at the hem, lightening into an orange-red at the collar. On the back a huge embossed bird rose out of flames.”
“A phoenix.”
“Yes. Lucinda didn’t have a lot left to choose from, but this one just struck me as being perfect for you.”
“You’re giving this to me?” I hadn’t expected it be a gift.
“Yes.”
“It must have been expensive. You—“
“Don’t you dare say I shouldn’t have, Jillian. I wanted to, and that is reason enough. Just think of it as an early Yule gift.”
Ana grabbed my hand and pulled until I stood. “Just say thank you, and try it on already.”
I smiled and did as instructed. The robe felt heavy and warm, not at all like the light robe I used in ritual.
“It’s perfect,” said Thalia, hugging me. “You’ll look wonderful tomorrow.”
“Thank you,” I murmured.
“Oh and I’ve got one more bit of wonderful news. My boss needs a temp for a week of data entry. Boring work, but if you want it, he’ll pay $10 an hour, 40 hours for the week. You won’t have to worry about money for a little while.”
“I’ll take it.”
“Good. We’ll have the same hours, you can go with me Monday morning.”
Then it was dinnertime.
We arrived at the Winter Festival early in order to set up. Gabe and Thalia moved with practice speed, setting up the awning, tables and shelves as Ana and I unwrapped the merchandise. I was the only one not selling anything today, although, even if I had time to make things I simply didn’t have the talent.
I was beginning to envy Ana her supportive family who encouraged her artistic endeavors with such enthusiasm. I had a feeling she could draw a squiggly line in green Crayon and Thalia would proudly display it as framed art; even my greatest efforts as a child barely rated a ‘that’s nice’ or a spot on the fridge.
I tried not to be jealous.
But I was.
So, I threw myself into the work, greeting customers and selling the artistic works of the three people who treated me so kindly. Halfway through the day Thalia chased me out, ordering me to take a break, so I wandered through the indoor/outdoor festival looking at booths and watched a belly-dancing troupe. Every once in a while I caught sight of the Goth teens with their dark eyeliner, multi-hued hair and wild ‘darkside’ costumes, their moods alternating between cool indifference and childlike glee as they wandered the festival in packs. The crowd was a motley crew of fairies, hairy-legged gods and gypsy women in flowing skirts and caftans that filled the festival. I could imagine what might go through an outsider’s mind, why they might find us weird, but for the first time, dressed like Merlin’s daughter, I fit into the crowd; I belonged, even if I was a total stranger.
I bought a few things too. I wouldn’t have usually, well maybe some incense or something equally inexpensive, but these weren’t for me. I bought a small double edged blade for Gabe to use as a Athame, a burned out velvet shawl for Thalia, and a brightly colored bag with many pockets where I tucked a leather bound blank book for Ana and her art.
I’d surprised myself. I wanted to stay for Yule. They treated me like family, a cousin maybe, a welcome guest they loved; it would be nice to spend Yule like that. Christmases growing up hadn’t been terrible, I always got some sort of a gift, but something was always missing.
So I would stay for a little longer, work at Thalia’s job for the week and maybe have a real holiday this year. And a real holiday meant giving gifts, they had already given me more than I ever expected.
The festival was successful. With most of the stock gone, we lowered what was left to half price for the last hour and sold the rest. All we had to carry back to the car at the end of the day was the “store”. We laughed and talked with others from the festival late into the evening before grabbing some fast food at the drive through and finally heading back to the house. We agreed unanimously to unpack the car in the morning and we walked wearily into the house. Thalia put an arm around my shoulders.
“So have you thought about Yule, Hon?”
“I’d like to stay if you still want me.”
“Yeah,” the family cheered and Thalia hugged me tight.
Thalia was right, the data entry work was mind numbingly boring and I fantasized about mowing a lawn in the rain, but I persevered, after all it was only for the week. The paycheck was well worth it. Between that and my percentage of the festival take, I felt more at ease about money. I spent the last days before Yule at the house, helping with chores, and tending the yard. Gabe taught me a little carving, but my block of wood only resembled a misshapen block of wood when I was finished. I had a little better luck stringing beads with Thalia. I won’t claim my string of multi-colored seed beads was artistic brilliance, but it looked nice with one of Thalia’s small Goddess pendants hanging from it.
It felt like home, that little cottage and I found myself wondering if I should leave. Maybe this was the family I had always wanted; I could find my own place nearby. Sometimes Thalia and Ana spoke as if I was not going to leave.
Then there was Rosemary waiting in California. Part of me was afraid that she would change her mind by the time I did get there. Another part of me was afraid I was doing everything wrong: was that what you call a crisis of faith?
Torn, I did what had often done during my trip; I pulled out my pendulum and asked. Should I stay? It swung a wide and definite no. That settled it; I’d stay until the holiday travelers went home. I’d miss this little family a lot, but families stayed family right? I hope that included extended family because really that was all I’d ever have.
Yule began as a frantic day as we all spent the day getting the house and ourselves ready for the party/ritual. All of my stuff was packed into Ana’s room, decorations put out, a ritual table placed in the center of the room, there was even a new Yule log in the fireplace waiting to be lit.
When hundreds of colored lights sparkled and the house smelled of cinnamon and peppermint, Ana jumped up, shouting, “Present time!”
I handed out my gifts not expecting anything in return. After all, they had let me live with them, fed me, bought me an expensive cape, so I was surprised to discover three packages being handed my way.
Thalia gave me a brooch shaped as a phoenix with a red garnet in its chest, a new design she created just for me “To wear with your new cape.”
Gabe had been busy as well. “I know you might be running out of room in that ritual box of yours, but I thought you might like it.”
Like it? Was he kidding? It was a plaque about 12 inches in diameter with Artemis carved in bas-relief on the face of the moon. Her bow was drawn and pulled forming a crescent moon along the disc’s edge. The pale wood grain showed through a light color wash: a green tunic, gold hair, and the pearlescent white in the background.
“It’s beautiful Gabe, I’ll make room for it. Thank you.”
Ana’s gift was last. I unwrapped a black 8x10 frame with a family portrait drawn with incredible detail by Ana with charcoal pencils. But I was in the portrait, sitting in front of Thalia and Gabe, Ana on one knee, as though I was part of the family: like I was her sister.
“I don’t want you to forget us when you leave,” she said, a sadness in her voice.
I wiped tears from my eyes and smiled at her. “I won’t, thank you. I’ve never been in a family portrait before. I’m honored.”
Ana hugged me. Once more, the thought of staying flashed through my head, but there was little time for that as the doorbell rang and the first Yule guest arrived.
“Do you have to go?” asked Ana, tears shimmering in her eyes.
The day had come to move on. The longer I stayed, the harder it was to leave and the more comfortable I felt. The pendulum said to go and I either had faith or not, that was all there was to it.
“Yes, I do, honey, but I’ll miss you so you send me lots of emails and pictures of your drawings, okay?”
She nodded, not meeting my eyes.
I hugged her. “Bye Ana.”
I stood up and Thalia hugged me tightly. “I won’t ask again, I know Rosemary is waiting for you, but if you don’t find California to be your kind of place, you come back here.”
“Okay.”
Gabe kissed my cheek. “Good luck, Jillian, you’re part of this family now, you keep in touch.”
“I will. I am going to miss you. Maybe I’ll be able to come back and visit again.”
“We’ve been thinking,” said Thalia. “There’s a big festival every year in California, we thought we might attend it, sell some of our stuff. We don’t know when you’ll get to Rosemary’s but we could do the first one you are there for, get together again.”
I opened the car door, though I didn’t want to get in. “I’m going now. Bye.”
We all hugged one more time, and then I left. My last glance back was of them waving goodbye. I waved out the window just before turning the corner.
I was back on the road again.
INBOX:
To Artemesia
From Wanda
How goes the journey, sweetie? I miss you a lot and can’t wait for an update.
I haven’t seen Alia for a long time, but Jason, a friend of hers, says she’s on the road. He tried to talk her out of it, but no luck. Alia is determined to find you.
Be careful, Jillian, the cards still warn of danger. I can’t help but feel you’re going to meet up with her before this is over.
Wanda.
To be continued…
Frankincense and Myrrh
Frankincense
Latin Name: Boswellia carterii
Folk Names: Olibans, Olibanum, Olibanus
Gender: Masculine, Hot
Planet: Sun
Element: Fire
Deities: Ra, Baal
Part Used: Gum
Powers: Protection, Exorcisms, Spirituality, Purifications, Consecrations
Ritual Uses: Burnt at dawn to honour the arising Sun God Ra.
It is included in some of the ritual incenses used by the Catholic Church.
Magickal Uses: When burned uplifts vibrations and energizes but also aids in
driving out ‘evil’ and negativity. It is also burned to assist in meditations
and visulizations [vision quests]. Added to sachets for luck, spiritual growth
and protection.
Myrrh
Latin Name: Commiphora Myrra
Folk Names: Gum Pyrrh, Karah, Mirra Balsom Odendron
Gender: Feminine
Planet: Moon
Element: Water
Deities: Isis, Ra, Adonis, Marion
Part Used: Resin
Powers: Protection, Exorcism, Healing, Spirituality
Ritual Uses: Myyrh was burned for Ra at Noon,
and was also fumed in the Temples of Isis.
Magickal Uses: Myrrh, in combination with Frankincense,
is burned to purify an area, lift the vibrations and create peace.
Myrrh is rarely burned by itself. Myrrh increases the power
and effectiveness of the incense to which it is added.
It is also used in sachets.
Frankincense and Myrrh are often considered two of the gifts
presented to the Baby Christos by the Wise Men of ther East.
It is not known exactly whom these traveling Wise Men were
but since they had - at that time - the rare and valuable spices
Frankincense and Myrrh they could possibly have been
Traders or Monks/Priests from the East - even possibly China.
Many ancient predictions and prophesies were purportedly
fulfilled by the Bethlehem Nativity. Not all of the predictions
and prophedies were Biblical.
References:
1) Cunningham Encyclopeadia of Magickal Herbs
Scott Cunningham
Second Edition
© 1988 Scott Cunningham & 2000 Scott Cunningham Estate
Lewellyn Publications
www.llewellyn.com
Sagittarious Facts
Your spirit is lifted now by wonderful conversations that deepen connections with friends and family. You could get so excited, however, that you get on someone else’s case. Although your intention is not malicious, it may be difficult to back down from a developing confrontation. Self discipline works much better than trying to control anyone else.
Sagittarious Facts
Ninth Sign
Mutable Fire
Body Parts: Hips and Thighs
Ruling Planet: Jupiter
Key Words: Honesty, Exploration, Idealism
Personal Traits
Sagittarians are free spirits with a friendly, independent style. They dislike being tied down and are incurable idealists, always looking to expand their horizons and improve their lot. Optimistic and easy going, they have a love of truth, honesty, and justice that gives them a very philosophical approach to life.
Planets and Other Information
Ruled by the planet Jupiter, they express what is ever on their minds, with an honesty that is startling in its directness. Through their constant need for expansion, they often turn to higher learning and enjoy exploring subjects such as philosophy, religion, travel, and law. Some Sagittarians are more sporty than intellectual an get their excitement from playing the game. Whatever they do, they do in style. Often indulging in the best. Enthusiastic, warm and generous, wearing their hearts on their sleeves, they, like the archer, aim their arrows far into the distance. They know how to enjoy themselves and are eager for the adventure.
Press Release: Volume 2, Living A Magical Life
Comining in March of 2007 by writer Melissa Anderson
Volume 2, Living A Magical Life will be hitting
the market in March 2007. The book is a step by step guide to living that
simple magic life and placing yourself in sphere of magic whereas all things
generate automatically. It includes many ancient recipes for a daily ritual.
Quote by author:
The books I write attempt t remove the pompous rituals of the past and place
the practitioner in a magical life. Of course some of the rituals are
necessary and the rules and spirituality of magic are quite defined.
If you have had the opportunity to read Ancient Rituals you will wish to put the March date on your calendar.
The Pagan and Occult Author Resource Page
The Pagan and Occult Author Resource Page
SEATTLE, WA – November 25, 2006
After several months of updates and design changes, authors Taylor Ellwood and Lupa would like to announce the rebirth of the Pagan and Occult Author Resource Page. Located at http://www.thegreenwolf.com/poarp.html, this is an extensive collection of resources specifically aimed towards writers in the pagan and occult nonfiction genres.
In 2004, Taylor published his first solo book, Pop Culture Magick. In the process, he realized that there was no central resource available to new occult authors navigating the ins and outs of writing, editing, publishing, and promoting nonfiction texts. He collected the resources he had gathered in his own research, arranged them online, and the Occult Author Resource Page was born.
Fast forward to 2006. Taylor and his new wife, friend and fellow author Lupa, decided to revamp the OARP. They moved everything over to their joint site, weeded out the dead links, and spent weeks adding even more essays, tips and links of interest to authors. Because the information was relevant to pagan as well as occult authors, the name was changed, and the OARP became the POARP.
Since then, Taylor and Lupa have been adding to the POARP on a consistent basis. The basics of the OARP have been retained: magazines and other publications for authors to submit their articles and review copies of books to, radio shows and podcasts aimed at pagan and occult listeners, and an ever-growing list of festivals and other events. New features include essays and tips on everything from editing to promotion and publicity, calls for writers, and a variety of links to valuable online communities and other resources.
The look and location may have changed, but the focus is the same: to offer both new and experienced authors in the pagan and occult nonfiction genres the information they need to write, publish and market that book they’ve been working on. New resources and essays are accepted and appreciated. And, as always, the POARP is entirely free of charge.
To find out more about the POARP, visit http://www.thegreenwolf.com/poarp.html.
Press release: WHITE WITCH: A Novel
Press Release:
WHITE WITCH: A Novel
by Laura Stamps
Kittyfeather Press, 2006, paperback, 110 pages……………….$8.98
Ravena Riley is a Wiccan Witch, who successfully approaches her catnip toy business, feral cat rescue, perimenopause, and fibroids with white magick, spellcrafting, holistic healing, and herbs. But when her husband suddenly sinks into the angry depths of a midlife crisis, Ravena realizes she will have to conjure the greatest spells of her life to determine whether her marriage is worth saving.
Every chapter in this novel contains a spell or chant. You’ll also find lots of strategies and tips for catching, taming, and caring for feral cats and feral cat colonies. Plus, plenty of information for women about how to shrink uterine fibroids naturally…even big ones!
Anne K. Edwards, Book Reviewer and Editor of Voice in the Dark says: “Meet Ravena Riley, the White Witch, whose day starts off with a feeling of being followed and finds it might be a blessing in disguise. Or is it? The events of that day heralded a change in Raven’a life, a change that leads her into a new way of living and thinking. And for twenty years her life follows this new direction. Yet again change comes into her life, and she must seek answers before she can resume the even tenor of her days. Written in flowing words by talented poet and author Laura Stamps, you’ll see with new eyes through the lovely and elegant phrasings of this tale. Take a mental walk through a world you’ve never visited before and enjoy a thrilling new outlook on life. I have.”
TO ORDER: Make check or money order payable to LAURA STAMPS. Free shipping in the U.S. If you live in South Carolina please add sales tax.
MAIL TO: Laura Stamps, Kittyfeather Press, P.O. Box 212534, Columbia, SC 29221-2534
Laura Stamps is an award-winning poet and novelist. Over seven hundred of her poems, short stories, and book reviews have appeared in literary journals, magazines, anthologies, and broadsides worldwide, including the Louisiana Review, the Pittsburgh Review, Poetry Midwest, The Wheel, Big City Lit, Poesy Magazine, American Writing, and the Chiron Review. Winner of The Muses Prize Best Poet of the Year 2005 and the recipient of a Pulitzer Prize nomination and six Pushcart Award nominations, she is the author of more than 30 books of poetry and fiction. Her archives are housed at The Poetry/Rare Books Collection of the University Libraries, State University of New York, Buffalo, NY, and Special Collections at James B. Duke Library, Furman University, Greenville, SC. More information about books by Laura Stamps can be found at www.KittyfeatherPress.blogspot.com. For a free catalog of poetry books and novels by Laura Stamps email laurastamps@mindspring.com.
December 2006 Energy Reading
Staff Writer: Theresa Chaze
December will be a turning point for many of us. It will be a time of great healing and growth, as we allow ourselves to release old negative patterns. Physically, emotional, and spiritually, we will be shedding old skins and old challenges to face the calendar New Year with new prospects. The past few months we have been peeling back the layers of the old dead parts of ourselves. It has been painful and many tears have been shed. But like the snake freeing itself from a skin it has out grown or the butterfly that is fighting its way free of the cocoon, it has been necessary to reveal our inner strength, not to the world but to ourselves. It is the time we have come to see ourselves not through our own eyes, but through those of others.
The energy we are carrying forward from the past is the King of Cups. Strong emotions and temptations are carried forward as we are challenge to find a new way of carrying out the business of life. No longer will the old behaviors function. They will not satisfy nor will they be effective. It is a time of emotional change as we look to wiser souls to find new answers to old questions. Yet the external search will be balanced by the inner one as we find comfort inside ourselves. Time alone will no longer be considered a punishment, but a blessing we give ourselves as we take a break from the frantic energy around us. We will find brief moments of peace strung together to give us perspective and grounding. The more proficient we become at centering ourselves, the easier it will be to find safe port no matter what kind of storm rages around us. It will be these flashes that will give us the strength to keep within our centers and to keep moving forward.
December is represented by the Page of Wands. It will be all of our responsibilities to speak the truth and to stand for each other. No longer will we be lone voices in the darkness asking for spiritual awakening and wisdom; as the energy vibration level continues to increase in frequency and power, more individuals are awakened as are their spiritual gifts. Those who were blessed with minor psychic gifts suddenly find they are no longer minor, but active blessings that they can and will use at will. In addition, to the spiritual, many will find their voices and the ability to use them. No longer will they be silenced by fear and the manipulations by others. For as their eyes have opened and they have begun to see just how much ground they have given away in the name of fear. The first reaction will be guilt and anger, leading to an over-reaction. Yet this could be as self-defeating as doing nothing. It’s only by examining each situation and by coming to a just end result that individuals will grow past the negative behaviors. If we give in to the revenge mentality of tit for tat, then the dark side wins and the light in all of us will be diminished.
The energy coming out of December is the Ace of cups. A new emotional strength will radiate from our hearts that will give us a new positive attitude that will reflect upward to our souls and downward into our physical bodies. It will start with cleansing on all levels as we remove the toxins from our lives. Whether they be people, situations or behaviors, they will suddenly disappear from our lives. Those who wish to move forward only have to ask with their hearts for the healing to begin. Be very careful not to ask for specifics, but for the methods and the end results. Claim what is yours, but remember the free will of others. Having an open heart, means accepting others’ challenges as theirs and refusing to take on the responsibility for their decisions. By simply accepting not as a by-stander but as being of light, we see people for who they are, not as we wish them to be. In doing so, we accept ourselves and open our own doors to new energy.
The challenge each of us will face will be the Devil. In many ways, this card is of materialism and the material world. But in this case, it is our darker side that will be our greatest challenge–our fear, anger, ignorance, self-hatred–all that keeps us from seeing the light of our soul and that which shines from others. It is only by embracing and owning it that we can find the true source and heal through it. Owning it doesn’t mean giving it to it, but admitting we it is an issue. It is only by understanding what triggers the response that we learn how to change our behavior. Once we recognize it and admit is part of who we are, the behavior looses power over us and we can grow through it.
Heffalumps and Woozles
By Staff Writer: Paganus Greybeard
Strange days -
Weird energies -
Long hours -
Cold mornings -
Warming Afternoons -
One morning this working week some energies came by -
Around 10:30 in the AM it was -
Still slowly warming up with frosty mental fuzz -
Song appeared -
‘bangin’ ’round ‘n ’bout in the brain -
“Heffalumps and Woozles”
sung to the music of the old tv series “Addams Family” -
Strange that -
The words and music fit -
So why am I thinking of Cousin Itt? -
Makes no cents -
Perhaps some British pence -
or even a Zloty or two? -
Don’t know ’bout You -
but nothing here seems to fit -
Might be time to give it over to Fester and Itt -
as this Solitaire Greybeard does sit and in these quiet hours observes -
and has the passing thought -
perhaps all of this is a message -
I sent My Dragons out -
Perhaps this is their message -
I know Dragons have a sense of humour -
But “Heffalumpos and Woozles” sing to “Addams Family"?
Ah well -
Dragons -
Huffenstuff and Puff -
and Away We Go!
Tiny Climber
By Staff Writer: Paganus Greybeard
Tiny little ant -
crawling, crawling -
up, up faux-marble pillar -
where are you going? -
what is there? -
tiny climber?
Sharings - 12, 2006
Time.
Hours.
Days.
Dark to Light to Dark all around the Cycle.
Quiet.
Noisy.
Busy.
Moments of Inner Study,
Understanding and Outward Sharing -
The Solemnis Solitaire Sits -
Observes -
Writes -
Shares.
Black Cat dumpster scrounging -
scramble fast away -
parked by palm -
early morning arrival -
empty lot -
City still asleep -
sleeepy chirp of unseen featherhead -
“Go away. Sun not up yet.”
Suit rides up -
Suit, tie, fighting yawns -
bicycle in locker -
laptop over shoulder -
off to coffeehouse -
newspaper delivered to racks -
lot begins to fill -
first stirrings -
hint of dawn -
this working mondae begins -
slowly.11/20/2006
Hours -
Moments -
Slow rising of the Warming Sun -
The DayFather Arrives -
The NightMother softly slips away -
Sun is up -
Cold concrete slowly warming -
Birdseed offered and served.
Offerings found -
Offerings accepted.
Hungry, Hungry. 11/21/2006
Sounds -
nearly half heard stirrings and rustlings -
the day comes slowly alive -
First Light -
Orange, Blue, & Red -
Slow rising dawn -
Soft rustlings -
Quiet Chirpings in the bushes -
Seed offered and accepted -
Cold Morning -
Slow Flying Bee -
Pauses on sweater -
Resting for a moment -
Little ‘chi-chirup’ -
Offerings found -
offerinbgs again accepted.
Winter’s Coming.
Eat, Eat! 11/22/2006
Sitting at pillar -
Faux-stone -
Watching the little events -
Observing the story beneath Our Human feet -
Small Black Bug -
feelers atwich -
up from concrete’s crack -
seeking, searching, sensing -
gust of wind -
dry, brown leaf -
leaf vs. small black bug -
bug back down concrete’s crack -
leaf blows onward -
silly little bug! -
it was only a brown, dried leaf!12/01/2006
Sitting -
Watching -
Observing -
Remaining not above -
Not seperate and distant -
But a silent, observing paricipant -
One of -
One with -
One belonging.
Time -
Hours -
Moments -
Days.
Light and Dark -
Day and Night -
Around the Endless Cycle -
Moments of Inner Study -
Observing, Learning, Sharing -
Thus it was -
This is is -
Thus it will be -
This Paganus the Greybeard -
This Solemnis Solitaire.
Bearing the Light
By Staff Writer: Paganus Greybeard
Light.
Of the Light -
From the Light -
Illumination Spirits -
Guide’s of the path -
Agent’s of the ages -
Occult’s Officers -
Mystic Magi -
Magical Muses -
Ancient Ages Wisdom -
Sages from the Aeon’s -
Warrior’s of the way -
Bearing the Light -
Warmth and Healing unto Winter’s Cold
and Despairing Darkness -
Salve the Sorrows -
Repair the Damage -
Heal the Hurts -
Rebuild, Reset, Redo,
For the Hemisphere North -
The Cold, Dark, Depressingly Despairing Months of Doom,
Prepare the Hearth -
Light the Fires -
Stock the Larders.
The Night are long -
The Storms destructive.
The Harvests gathered.
Comes now the long months of Darkening Cold -
Ice and Snow upon the Ground -
Rivers frozen -
The Land lies fallow -
The Goddess carries on Alone -
Her Lord Lies Dead -
A Childe inside Her Grows -
Hope for the Next Year -
Hope for the Coming Spring.
As this Season lies buried under blankets of frozen white -
White not of life -
White of despair, cold and death -
The Land and its People huddle close -
close by the Fires of the Hearth -
waiting -
waiting -
Waiting for the Light.
Light of Life -
Light of Spring.
Bear the Light.
Bear the Life.
Winter is Coming.
Spring is months away.
Hold alight the Light.
Let not Hope of the Coming Spring Die.
Bear the Light into Winter’s Night.
Bear the Light.
{To Be Continued….}
Herb Garden: Onion
By Staff Writer: Paganus Greybeard
Latin Name: Allium Cepa
Folk Names: Oingum, Onyoun, Unyoun, yn-leac
Gender: Masculine, Hot
Planet: Mars
Deity: Isis
Element: Fire
Parts Used: Bulb, Flowers
Powers: Protection, Purification, Exorcism, Healing, Money, Prophecy, Lust
Ritual Uses:
Reportedly in Ancient Egypt the onion wa worshipped and was invoked while
taking ceremonial oaths. The onion is sacred to the Moon - and is used in Lunar rituals.
Magickal Uses:
A small white onion stuck full of black-headed pins placed in a window will guard the home
and household against the intrusion of evil. The flowers are protective as well as decorative
and can be dried for protective amulets.
Grown in garden pots they also shield against evil.
Halved or quartered onions placed in the home and household will absorb evil,
negativity and disease.
Do not throw onion skins and peelings on the ground.
You are throwing away your prosperity.
Burn them in a fireplace or cookpot to attract riches.
An onion placed beneath the pillow can produce prophetic dreams.
When faced with a decision, scratch your choices and options on an onion.
One option and choice to each onion.
Place them in the dark.
The first one to sprout is the answer.
Magickal knives and swords are purified by rubbing their blades with fresh cut onions.
Healing (Magickal) Uses:
Rub the cut edge of an onion against aflicted part of body - viisualizing affliction going into
the onion. Then burn or bury the onion.
Strings of onions - much like strongs of garlic - hung over doorways guard against infections.
A large red onion tied to the bedpost protects the occupants against sickness and aids in
recovery.
References:
1) Cunningham Encyclopeadia of Magickal Herbs
Scott Cunningham
Second Edition
© 1988 Scott Cunningham & 2000 Scott Cunningham Estate
Lewellyn Publications
www.llewellyn.com
The Burning Times Aren’t Over
Written By: Theresa Chaze
I now know how the women of the Burning Times felt being dragged from their homes in the middle of the night and tortured. I wasn’t dragged from my home nor was I physically tortured, but I was kidnapped and emotionally tortured by the Traverse City Police Department and the Grand Traverse Sheriff Department of Michigan.
After working a ten hour shift at Normic Industries that started at 3:30 pm Tuesday October 17th and ending 2 am on the 18th, I was driving home on South Airport Road. A few minutes after I turned off Park Drive on to South Airport, a car drove up very close behind me. The headlights were lighting the interior of my car and it was making me very uncomfortable because it simply wasn’t safe. If I suddenly had to stop, the other car would have rear-ended me. I turned on my signal and moved into the left lane. The car advanced and I saw it was a police car. I thought he was in a hurry and would pass. Instead, he turned his flashers on. Confused, I turned on my signal and pulled over back in to the right lane, then off to the side of the road, turning off my car and rolling down the window. The officer walked up and I asked “What? What did I do?”
He asked me for my driver’s license and registration.
I told him it was in my purse and pointed to the backseat.
He told me to get it, so I started opening the door. He got angry and slammed it shut. He demanded that I get it by reaching around the other way. There was no way I could reach it. He yanked open the door and ordered me to get out and go to the back of my car. I did what I was told, asking what did I do. He refused to answer. Moments later, he walked around riffling through my purse. He asked me if I had anything sharp that would cut him or a weapon. I have a small atheme that I carry for when I do ritual in the woods. It’s a set of two knives–two inches and one inch. Since most people don’t know what an athame is, I called them knives. I bought them on Ebay for 99 cents. He dug to the bottom of the outside pocket and found them. He again looked through the main pocket, then gave me my purse back and demanded I give him my license and registration. I asked him to hold his flashlight over my purse while I looked for them; it was even a bigger mess than when I gave it to him. After I gave him the forms, I was handcuff and put in the back of the squad car. I kept asking why and neither officer would answer me. I asked to talk to a supervisor and was told he knew, but he was too busy to talk to me. Where the second officer came from I don’t know. I was so overhelmed, I didn’t see if there was a second car. They searched my car without my permission and arranged to have my car towed. They took my keys and drove me to the jail. The handcuffs were so tightened they make my hands numb. Wednesday I woke up with my right wrist hurt and swollen.
After we got to the jail, I was informed that my car was swerving and that is why I was stopped. They arrested me because of my carrying a concealed weapon. I was totally amazed. They took off the handcuffs and I was processed. They took all my jewelry, including my pentacle necklace, and I was searched. During the processing, I was searched twice more, which I didn’t understand. Except for going to the bathroom, I was always in their sight, so why would they continually have to search me? Another person was being given a breathalyzer test. I asked to be given one as well. I wanted it as evidence that was sober and I had never done it before. I asked to talk to a supervisor and again was denied. I asked for an attorney and was denied. They placed me in a hallway. There was a payphone, but I didn’t know who to call and I no longer had any money. The longer I waited, the more nervous, I became. Stress is the main trigger for my asthma. As the attack started, I asked for my inhaler; they refused to give it to me. It turned into a major attack to the point of throwing up and peeing on myself. An officer walked in and told me to stop making myself sick. I told him the best that I could that I have asthma and needed my inhaler. A few minutes later, he allowed me to use it, but it took a little while before I was able to talk. During that time a dark haired officer with a mustache, who claimed he was a supervisor came it. I told him that I could talk yet and to come back in a few minutes. He never came back, but another one did. He said he was the shift sergeant who arrest me and that the other was the supervisor for the jail. I explain to him what had happened and the actual size of the knifes. He didn’t understand why the officer decided to arrest me–that he had the option of not. He also said that the officer contacted him and told him that the knife was three inches long; it was at that point he gave the officer the option of arresting or not. He said at this point there was nothing he could do, but at the 9 am, I would be given my bond hearing and that I would most likely be let go without having to pay a bond. I told him about my asthma, allergies, and hypoglycemia. He said he would make sure that I had access to my inhaler and given something to eat. I told him I would be missing two dozes of my allergy medication because I didn’t carry them with me. There was nothing he could do. I asked for an attorney and why my rights hadn’t been read to me. He said my rights didn’t have to be read to me because they hadn’t asked about the knife, but ignored my request for an attorney. Before he left, he again said he didn’t understand why I was arrested and was sorry that he couldn’t help.
Later I was put into a holding room and bagged lunch with two sandwiches, cookie, juice and an apple were given to me. The juice was high in sugar so it helped bring my blood sugar left back up. The sandwich tasted strange and the bread was all dry. It made me sick. I forced myself to eat half of it because I needed to eat and nibbled on the stale cookie. It was so bad I didn’t know what kind it was. I rationed out the juice to keep my blood sugar up. For the rest of the night, I sat on the mattress and walked the parade of people. Every few hours my chest would start to get tight and I would ask for my inhaler. It was hard to get their attention, but eventually it would be provided. Each time the officers were getting nastier about it. Breakfast was served to the other inmates but I didn’t receive any, nor was I asked if I wanted any.
There weren’t any clocks so I lost track of time. Eventually I was let out to talk to the “magistrate"–the woman who set my bail. I tried to tell her my side; she wouldn’t listen. No one would. She was more interested in my income and what property I owned, than finding out what my history was. I tried to tell her that I had never been arrested; like everyone else, she ignored me. She told me I was to go before the judge at 2pm. My bond was set at five thousand dollars with ten percent down. The only person I could think to call who would have access to that kind of money was my employer. I called him and he said he would see what he could do. Later, I was able to use the phone twice more to get bond. My sister-in-law wasn’t home; my credit card wouldn’t increase my limit. I didn’t know what I was going to do.
No one would give me any information nor help me understand the process. For most of the morning, I sat with my back against the wall, crying. Lunch was served, but by that time I had waited to long to eat. Looking at it make me feel nauseous, eating would only make me vomit. Instead, I curled back up in my corner and drank the Kool-Aid type drink they gave me. I continue to ask for my inhaler regularly. The officers were getting hostile. At one point, they nearly refused, but they gave it to me and told me it was the last time. Another officer mentioned that they should send me to the nurse to be checked out. However that wasn’t done.
It seemed to be getting late. I started asking about the time. I was told I had to appear before the judge at 2pm. I was already in enough trouble already; I didn’t need more by being late. The officers told me not to worry about it; the paperwork wasn’t filled out yet, but it would be soon. There was an announcement made for something at three o’clock. I again told an officer about the 2 pm appointment, he told me the paperwork still wasn’t ready. Later I asked again about the time, the officer said it was nearly four. Another person and I would be arranged before five. The was a problem with the transfer of a person and there was chaos for about 10-15 minutes. The officers had a good time beating up a young man who was being difficult. They laughed and joked about how they wanted to punch him bloody. After things had calmed down, my court appearance had been pushed back to Thursday at 9:45 am but my bond had been posted. They were just waiting to get the receipt. After dinner had been service, I was finally let out of the cell and my paperwork processed. They had taken all the cash I had on hand and deducted cost of my stay, returning the rest in a check. They wouldn’t give me copies of anything bond the receipt of my bond being paid and the check. They allowed me to use the phone. I called my employer to tell him that I had been released. He told me that he had tried to pay the bond earlier, but was told that I would be arraigned at two and that it would be reduced. When he called before three and he found out that I hadn’t been, he made arrangements to pay it before 4. I wasn’t released until after 5pm. It was too late to contact an attorney. By the time, the cab picked me up and the tow driver returned to the lot, it was after 6:30pm. Neither of them would accept a check and I ended up going over my limit on my credit card in order to get myself and my car home.
On Wednesday, I arrived at the courthouse at 9:30. I asked where I need to be and for my paperwork. I was told I didn’t need any and was directed to the courtroom. While I was waiting, I talked to a man who also had been in jail at the same time. He heard the officers joking that my paperwork had been ready for a while, but since I had been a pain they were going to teach me a lesson. It was after 11:30 before I was called before the judge. He finally read me my rights and gave me a phone number to call the next day to get an attorney. I told him I had never been arrested before and he agreed to give me back the ten percent my employer paid. I was able to leave.
I was cooperative from the beginning and through the whole ordeal. I keep asking why, because I wasn’t being given answers. The couple of times in the past, when I had been stopped the first words the officer said was did you know you were speeding. The arresting officer wouldn’t tell me anything. It was as if he was looking for a reason to arrest me and wouldn’t stop until he found one. I didn’t know him and don’t know why he would want to hurt me. I lost two days of work, cost me money I couldn’t afford, and has made me physically ill. I learned we do not have as many rights as we think we do. You can be pulled over and arrested without being told why. The officer and his co-workers refused to give me his name or give me a copy of the police report. You don’t have to be read your rights, given access to an attorney, or receive medical attention. You can be bullied and mocked by the people who are suppose to protect you; if you ask questions you are considered a troublemaker and you are detained longer. I always thought the police were to protect the public, but they are the ones the public needs protection from.
If you feel, that this was an injustice, please contact the below authorites and complain.
The Michigan Attorney General
Mike Cox
Michigan Attorney General
G Mennen Williams Building 7th Floor
525 W. Ottawa Street
Lansing MI 48909
miag@michigan.gov attention criminal division
I don’t know the name of the District Attorney. The address is
Governmental Center
400 Boardman Avenue
Traverse City MI 49685-0592
231-922-4600
The Sheriff’s information is
sheriff@co.grand-traverse.mi.us
851 Woodmere Avenue
Traverse City, MI
Governor Jennifer Granholm
P.o. Box 30013
Lansing MI 48909
517-373-3400
The Wheel of the Year: Death
Written by: The Solitary Witch: Agate
INBOX:
To: Artemesia
From: Rosemary65
Subject: I’m ready when you are
It’s all settled on this end, so come home as soon as you can. I can’t afford to send you the extra money, but if you can get here, I have a place for you.
Come quickly, sister. My readings lately are dark and worrisome. I see danger if you don’t move immediately. I am concerned for your safety.
May Goddess walk with you,
Rosemary
I carefully folded the printed email, along with Rosemary’s address and slipped it into my hip pocket. Since I had a panic attack the last time I flew in an airplane, I would drive. I have $300 saved; I think it will be enough.
There was nothing to hold me here, no family ties of any kind. My last foster family had been kind enough, but I was never really a part of them. Even Alia, whom I’d thought would be family turned out to be anything but.
I was heading to California, to Rosemary and her coven based upon nothing but two years of e-mails and her blog. I was going on faith, it was all I had left, but Goddess had never let me down yet. I could only hope this would not be the first.
~
I took as much and as little as I could. That was no problem; a lifetime of foster home hopping left me used to a gypsy lifestyle, never owning more than could fit into a backpack and a 30-gallon trash bag. Even after two years of living in my own apartment, I still didn’t own very much. I sold my cheap furniture, kitchen stuff, and most of my library at a yard sale. All I had left after that was my clothes, a few CDs and books, some life essentials, and my Wicca paraphernalia. I bought some camping equipment like a stove and lamp; I could sleep in the car.
The only Wiccan stuff I decided to keep was what would fit into the only piece of furniture I still owned. My last foster mom gave me a hand-made chest for my eighteenth birthday. It was something an old boyfriend had given her a decade ago and as she and her husband went through their storage shed, the chest was on the list of unwanted items. It was a work of art. Stained black, it was hand carved with flowers, vines and birds. The lid was rounded and the hinges and lock were a dark brass.
At the time I hoped that the special gift would mean that even as I left the house I would have someone I could call family, but well, you know how things go. Some people don’t get attached: her or me.
Anyway, I packed up the things I use the most in ritual: my favorite candleholders, a couple altar cloths, a small bag of stones and shells, the 12 inch statue of Artemis I bought for my last birthday, a wooden wand, some essential oils, incense and burner, and a four and a half inch diameter dutch oven I used as a cauldron. That filled one side of the chest. The other I filled with about a dozen Wiccan books. Those were the hardest to choose, I owned many and found them to be useful and inspiring. Without them I may never have found my path or realized that no matter what, I really did have a mother who loved me.
After a lot of sitting and staring at a pared down pile, I chose the best of the beginner’s books, an encyclopedia of Goddesses, a book on labyrinths, herbs, crystals, some compilations of Pagan essays, and this year’s and next year’s Magical Almanacs. I also picked out a few of my magazines. I packed the chest after it was in the car; I never could have picked it up on my own. On the top of the pile, I placed my ritual robe, a bag of ritual jewelry and my first Book of Shadows. The BOS marked my progress over the past few years. There was a blank journal in my backpack up front; a new BOS to mark a new life.
I didn’t travel as light as I used to, but I fit it all into my little red hatchback. I was ready to go: the car was oiled and tuned up, filled with gas, and had a new set of tires. I would leave today, but still I had a couple more things to do. First, the landlord promised my deposit would be waiting for me in the manager’s apartment, and then I would make one last trip to The Magic Wand.
~
The Magic Wand was the perfect metaphysics store. It was big, smelled of incense and had everything the eager pagan witch might need. Wanda, the owner, carried a lot of the mass produced stuff, but she also sold local handmade items as well. My Artemis statue was created by a local artist.
It was the kind of place you could sit in the corner for hours looking through books or chatting; peace drifted on the air like incense smoke. Wanda was the type of owner everyone loved and respected; kind, generous, and knowledgeable. More than anything, Wanda was what drew people to her store and her customers were loyal. She knew everyone by name and had a knack for pointing out those things you couldn’t see for yourself. If I had listened to her in the first place, my problems with Alia would never have occurred.
Wanda would be who I missed most when I left today. I was bringing in my excess Wiccan stuff so she could sell it to someone else at a discount. I kept everything in very good condition, so she shouldn’t have any problems finding it all new owners.
For Wanda every day of October was a reason to dress up. She had lots of costumes and themed clothing. Today, she wore a Renaissance wench’s outfit, her breasts cinched to her chin, and her top brown skirt tucked in to the waistband to reveal a dark green one underneath. Her dark hair hung loose around her bare shoulders, flowers tucked into the curls. If I was into older women I would have hated leaving even more.
Practically skipping from behind the counter, Wanda slipped her arm around my waist and kissed my cheek.
“Jillian, I can’t believe the day is already here,” she said helping me put the heavy crate on the counter.
“More reasons to go now than not,” I answered. For the first time I was sad to leave.
“I know sweetie, I’m just worried about you driving all that way by yourself, but it’s the path you must take.” He voice dropped a bit. “Does Alia know?”
“Do you think I’d get out of here if she did?” I answered, bitter and annoyed. I didn’t want to think of Alia today. This was my chance to break free of my past, of all the betrayal, hers especially.
“I’m sorry, but what will you do if she finds out?”
“No one knows how I am getting there with any luck she won’t be able to follow. As far as I know she doesn’t know about this group or Rosemary. You’re the only one here who does.”
“I won’t tell. I’ve never had good feelings about that girl.”
“Told you so, right?”
“That’s not it at all. I never thought she’d turn out to be violent.”
“That makes two of us.”
“Enough of that. This is a happy day, an exciting day. Today you begin your quest.”
“Isn’t that a little over dramatic, Wanda?”
“Not at all. You are leaving one life and going in search of a new one. It’s a quest, the goal is discovering yourself.” She picked up a brightly painted envelope and handed it to me, her grin so wide it nearly split her face in two.
“What’s this?”
“Open it and find out.”
I pulled out a beautiful card with Artemis on the front, wearing her short tunic, barefoot, bow and arrow raised for a shot.
“I’ve never seen this card before.”
“A new one; it came in yesterday. As soon as I saw it I knew it was meant for you.”
I opened it and a $100 bill fell into my hand. “Wanda, I can’t—“
“Don’t say it, of course you can. Gas, food, campsites, whatever, they all cost money. This isn’t a lot, but it will help you get a little closer. Every quest requires tools, in a modern world, cash is one of those tools.”
“Thank you,” I murmured.
“One more thing,” she held out a small black velvet pouch.
“But—“
“Just take it.”
I took the pouch and held its slight weight in my hand a moment. She’d given me so much already: her friendship, one hundred dollars, she didn’t need to give me more.Blinking away tears I loosened the cord. A bead and gold wire chain slid into my palm. On the end of the chain dangled a wire wrapped white moonstone. Wanda once showed me how to use one and though I seemed to have a knack with them, I never bought any before.
“I made it for you last new moon. It will help you find your way.”
That did it. Tears slid down my cheeks and I hugged her. She held me tightly as she spoke
“I wrote my email address on that card. You keep in touch and let me know how you’re doing. Let me know when you get there. And remember, even though I know this is the right way for you, if it doesn’t work out you can always come back here. I’ll help you deal with Alia if necessary.”
I nodded as she released me, wiping my eyes. “Thanks for everything.”
I hugged her quickly one more time, then ran out to my car before I found more reasons to linger.
Maybe I was wrong about that no family part.
~
My original plan was to take practically a straight line from where I was in Virginia to Rosemary’s house in California. But then, days after leaving, I stopped at a library and checked my email. There was an email from Wanda dated yesterday.
INBOX:
To: Artemesia
From: Wanda
Subject: Warning!!
Sweetie, I hope you see this soon because last night Alia showed up in the store looking for you. I didn’t tell her anything, but she said something about already knowing you were going to California. She must know about that group of yours and your plans. She’s following you. Watch out, because she’s angry.
Goddess be with you,
Wanda
I barely took the time to sign off my account before running out of the library. I hadn’t been going fast and furious on my trip, but Alia would. She’d figure out which way I was going and either catch up or cut me off. Alia was many things and determined topped the list.
Time to change plans.
~
Being gay wasn’t something I thought a lot about while growing up. Life isn’t hard enough without giving all those charitable Christian foster parents any reason to send you away. So it wasn’t until I moved out on my own that I realized and accepted the fact. Not that I intended do anything about it, I was tired of getting attached and being tossed away.
Then I met Alia. She’s a couple years older and a witch to boot. I thought she was beautiful; blond and tall with muscular arms that softened when they wrapped around you. I felt safe and protected around her. She wanted to be with me all the time; I thought it was love.
We had sex in the circle on Beltane, our own version of the Great Rite, I guess. It was a wonderful evening, but the next morning everything was different.
Suddenly, it was as though I wasn’t just her girlfriend anymore: I was hers, like she owned me and having sex some how marked me as property. Okay, in retrospect, it wasn’t so suddenly, but at the time that’s what it felt like.
She started making rules and ordering me around, but I didn’t want my life to be controlled by anyone else anymore. I’d had enough of people interfering with my existence, so I told her no and refused to have sex with her anymore.
The first time she hit me, it was palm open, she begged my forgiveness. The second time it was with her fist and she apologized. The third time, it was with both fists and the toe of her boot in my stomach. She said I either did what I was told or she’d use more force and magic to make sure I never said no again.
The magic part I wasn’t sure about, but I knew force was definite.
This wasn’t the first time I’d been hit and I knew if I didn’t end it right away, I’d be her victim forever. I had the locks in my apartment changed and called the cops when she came pounding. I got a new cell phone number and deleted any Internet accounts she had access to. I didn’t ignore the magic threat though by warding my apartment and strengthened my own personal shield by empowering a small silver pentacle I always wore on a chain around my neck.
I had one group left on a rarely used account that she did not have the password for: I wasn’t so used to sharing that I gave her everything.
With no one else to talk to I began asking advice of these people. Rosemary, who had once been married to an abusive husband, became my best advisor and eventually my ticket away from Alia.
I decided the next time I stopped for Internet access I would warn her about Alia knowing, right now though, I had to run. I had to change my entire travel plan. My careful financial plan went down the toilet; I would run out of money before I was halfway there, which meant I’d have to find work along the way. But which way did I go? How did I stay out of Alia’s sight? I pulled my map from the glove compartment and the pendulum that Wanda gave me. I was going on faith so far, I’d let Goddess choose the direction.
~
After two weeks on the road headed north to try and throw Alia off, it was Samhain. I found a quiet place in the woods to pull off and drove my car into a small niche out of sight of the main road. I wanted privacy and seclusion; Alia may not be my only predator out there and besides it was a holiday. I always did something for the sabbats, I didn’t want to change that now.
It was chilly out, but not too bad. I grabbed some things out of the chest in the back of the car and set an altar up on a nearby fallen log. I kept it simple: altar cloth, tea light, small cauldron and Wanda’s Artemis card. I pulled my loose fitting robe over my clothes. There would be no ritual bath tonight, the wet cloths I wiped down with earlier would have to do until I reached the trucker’s rest stop tomorrow where there would be showers.
Wand in hand, I cast a small circle and kneeled in front of the altar. I stared at Artemis’ picture in the flicker of candlelight. I’d always wanted Her strength and that complete sense of self that She had; to be able to run into the wilderness without fear. Of course She does have the advantage of being a Goddess. I guess that’s the great thing about mythology, all those things that are so difficult in regular life, come quite naturally in myths.
I sang “We all come from the Goddess” a couple times, but then felt somewhat lost. Samhain was a time to honor the dead, but I didn’t think I had anyone to honor. Wait, yes, I did.
I lifted my robe and fished my driver’s license out of my back pocket. I laid it on the cloth in front of the tea light.
The end of one life, Wanda had said.
“I bid farewell to Jillian Connors, daughter of no one, grand-daughter of no one. May she find what she seeks in the next life.”
Believe it or not, I cried. At least I hardly believed it. Was I really mourning the end of that old life where love always turned out to be a double-edged Athame?
A long time ago when I first became a witch and the idea of a secret magical name was exciting, I had chosen Artemesia, after both the Goddess and an Italian artist I read about I had hoped to gain those attributes I admired so much in my Goddess, but eventually it just became a log on name. Then it seemed silly and somewhat arrogant to name myself after a divine figure, so I didn’t tell anyone. Though, I don’t feel the same about it now, I still didn’t want to use that name. It wasn’t the right one. But if I wasn’t Jillian anymore, who was I?
I didn’t figure that part out that night. There was still time for that, my journey was not going to be short after all, I would take the time, figure out exactly who I was and when I showed up at Rosemary’s, I would introduce my new self to her.
~
INBOX:
To: Artemesia
From: Lverrgrrl
Subject: none
You can’t hide from me forever, Jilly. We are bound together by ritual. I will find you.
I promise,
Alia
To be continued…
Energy reading for November 2006
Written By: Theresa Chaze
This energy reading is hitting very close to home for me, but I am not the only one. Many bright lights have found themselves targeted by those whose goal is to spread fear. Although mine started on the physical plane, it reached to challenge me on the spiritual and emotional. So it is with many. Whether it be losing loved ones, economic insecurity, or religious/political issues, we all have been challenged to face our fears and become stronger. No longer are we able to idly stand by and believe it won’t happen to us or that someone else will take care of it. Each of us are now responsible for taking the lead and standing up for what is right. To allow a bully to harm a weaker person is to be just as responsible. For evil to win, good people have to do nothing; however, when they stand together to face the bully, the bully slinks back into the shadows.
The energy we have brought into November from the past is the four of wands. It is a card of peace and harmony from lessons learned and challenged faced. It is an energy of confidence and satisfaction. We are proud of our accomplishments and the rewards we have earned. It is a time of sharing what we have learned and how much progress we have made. In the past, we faced the old fears and reach further into our core to find the true source of what motivates us. What is hidden can be feared, but once it is brought into the light, it can be examined and worked through. We found others who were dealing with the same issues and had the strength to share. In doing so new bonds were formed and more resources were made available.
For the month of November, the energy is represented by the page of swords. Although we come into the month on a positive note, the challenges again rise up. As we are confronted from the outside, we will find ourselves on the defensive. We will feel uncertain of ourselves and our beliefs as we are forced to reevaluate from the inside out. Was what we held close to our hearts an illusion? Was it real? What is real and true? What or who can we depend on? It’s a time of intense growth and clarification. No longer will the shallow explanations be enough. Each of us will be forced to answer the tough questions within ourselves. This energy will force us to define what within ourselves is ego, fear, or power driven. In seeing and releasing the smallness of ourselves, we find the true motivations of our actions and are able to return to the Divineness that is within all of us. In finding our own, we again see the Divine in others.
The energy we will take from November is the page of wands. As we have found our truth, from within we are more able to speak it with others. No longer will we be comfortable with the shallow old relationship or ways of relating. Although it’s still on the horizon and the dawn has yet to break, the fellowship is emerging. As each person finds their own light, so they light the way for others to find their way. For every prayer for peace and wisdom, for every kindness shown, for every bully that is faced and forced to back down, the Divine grows within all of us as each act reinforces the next. No one stands alone when they come from the truth. As each of us faces our fears, we make the whole stronger and we are more able to see family in the faces of strangers.
The challenge we will all be facing is the ace of cups. No matter what challenges crosses our path, we must face it with courage, love and a good sense of humor. It will not be easy, but we will not be alone. As we reach out to strangers, so they will reach back to us, creating new bonds of support and understanding. For many it will mean new starts or the reactivation of old projects. Many who were afraid to speak out will suddenly find their voice. Some have already been pushed with their backs to the wall and have no place else to go but forward. Others have voluntarily left their nest in order to protect it. Although it was painful, they needed to temporarily be relocated to a place where their voice could be heard and their actions draw more attention. They will be the ones who turn on the spotlights and directs them into the heart of the shadows. The time of the truth-bringers have begun. It’s time for all of us to stand together.
Halloween/Samhain 2006
By Staff Writer: Paganus Greybeard
Tiu’s Day - October 31st, 2006
Moon Sign: Aquarius
Moon Phase: Second Quarter
Colour: Lavender
Incense: Rose
Again the ghouls, ghosts, gremlins and ghoblins appear on Our doorsteps.
It’s Halloween.
Costume Shops have been busy.
Candy sales are making merchants happy.
For the sake of the tykes, toddlers and other children out
‘trick-or-treating’ - a few simple safety and security precautions
are suggested.
-) Be careful where You go. Stay in Your own neighborhood if possible.
-) Use reflective costumes - if possible.
-) Carry and use a good, bright, long-lasting flashliight if You go out before dark.
-) If possible do not wait until dark when it is harder to see and be seen.
-) Wait until You get home to eat anything handed out. As the the Adult in the
Family and Household - it is up to You to safeguard the children on this night.
One thing You can do is to hold all the treats handed out.
Do not let any of the children eat anything till You are back home.
Once home - carefully inspect everything You have received.
If You have any questions or doubts about anything - do not let the children eat it
or play with it. Take it to either a Fire Station or a Hospital so It can be examined
or X-rayed if necessary.
It is not just Your Children You need to protect.
Keep Your Dogs and Cats inside if at all possible.
This has long been a night of unspeakable cruelty to Dogs and Cats -
especially black cats.
Keep them inside and safgely away from the neighborhood marauders.
This is not just Halloween.
This is also Samhain.
On this night the veil between the realms and realities thins and parts.
That ghost You thought You heard -
You thought You saw -
perhaps You did See and Hear -
Something or Someone.
Or It may have just have been Granpa’ Ned stoppin’ by for a visit?
This is also the day in 1517 that Martin Luther nailed His ninety-five (95)
theses to the Wittenburg Castle Church’s door - sparking the Protestant Reformaion.
For the ‘Church’ it is ‘All Saints Day’ on Woden’s Day - November 1st.
On Thor’s Day - November 2nd - it is “All Soul’s Day’.
Cast Your Circle -
Raise Youir Shields.
Let’s Be Careful & Cautious out There.
I am Casting a Circle -
I am Raising Shields -
I am Grounding and Centering -
and staying very, very quiet.
May the only ghosts, ghoblins, saints, ghouls and gremlins I see
are children in costumes.
Take Care out there.
Stay Safe, Secure and Out of Harm’s Way out there.
Keep the Children, Dogs and Cats safe out there.
Do No Harm.
Let No Harm Be Done.
So Mote It Be.
Blessings Be.
THE THREE TAROT CARDS
Written By: Laura Stamps
Spring arrives late in the Blue
Ridge this year. Only the second
week in May, and the soft fur
of buds and new leaves still
covers most of the trees at higher
elevations after an unusually
long, cold winter. At four o’clock
Ravena turns off the Parkway
and drives back to her hotel
along the country road that joins
each mountain town to the next.
Dark storm clouds gather in the
west, and she’s thankful to have
left the mountaintops before the
sky cracks, releasing its barrage
of fire-sticks and silver seeds.
When Ravena returns to the hotel
the thumping of steady rain pummels
her car, but by the time she walks
into her room the deluge stops.
Outside, water puddles pockmark
the courtyard, and a sparrow
jumps in one, fanning its wings,
splattering itself with water. Up
and down it hops and splashes,
until a robin twice its size charges
across the lawn, and the tiny bird
darts beneath a bush. The birds
in Ravena’s backyard bathe in rain
puddles as well, but none to such
a joyous tempo as this tiny sparrow.
Ravena steps out of her wet shoes
and pads across the room to the
bed, where she sits in the middle,
her legs folded neatly beneath
her, rummaging through the bag
of magickal tools for her tarot deck.
She places it in the middle of a
cotton scarf illustrated with runes
and the image of Athena, Goddess
of Wisdom. With her wand Ravena
casts a circle around the bed, calling
upon Athena’s guidance. Then she
closes her eyes, grounds her energy,
and says, “Dearest Athena, Great
Goddess of Wisdom, should I leave
Odell and my marriage?” Ravena
cuts the deck, shuffles three times
to symbolize the phases of the
Moon, divides the deck into three
piles moving left, stacks it again
in the same direction, and then
draws the top card. The Nine of
Swords reversed. A reversed card
always means “No,” this particular
one symbolizing a time of confusion.
“I don’t understand,” Ravena mutters.
“Dear Athena, show me another
card to clarify your answer.” She
props the Nine of Swords against
her magickal tool bag, cuts the deck
again, shuffles, divides, stacks, and
draws The Star this time, a healing
card. “Now I’m really confused,”
she says. “Help me, Athena.”
Setting this card next to the first
one, she goes through her routine
one last time, drawing The World.
“Success and abundance!” she
exclaims, thoroughly frustrated.
“None of this makes any sense to
me,” she sighs, staring at the three
cards as if they could speak, but
hearing no revelation from Athena.
“Not one word,” Ravena mumbles.
Slowly she gathers the cards and
packs them away in her bag, deciding
to try another reading tomorrow
before she leaves town for home.
Restless from her puzzling tarot card
reading, Ravena decides to drive
downtown and explore the neighbor-
hoods clinging to the mountains of
the city. Each narrow street hugs
the curve of a mountain, while drive-
ways shoot up at an angle or plummet
straight down. On the sloping side
of the street, mailboxes rise higher
than the roofs of homes that sprawl
large and spacious, most perched
on stilts, each with a wooden bridge
leading from the front door to the
road. High fences and thick masses
of trees and shrubbery surround the
mansions at the top of the mountains,
some resembling castles carved from
rock, painted in sunny pastel shades.
Winding through these mountain
neighborhoods, Ravena realizes
she must keep her mind focussed
on the last tarot card, The World,
if she hopes to discern its meaning
in her life, to manifest its prophecy
of success and abundance. Quickly
she creates a chant for her intent:
“Wise Athena, thank you for your magick.
Open my eyes, guide this blessed chant.
Abundance and success shall manifest.
The World will bring me only the best.”
Wild onions bow their heads to the
setting sun as Ravena walks back
to her room after dinner, every step
a tonic for cramped muscles after
a long day of driving. Rain curtains
one of the mountains, and the dark
sky reflects the same shade of gray
she chose when painting the deck
last spring. Instantly, clouds part
for the sun, and a rainbow stencils
its bright hoop over the murky sky
in scarlet, tangerine, yellow, green,
blue, indigo, and violet, this looping
spectacle so wide Ravena finds
color variations smudged in between
the usual spectrum. For several
minutes the rainbow towers before
her, a perfect semicircle. One side
closed, the other forever open.
When she walks through the door
of her hotel room the telephone
rings. “I know you’re coming home
tomorrow, but I couldn’t wait,” Odell
says, his voice laden with misery.
“I feel awful.” Sitting on the edge
of the bed, Ravena asks, “Are you
ill?” Odell groans. “No, not really,”
he replies. “It’s just that everything
bothers me.” Ravena smiles, glad
he can’t see her expression. “Could
you do a healing spell for me?” he
asks. “Anything, please, I’m so tired
of this.” Ravena laughs. “It’s not
funny!” Odell shouts, frustrated.
“I know,” she replies, thinking about
The Star. “This reminds me of a
tarot card I drew last night.” She
reaches for her bag of magickal tools
and unzips the top. “I’ll be happy to
cast a healing spell for you, Sweet-
heart,” she says. “Great,” he replies,
and begins to complain about his job
and the cats as he walks into the
kitchen to search the freezer for
a snack. “Honey,” Ravena says,
“we need to cover all the magickal
bases.” She hears him open the
freezer door. “Before leaving for
work tomorrow, go into my office,
open my cabinet of magickal supplies,
and find a short length of red ribbon,”
she says. “All the ribbons in there
have been blessed with holy water.”
Odell pries the top off a cardboard
container of soy ice cream. “Pin it
to your shirt pocket to ward off the
Evil Eye,” Ravena continues. Odell
scrapes the last spoonful of ice cream
from the carton and throws it in the
trash. “Okay,” he replies, smacking
his lips. “I can do that.” Ravena
smiles at his sudden cooperation.
“Then I’ll cast a healing spell for
you tonight, and you’ll feel much
better tomorrow morning,” she says.
“I hope so,” he moans. “Love you.”
And he hangs up. Ravena drags the
tool bag across the bed and turns it
over. She fills a tiny green amulet
pouch with a pinch of dried fennel,
geranium, rosemary, and lavender
for healing. Then adds five beans
and two charms, a silver hand
and a crescent moon, both power-
ful repellents of the Evil Eye.
It worries her that some people
possess the ability to send the Evil
Eye to another without realizing it.
“Odell has been cranky for so long,
who knows how many people
he’s offended?” Ravena mutters,
closing the amulet pouch with
a red cord long enough for Odell
to wear it around his neck, hidden
beneath his dress shirt and vest
every day. She places the amulet
on the bed and casts a sacred
circle, waving her wand over it
three times in a clockwise direction,
seeking the healing magick of Isis.
“I call on the power of Isis,
Great Goddess of Restoration.
Heal Odell’s troubled mind.
End the root of this strife.
Hide him from the Evil Eye.
Under your wings I place him.
Please grant my supplication.”
She thanks the Goddess and opens the
circle. Energized from Odell’s call and
the power she summoned for this spell,
Ravena rolls over on the bedspread,
closes her eyes, and pulls light from the
table lamp into her body, using it to relax
her muscles, until she dissolves into
a river of star-shine, the three tarot
cards dancing upon a mystical horizon.
Leaving this city and the Blue Ridge
never comes easy, but Ravena
will go home tomorrow morning as
planned, because that’s where she
feels she belongs at this moment,
the prophecy of the three tarot
cards already manifesting. “But in
my mind,” she whispers, “I’ll take
the rainbow, the azure mist rolling
across the mountains, and my idea
of the world.” She knows everyone
in life clutches a particular idea of
the world, good or bad, following
that concept, walking a certain road.
“And I will walk mine,” she muses,
“a path following my heart, stepping
not only to an earthly circle, but also
spinning as a planet unto myself,
blessed in the arms of the Goddess.”
* * * * *
Early the next morning Ravena
pulls out of the hotel parking lot
onto the highway leading back
to Columbia, searching for a way
to say goodbye to the mountains,
their image growing smaller in her
rearview mirror with each passing
mile, and only the ringing of her
cell phone interrupts these thoughts.
“On the road yet?” Odell asks.
“Yes,” Ravena answers. “About
three hours away.” Odell mumbles
to his secretary and shuffles the
papers on his desk. “Okay, I’m back,”
Odell says. “Did you do the healing
spell last night?” Ravena wiggles
in her seat, trying to find a more
comfortable position. “I did,” she
responds. “What do you think?”
he asks. “I think it’s a good start,”
she replies. Odell sighs with relief.
“You should get here around noon,”
he says. “If you like, I could come
by the house, and we can go to lunch
at that vegetarian restaurant down-
town.” Three crows swoop over
the highway and disappear in a field
of sun-washed goldenrod. “That
would be nice,” she replies. “It’s a
date.” Odell laughs, and she realizes
it has been months since she’s heard
him sound so carefree and happy.
As they hang up, she glances in the
rearview mirror, the mountains
only a faint lavender ribbon curling
across the horizon. “Merry meet and
merry part,” she whispers, as the sun
lifts its dazzling chin over the Blue
Ridge. “And merry meet again.”
Often called “The Mystic Cat Poet of the Small Press,” Laura Stamps is an award-winning poet and novelist.
Over seven hundred of her poems and short stories have appeared in literary journals, magazines, anthologies, and broadsides, including the Louisiana Review, The Pittsburgh Quarterly, Poetry Midwest, Big City Lit, The Wheel, Poesy Magazine, American Writing, and the Chiron Review. Winner of the “Muses Prize Best Poet of the Year 2005″ and the recipient of a Pulitzer Prize nomination and six Pushcart Award nominations, she is the author of more than thirty books and chapbooks of poetry and fiction.
Recent books include “The Year of the Cat: New Poems” (Artemesia Publishing, 2005) and a new series of novels and novellas for Wiccans and Pagans published by Kittyfeather Press: “The Cat Lady: A Novel in Verse” (2006) and “The Tarot Cats: A Novella in Verse” (2006). More information about books by Laura Stamps can be found at Kitty Feather Press
To purchase the Year of the Cat, visit Amazon Books at:
The Year of the Cat
Goddess Letter - Good Fair
By Paganus Greybeard - Staff Writer
It was a good Fair.
For this Paganus it was a good Fair.
I had ‘work’ - such as it was - that got Me out of the Household for
ten (10) days.
I had Challenges to Overcome.
I had Tasks to Accomplish and Ojectives to Achieve.
Goddess - I thank You for all of that.
I had Lessons to learn.
Some I am already learning.
I thank You for the chance to resuce to tiny little kitt.
Finding the lost child was also rewarding.
It was dusty, smelly, draining and exhausting total sensory overload.
I thank You for all of that also.
I thank You also for the unexpected and unwanted challenge of the
‘team leader’. He was not My team’s leader. We had an encounter.
It was quite ugly. His kharma came back and chewed and lunched Him up good.
I am still waiting for My kharma’s verdict.
Aside from the Jury Duty Summons I think I am still clean and clear.
I had the ‘rabbit-totem’ and rescued kitt experiences after that nasty, brief encounter.
I think I might, perhaps have a clue to my kharma’s verdict.
Yes, Goddess.
I thank You even for all of that.
Teaching Moments.
Learning Experiences.
Sharing Moments.
You were tossing basket-full’s of those at Me at Fair.
I probably missed several of Your Lessons and Learning Moments.
I think I might have used a Sharing Moment or three.
It was not so much the ‘work’ - If I can say that with a straight face -
that was so overwhelming. It was the background experience of the
noises, smells, sights and realities of the Fair.
That and the driving home.
That is and was the Big One.
You got Me home every night.
Driving home every night was My biggest challenge of this Fair.
The roads were dark, often not well marked if they were even marked at all,
wet and slippery and in Reche Canyon - narrow and twisty.
Reche Canyon is bad road in the daytime.
At night it is a nightmare.
Even at that it is still better than the Freeway.
Around here almost any road is better than the Freeway.
I am here.
With Your help I made it.
I endured and survived.
I comprehended and understood.
I ce