The moon
Seen through ice-glazed branches
Multiplies herself
In a thousand crystal reflectiions
Showing posts with label moon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label moon. Show all posts
Saturday, February 23, 2013
Sunday, December 30, 2012
Winter Solstice 2012
Money was tight and December was rushed this year, which paradoxically meant that Solstice was very nice -- just family, quiet, darkness and fire. We are in our back-woods house with no internet or TV. I made a big fire in my newly rebuilt firepit. It is great to be able to have a real, big fire, burning actual logs instead of bits of branches!
The blazing fire of peachwood from our old house and aged oak from our new house was beautiful on the cold night, and drew out Athena and the kids to sit around and talk, and roast marshmallows. Too much mist and scattered clouds for stargazing, but a gorgeous almost-full moon sporting a huge ring - at least 35 degrees wide, fat and silvery, lasting most of the evening.
Athena sat with me a while, then Aurora came out and talked with me and we shared stories about shamanic journeys. We played some with the bells and drums, Cercatore and Aurora made smores, and we all sat out for a long time talking and enjoying the fire.
Later, after the others went in, I sat by the fire and beat a steady rhythm with the bells Athena had bought, and drifted into non-ordinary reality. As I listened to the bells jingle, I started to hear other bells, like harness bells approaching and jingling across the fire. I could very clearly hear them come close and settle near the fire. The visitors felt like travelling Sidhe, riding some kind of antlered steeds, attracted by my fire. I welcomed them to share the fire, and put out some of my snacks and offered them freely to share. I offered, as my part of the nights tale-telling, for them to watch the spirit journey I was about to undertake.
I took a journey to find a spirit animal to help me in the coming year. The seaside was dark and cold, but the sea looked like clear glass and reflected the flames of my fire; as I walked into the woods I could still feel the warmth of the fire. As I passed the ring of trees and entered the meadow, I could see the sun and moon above bathing everything in light of mingled silver and gold. Oak and I embraced, and I thanked him for his support and strength. Spider met me and I thanked her for her gifts and aid in the past year, and I greeted and thanked Barn Swallow. Then I walked on to the crystalline, tumbling stream and sat beside it, looking across to the edge of the woods beyond, and waited for someone/something to emerge.
After a bit, I could feel something hesitating just beyond sight, unsure if it should appear - apparently because it was not sure I would believe it it. To try and lure it out, I tried asking it what it was, and tried a number of animals without getting a firm response - some recognition at snake and bird, but still not quite right. Next I asked about its element; definitely not earth or air, positive response on both water and fire.
It finally crept out from the trees into the stream, and let me see it - it was a water-drake, a small dragon; a creature of fire and water, very snakelike, standing about 3-4 feet on two hind legs. It said that Water had been a good friend to me and helped me a lot this last year with adaptability and acceptance of change as I moved and started a new job, but that for the challenges in front of me now I will need to add Fire to my gifts. I thanked it, and admired its beauty; it was sometimes transparent, disappearing into the water, sometimes blue and white, curling its neck. I could tell it could also breath flame when it needs to!
I look forward to learning more from Water-Drake, and learning to use its gifts. What a surprising patron!
After returning to my fire, my visitors had moved on. I doused the fire with many thanks, and left my food as a free gift to any that passed that way, and went inside.
The blazing fire of peachwood from our old house and aged oak from our new house was beautiful on the cold night, and drew out Athena and the kids to sit around and talk, and roast marshmallows. Too much mist and scattered clouds for stargazing, but a gorgeous almost-full moon sporting a huge ring - at least 35 degrees wide, fat and silvery, lasting most of the evening.
Athena sat with me a while, then Aurora came out and talked with me and we shared stories about shamanic journeys. We played some with the bells and drums, Cercatore and Aurora made smores, and we all sat out for a long time talking and enjoying the fire.
Later, after the others went in, I sat by the fire and beat a steady rhythm with the bells Athena had bought, and drifted into non-ordinary reality. As I listened to the bells jingle, I started to hear other bells, like harness bells approaching and jingling across the fire. I could very clearly hear them come close and settle near the fire. The visitors felt like travelling Sidhe, riding some kind of antlered steeds, attracted by my fire. I welcomed them to share the fire, and put out some of my snacks and offered them freely to share. I offered, as my part of the nights tale-telling, for them to watch the spirit journey I was about to undertake.
I took a journey to find a spirit animal to help me in the coming year. The seaside was dark and cold, but the sea looked like clear glass and reflected the flames of my fire; as I walked into the woods I could still feel the warmth of the fire. As I passed the ring of trees and entered the meadow, I could see the sun and moon above bathing everything in light of mingled silver and gold. Oak and I embraced, and I thanked him for his support and strength. Spider met me and I thanked her for her gifts and aid in the past year, and I greeted and thanked Barn Swallow. Then I walked on to the crystalline, tumbling stream and sat beside it, looking across to the edge of the woods beyond, and waited for someone/something to emerge.
After a bit, I could feel something hesitating just beyond sight, unsure if it should appear - apparently because it was not sure I would believe it it. To try and lure it out, I tried asking it what it was, and tried a number of animals without getting a firm response - some recognition at snake and bird, but still not quite right. Next I asked about its element; definitely not earth or air, positive response on both water and fire.
It finally crept out from the trees into the stream, and let me see it - it was a water-drake, a small dragon; a creature of fire and water, very snakelike, standing about 3-4 feet on two hind legs. It said that Water had been a good friend to me and helped me a lot this last year with adaptability and acceptance of change as I moved and started a new job, but that for the challenges in front of me now I will need to add Fire to my gifts. I thanked it, and admired its beauty; it was sometimes transparent, disappearing into the water, sometimes blue and white, curling its neck. I could tell it could also breath flame when it needs to!
I look forward to learning more from Water-Drake, and learning to use its gifts. What a surprising patron!
After returning to my fire, my visitors had moved on. I doused the fire with many thanks, and left my food as a free gift to any that passed that way, and went inside.
Saturday, November 3, 2012
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Moon walk
It has been so horribly hot here, that I decided to take a walk in the neighborhood after dark. The moon nearly full, and very beautiful. As I walked, I prayed to the Argent Lady for help (or at least illumination) with our financial situation; I just asked for events to happen in a propitious sequence, since she is a keeper of the cycles of time. Mostly, I tried to ground and open myself to a sense of the numinous as I walked.
Encountered along the way:
A lady with a small white dog who was very protective.
A culvert with fireflies, with frogs who sang for me when I sat for a bit; they were silent before by arrival and after my departure.
Three young men honoring Apollo (by playing basketball)
The white dog again.
A couple with a large black dog and her puppy; the puppy ran to me to be petted.
I am not sure what these all mean, but they felt significant. Especially having the Black Dog's Pup race to me and fall over in delight to have its belly rubbed.
Encountered along the way:
A lady with a small white dog who was very protective.
A culvert with fireflies, with frogs who sang for me when I sat for a bit; they were silent before by arrival and after my departure.
Three young men honoring Apollo (by playing basketball)
The white dog again.
A couple with a large black dog and her puppy; the puppy ran to me to be petted.
I am not sure what these all mean, but they felt significant. Especially having the Black Dog's Pup race to me and fall over in delight to have its belly rubbed.
Monday, August 23, 2010
Recommitment
A new journey, taken on the liminal cusp; at twilight, when school begins the next morning, with a timeless while balanced between summer and fall, light and dark, freedom and responsibility...
I am recommitting to my spiritual practice, and have taken a journey to meet again the guardians of the four directions, and to also ask to see the adversaries of the four directions. I want to know what I can do to start a daily/weekly practice to keep me in touch with the spirit.
In the East the guardian is a great golden-furred beast, the master of the good beginning, the gateway for the start of the journey. His element is Water, since all things start with water. I can honor him each morning by catching a drop of water on my finger and throwing it to the east.
The adversary of the east resolves itself slowly into the huge figure of a giant or ogre, guarding a closed door. His power is to deny entry, to close the door and forbid egress: that part of myself that fears change and wants to stay within its safe world and never reach out. I consider if I am supposed to battle him, or trick him, of beguile him... none of these things would work. Instead I thank him for his service, and acknowledge that sometimes it is right to close the door: in defense, or to prevent unwise wandering, but I tell him that I am too quick to close the door and that I need to learn to open it more, and move out from my comfort into the wide world more. He agrees that I need this. He will man the door for me, but it will always be my responsibility to choose when to open it.
In the South is the great feathered serpent, over the lush green jungle. He is the master of the path, the one who sets the trials, the creator of the labyrinth that we must navigate to reach our goals. I can honor him each morning by lighting a flame, gazing at it, and thinking of its powers and gifts.
The adversary of the south appears as a huge winged skull that flies in darkness. It is the ashes of lost hopes; the possible futures that once could have been but can now no longer be; the future selves that have been killed by my past choices. It flies at me and tries to bite me. I cannot unmake those choices, and even if I could it would destroy some other future. Every choice and action creates its future only by destroying others. I acknowledge this, and admit that I would not return to these choices, but I still grieve for what cannot be. I spread my arms and accept the pain of its bite, the pain of loss that is unavoidable. The pain remains. It will never not be, nor will it be belittled or smothered with platitudes.
In the West is crested lizard or horny toad, the consort of the moon, sitting on a stone in the desert with the stars behind him. He is the master of the gate of learning, the fruits of the journey; the stars are the myriad possibilities that are the consequence of my choices. I can honor him by gazing at the stars.
The adversary of the west appears to me as Christ suffering on the cross. He is choices held onto past their time, decisions clung to but never reexamined. What is right and good at one point in your life can become a burden and a barrier later if you stop questioning. Doing this can condemn us all to being crucified on the cross of our past choices. I can honor him, and remind myself to keep an open mind and heart, by breaking a thread.
In the North is the vast hall of the king, dressed in sable and crowned with ice. The north star is over his head. He is the lord of bards and storytellers, and the lord of hope and of light in the darkness. In his hall are told the stories of all those who have braved the journey and won through to the end. I can honor him with song. It can be a light or funny song, it is the act of singing out that opens the heart to joy.
The adversary of the north is a huge white dragon. He represents the demands of the world, the duties and responsibilities of daily life. He desires to rip out my heart and eat it, just as work, money, and other demands will destroy my soul, unless I can keep a balance that honors both the spiritual and emotional side of my life and the practical side. I can honor him with herbs that feed both the body and the soul.
I am recommitting to my spiritual practice, and have taken a journey to meet again the guardians of the four directions, and to also ask to see the adversaries of the four directions. I want to know what I can do to start a daily/weekly practice to keep me in touch with the spirit.
In the East the guardian is a great golden-furred beast, the master of the good beginning, the gateway for the start of the journey. His element is Water, since all things start with water. I can honor him each morning by catching a drop of water on my finger and throwing it to the east.
The adversary of the east resolves itself slowly into the huge figure of a giant or ogre, guarding a closed door. His power is to deny entry, to close the door and forbid egress: that part of myself that fears change and wants to stay within its safe world and never reach out. I consider if I am supposed to battle him, or trick him, of beguile him... none of these things would work. Instead I thank him for his service, and acknowledge that sometimes it is right to close the door: in defense, or to prevent unwise wandering, but I tell him that I am too quick to close the door and that I need to learn to open it more, and move out from my comfort into the wide world more. He agrees that I need this. He will man the door for me, but it will always be my responsibility to choose when to open it.
In the South is the great feathered serpent, over the lush green jungle. He is the master of the path, the one who sets the trials, the creator of the labyrinth that we must navigate to reach our goals. I can honor him each morning by lighting a flame, gazing at it, and thinking of its powers and gifts.
The adversary of the south appears as a huge winged skull that flies in darkness. It is the ashes of lost hopes; the possible futures that once could have been but can now no longer be; the future selves that have been killed by my past choices. It flies at me and tries to bite me. I cannot unmake those choices, and even if I could it would destroy some other future. Every choice and action creates its future only by destroying others. I acknowledge this, and admit that I would not return to these choices, but I still grieve for what cannot be. I spread my arms and accept the pain of its bite, the pain of loss that is unavoidable. The pain remains. It will never not be, nor will it be belittled or smothered with platitudes.
In the West is crested lizard or horny toad, the consort of the moon, sitting on a stone in the desert with the stars behind him. He is the master of the gate of learning, the fruits of the journey; the stars are the myriad possibilities that are the consequence of my choices. I can honor him by gazing at the stars.
The adversary of the west appears to me as Christ suffering on the cross. He is choices held onto past their time, decisions clung to but never reexamined. What is right and good at one point in your life can become a burden and a barrier later if you stop questioning. Doing this can condemn us all to being crucified on the cross of our past choices. I can honor him, and remind myself to keep an open mind and heart, by breaking a thread.
In the North is the vast hall of the king, dressed in sable and crowned with ice. The north star is over his head. He is the lord of bards and storytellers, and the lord of hope and of light in the darkness. In his hall are told the stories of all those who have braved the journey and won through to the end. I can honor him with song. It can be a light or funny song, it is the act of singing out that opens the heart to joy.
The adversary of the north is a huge white dragon. He represents the demands of the world, the duties and responsibilities of daily life. He desires to rip out my heart and eat it, just as work, money, and other demands will destroy my soul, unless I can keep a balance that honors both the spiritual and emotional side of my life and the practical side. I can honor him with herbs that feed both the body and the soul.
Monday, October 22, 2007
After my Level 2 class
The Reiki level 2 class with was wonderful. I have been using the symbols with my wife's horse a lot this week; she is in a lot of pain with (I think) a hoof abscess that is trying to break out. The Cho Ku Rei is very effective, and really ramps up the energy level. Yesterday, after settling her in her stall for the night, I tried to lay a ring of protection and healing around the stall and fill it with energy for her – it was a sudden impulse and the symbols to use just came to me and seemed right. Assistance from my guides? That is what it felt like. What an exciting journey! I also asked the moon and several spiders, who were watching, to watch over her and help her.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)