UK Eclipse

Today, there was a total eclipse in America. Not so over here… but there was certainly something going on in the air.

As the day went on, I grew increasingly tired. Unable to concentrate, having trouble doing much of anything.

This gradually turned into a terrible attack of anxiety and depression, which had been threatening all day. Himself wasn’t immune either.

We resolved to head into the village for a quick ‘hit and run’ (not literally) to the shops, to find something cheering for tea. 

Heading outside, the silence was eerie. The light was bright enough at 7.30pm, but strangely yellowish. The air felt thick, cloying and heavy. Nobody else was about.

As we returned up the hill (mission successful), clouds hid both sun and moon. But as we turned towards home, there was a glimmer of sky and some sunbeams. By the time we stepped out of the car, the eclipse would be over – and the air felt amazingly fresh. I could breathe again! 

It’s still happening. My head feels lighter, sounds and visuals brighter, thoughts clearer. Something has changed as the world turned.

As I couldn’t take a picture of the eclipse (and as many have asked), here’s a picture of the extremely pink circular vortex of my in-progress knitting (atop a sleeping Fen). Which feels even softer to my touch now, too. Creativity in yarn and in words here, for your consideration.

We bear witness to the movements of the universe, just along for the ride…

xx


(Yarn is a OOAK by CountessAblaze, Pattern is ‘Mint Latte’)

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Coincidence…

I’ve often said that I don’t really believe in coincidences any more. Here’s one example of why.

Today, while performing a Handfasting ritual, I called to the elements to set the space, as I always do. It was a sunny, calm day, but we were indoors due to the physical needs of those present.

Air made itself known by billowing the curtains on command (and cheekily blowing the skirt of my robe). Water likewise, by having the kitchen tap suddenly burst out some drips when called.

This may seem to be just my noticing because I was looking at that precise moment. Except that something like this happens at every single ritual I’ve ever done.

From rainbows appearing when the couple say their vows, to storms waiting until we’re done before letting rip (more than once).

And that’s before I even mention what happens when I call on ancestors or Gods by name.

Many years of such occurrences have taught me to keep both an open mind and open eyes. You call with true intent… you will get an answer.

Something to bear in mind next time you say ‘Oh Gods, help.’ 😉

Small Steps

Hard times. But I am moving.

Today, I have a cold. Sneezing, coughing, battling to keep warm (or cool), headachey… brain too furry to do much. Plans put by the wayside as I return to bed.

But something shifts in me, as I sit and think. 

In recent times, my head has been almost suffocated by the thick fog of negative thoughts. But with recent medication changes, I’m starting to see clarity again. The fog is thinning. My lovely doctor is thrilled that my natural smile is returning.

I’m finding myself again. I walk around this house, where I’ve lived for ten years now. My home, with my wee family. Full of the stuff of our lives: physical things holding unique memories, but also games played on the stairs with kittens, pups rolling around on the rug, hugs and laughter in every room…

When that black fog (dog?) rolls in, my tactics are now taking effect. I light a candle for focus and brightness. I burn sweet incense to remind me of magic and ritual. I walk barefoot across the wooden floors, wrap myself in blankets I knitted, immerse myself in stories that engage…

I write random thoughts to share, for those who may feel as I do. To prove that I can still express myself, create, speak up – that my mind is my own. This is me. I’m still moving. It is possible.

The cold germs force rest. With every sneeze, badness is spat out and my head clears (briefly!). I trust that my body does its thing and evicts the toxic, as I am trying to do with the unhelpful thoughts. 

I reach out with my words… magic from the tips of my fingers, to reach you.

And I smile as I imagine you reading. 

Much love, my friends.

Wands

Today… still tough times, but doing my best. 

A lovely gift-to-self arrived, as recommended by an old friend. Two magic wand/crochet hooks, created by the talented LittleBirdSOS on Etsy. 

This is a skill I’m really not great at, but with such tools and super-soft yarn, I’m going to be making something pretty!

Even if a day is dark or difficult, I hope to have something to show for those few hours. Inspiration in creativity – even if it’s a bit wonky!  

Remember: it’s not a mistake. It’s a feature… 😉

Visiting the Otherworld

Awake in a hotel room at 4am this morning, to reach Stonehenge just after sunrise.

Fog wraps the land in a blanket. Driving is a challenge, carefully navigating the obscured pathways and sudden signs, as well as roaming wildlife. Every move forward reminds me of the journeys we tell in story, of stepping through the mists into the Otherworld. I’ve no idea what lies beyond.

Barefoot on damp grass, I step into the circle. Breathing deep, the words come and the ritual begins. I’m aware of those watching, in body and in spirit. Focus. Feel the weight of the stones.

Cameras are clicking, guards in high-visibility coats hold the space in their own way. Curious jackdaws glide overhead. I feel welcomed, held, just one of so many who have held similar rites in this small area across the centuries. The powerful places help us mark the important times in our lives, after all.

We conclude, congratulate and smile. Questions come, thick and fast, but all curious and well-meant. Small applause from random strangers, caught up in the theatrics of the moment, but happy to be part of something…

We all return to our everyday lives. I will perform this rite again, perhaps even in this place. Every one unique, every day its own. Walking the line between the Otherworld as it touches this.

Each memory of such an occasion is held, honoured and celebrated. And I’m so very glad to be a part of it.

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Telling Tales

I love books.

This is such an understatement. Those of you who know me… well, you’re probably the ones who’ve called me a Bookaholic (hey, it’s a relatively cheap and safe addiction!). I have to have reading matter about my person at all times. My bookshelves rarely have gaps.

So I love, of course, to hear about new books, with exciting uncracked spines that I haven’t explored yet.

Sometimes I ask for recommendations from friends, as a random dip into the reading worlds of other people. Social media is great for this, and today did not disappoint. Heaps of ideas ensued, which started to follow a trend for ‘magical realism’. As a good Bibliomancer, I’m not one to ignore the signs when they’re right in front of me – so I’ll be duly investigating these new territories with enthusiasm.

Then I remembered – years ago, I created a list of recommendations myself, when I was being asked about Pagan-related fiction. A quick hunt and it turned up here. Some well-known titles, some more below-the-radar – but all fondly held in my mind and heart.

Books are to be shared. Stories are part of my spirituality, the myths that make up my life. I even recall dressing up as a Greek Goddess for school once. Now I’m living my tale with greater awareness as each day/page turns.

What book holds you in its spell right now?