Welcoming the Winter… Begrudgingly.

Well it is very much official that winter is here in Alberta! The season has been making itself known for a while here. We were blessed with a long and lazy summer. Even by mid September we had bright sunny days, and the leaves had barely shifted colour. Some had started the process by early October, when over the Canadian Thanksgiving weekend we had some snow flurries and a few chilly days. Things warmed up again for a while, then the week before Samhain we got hit with snow, freezing  rains here and there, a full week of ice fog and freezing cold nights. Then on Samhain itself it snowed, and it really snowed, at my house I had at least two inches to shovel through. My newly purchased winter tires (with many thanks and love to my husband who made sure I had them) got a real workout the same day they were put on my car!

It felt like we did not have a fall at all. The leaves on my Rowan and apple trees have now turned brown and are being blown off when the wind decides to give us a good blast, but they never really turned. I had not had the chance to get the fallen crabapples up off the ground from where they fell, my garden was nowhere near ready for this sudden dump of snow, and I have to be honest, neither was I! Being sick with a nasty cold this past week I have been keeping myself thoroughly buried under the blankets and trying my best to do that “lalalala, if I can’t see you, then you don’t exist” routine. I also was rather miserable at having only a week or two of my favorite season (Autumn) to enjoy. However, no matter how hard I tried, winter is not going to go away for a while (especially here in Central Alberta).

A few days ago we were blessed with a bright day where the temperature made it as high as 5 degrees Celsius! (Some people from warmer climates are probably going to think I am crazy for calling that a high temperature!) I had the day off work and decided not to waste the day. I opened all our windows to air out the house before we had to “batten down the hatches” again. I did some housework (actually a lot of housework, after being sick for a week it really piled up!) sweeping, vacuuming and mopping the floors. For wedding present my husband and I used a gift card to buy a steam mop, what a blessed invention that is!!! Two cups of water with in it and the floors are beautify clean and sanitized without any heavy chemicals! I used peppermint oil in my oil lamp and moved it in each room as I cleaned, for protection and purification! Between that and the sunshine beaming into the house I could feel the entire energy of the house, and my own, lift!

When the sun had softened up the snow I tackled our driveway with a shovel. While taking one of my many breathers (snow is heavy and I really need to get in shape!) I looked across into the fields near my house and watched two foxes playing a game of chase and evade in the field. They ran after one another, jumping onto each other, rolling in the snow and bounding around! It was an absolute delight to see. I then moved to our uncovered deck to get the snow off. As I shoveled and rested I looked into the yard and saw our puppy engaging in a new game, our puppy (well she is now a year old, but it takes almost two years for dogs to grow out of the puppy brain) was having a treasure hunt in the snow. Digging down and finding the crabapples that I had not been able to gather under the snow. She pulled them up, throwing them in the air and chasing to where they landed. She then raced around the yard with it; diving head first into larger snow drifts every chance she got! She rolled in the snow and when she got tired she would gobble a mouthful of snow, and eat her apple.

As the sun began to slip out of the sky the temperature dropped, reminding me that even though it was a warm sunny day, we are in the dark half of the year. Taking a reluctant puppy inside with me I tackled making some supper and placed it in the oven to finish cooking. I went to the fireplace and lit a fire with some nice cedar firewood my husband’s mom had let us take from her backyard. I threw in a pinch of salt and a few sage leaves and then sat, enjoying the warmth of the fire while waiting for my husband to come home. As I sat I reflect how nice it was to have a day at home to get caught up.

I then began to think of the past few weeks, of the cold and the snow, and the nasty roads we had to endure! I then thought of the foxes playing in the snow, and the puppy’s mad cap sport through the yard. I let my tired muscles relax as I rested and thought of all the farmland around my house, resting like I was after all the activity of the summer. The fields that had been tilled, seeded, supported the growth of their crops and then harvested are now silent and still. The earth, the creatures in the earth such as the earthworms, soil nutrients and bacteria’s, all granted a respite brought on by the snow.

I also began to think of my garden, all the great things that came out of it… and the long hours of backbreaking work I put into it! Since harvesting (thank Goddess I got that done before the snow flew) I have not done any gardening asides from keeping my poor houseplants alive. I thought about how it was nice to not have to weed, or mow the lawn anymore. I thought of long nights cuddling by the fire with the pets and my husband, about all the reading I want to get done over the winter, the big Yule dinner I am planning on hosting (our first Yule in the new house and first time hosting!!!!). I also planned a few changes in my pagan room, and the sorting and organizing and clearing out of clutter I plan on undertaking while the snow flies.

I also noticed how much my thoughts have been turning within. Examining myself, my motivations, and actions. Not always a pretty sight when one reflects on the times one has lost her temper, or not been as kind as she could have been. I looked a bit at some of my reactions to things, at some of the anger I have been holding onto that has not made me the most pleasant person to be around (and how lucky I am that my husband puts up with the moodiness I sometimes toss out). I planned out the basic bones of some cleansing and releasing rituals I want to work on over the next few weeks and some changes I want to make within.

Sitting there, beside the glow of the fire, with content puppies snoozing at my feet and my cat purring in my lap, I began to understand the need for winter, the need for the cold. I understood the blessings that the winter has bestowed upon me and the opportunities that the dark time of year has granted me. I am still not thrilled at the shoveling, or having to scrape the windshield every day. And I am not liking the taking extra time to drive home, and having to bundle up just to look out the door. But I welcome the winter… begrudgingly.

 Yours Humbly

The Redneck Pagan

Service

A while ago I was watching a television show with my husband. In this show there was a society that was divided into Castes. The Worker Caste, the Warrior Caste and the Religious Caste. Each Caste had their own leaders, and the leaders from each Caste came together in a council to guide the society as a whole.  In this part of the television show the Council of the Castes had been broken, and the Castes had been embroiled in a Civil war, with the Warrior Caste attacking the Religious Caste. The Religious Caste, being unable to withstand the forces of the Warrior Caste Surrendered. A trial of strength between the leader of the Religious Caste and the leader of the Warrior Caste ensued to determine the new leaders and at the end the Religious Caste came out as the winning Caste.

The winning leader set up a new council in which the previously ignored Worker Caste held the majority of the seats on the council. The leader explained her choice: “You had forgotten the worker caste, hadn't you? When our two sides fight, they're the ones caught in the middle, forgotten that it's their time to serve, to build, and to die. They built the temples we pray in, the ships you fight in. They look to us to guide their hands. But prayers are fleeting and wars forgotten. What is built endures. They do not wish to conquer or convert, only to build the future. And now, they will have that chance. The religious caste and the warrior caste will advise and council. We will serve, as is proper. Religion and war must act in the service of the people, not the other way around.”  The last line really struck a chord with me: “Religion (...) must act in service of the people.” It’s a powerful statement that was made there. It’s one of those moments where something hits you like a ton of bricks, at least I know it did for me.

I like to think of myself as a very spiritual person, I think most pagans do. We watch the seasons change, keep tabs on the moon phases, most of us have altars and shrines in our homes as daily reminders of the divine. I pray often and think about the Gods often. I try very hard to treat people as the God and Goddess within I know they have (i.e. I try and be nice, respectful and kind. I don't always succeed, but I try). I perform rituals and cast spells from time to time. In our house alone we have one large wall Shrine to the gods, an Ancestor Shrine, a small shrine on the bookcase beside my bed and in my pagan room I have a wall shrine and my main altar. So I have really worked hard at having spiritual spots spread throughout our home. At work I have spiritual pictures (for me that includes stone circles, angels and pictures of Gods and Goddesses I follow) with me and I try to surround myself with beautiful natural items such as shells, pine cones or go outside in nature.

I am very good at taking care of my spiritual needs and try to be good at cultivating a daily spiritual practice. I must say that my spiritual practice has served me well. I draw strength and comfort from my practices and from the Gods. I feel it has made a much better person, has made me stronger and more compassionate. Some of the spells I have worked have been very successful such as the spell I cast to find a good job and the spell my husband and I cast to find our house. (Obviously we paired it with a heck of a lot of work such as resumes, job hunting, keeping a good credit rating etc.) So again I say, my religious practices has served myself and my family exceptionally well.

Then I began to ask myself the question... What do I do to serve my Gods? I am definitely not a priestess! Although I have been practicing for nine years I still truly believe I am more of a novice than anything else. I have no real formal training and do not belong to a coven, circle or grove. My own personal studies are very sporadic and tend not to have any real discipline to them. I tend to float from topic to topic and up until very recently would read a book, go to the next, trying to get that next spiritual high (as you know). I have recently started trying to cultivate discipline in my practices but I am not very far long and certainly am not an expert!

Ok so I do not serve in a group, nor am I really experienced enough to be clergy. So what do I do? Well one of the ways that I serve is through my job. I am an administrative assistant in a hospital. I work for three managers and under them are a bunch of therapists who directly treat our clients. We treat the elderly, stroke victims, accident victims, people with strain injuries and many others. My work tends to be very boring and repetitive at times. I do a lot of typing, data entry and a lot of phone calls. However, by doing my job well I free up our therapists to treat the clients rather than chasing paperwork, and I free up the managers to help create new programs that will address the needs of our clients better. Although I am not directly helping the clients, my work is vital to them getting the care they need, and through that I feel I serve the Gods by helping ensure my fellow humans get the care they need.

So I serve with my job, that's great (well I think so anyway) but is this the only way I serve the Gods. Well actually no, it's not. Two nights and a day out of the week I work with a local youth organization. This youth organization is free for teenagers and has no other requirements besides the minimum and maximum age ranges. So any young person who wants to join can. From there they get to go camping, go flying (right up to and including getting a pilots license), go on trips around the province and possible even overseas. We teach them map and compass, have a band they can join and teach them how to safely use a firearm.

I volunteered with the group for five years and in the past four years I have been paid a little for my work (I make enough to cover the gas to and from our activities). I spend a lot of time with these young people, sometimes they talk to me about problems in their lives, sometimes they share with me their interests, their ups and downs. I do the best I can to comfort them, reassure them, share their joys and be there. Some of the kids come to us from bad backgrounds, some of them have no where else where they feel safe and accepted. We strive to create an environment that they can feel loved, accepted. We also teach them leadership skills and citizenship, to help them grow to become productive young adults and give them the confidence that they can accomplish anything in life.

The work is stressful, as a rule teenagers are impulsive! Their hormones are going a little crazy, their brains are changing and developing and they are still trying to figure out who they are. They have days where they are brilliant... and days when you can only shake your head at the strange feat they have attempted. There are long hours, preparing training plans, lessons, full weekend activities and as with anything... paperwork! It's enough to make anybody want to pull their hair out, but I do love it. I love having the opportunity to watch them grow, discover who they are and where they can go! By making them better people today, I can ensure a better future for them, for all they encounter, for my country and for the world.

To me the work I do with the young people in the youth program, and even the work I do in my day to day job part of my service to the Gods. While I am not the mighty High Priestess, or lead a coven, or conduct rituals for starry eyed admirers, I still work with what I am good at to create a better world. Some may argue that this is not service to the Gods, and I have to respectfully disagree with them.

Yours Humbly

The Redneck Pagan

The Perfect Athame

As some of you may recall I have recently decided to go back to the basics of my knowledge and experience and begin a process of going deeper. And for those of you who are scratching their heads and wondering if I spent too much time with the glue cap off here is an excerpt from an earlier blog post to explain:

“I am beginning to realize how little I actually know (…)I mean I have read probably over a hundred books, but rarely stopped to really read them. I would do one or two exercises and then go to the next. I skimmed over the material without properly allowing myself the time and effort to go deeper.

With that little epiphany in mind I do believe it is time for me to go back to the basics! (…) I am finding myself digging out those 101 books that have been collecting dust, and have started re-reading them. My next goal is to start doing the exercises, and really documenting my results. Not just the half fast skimming I did before, but really seeking the experiences and knowledge. How successful I will be, I don’t yet know. We shall find out how much determination, discipline and dedication I have. “

So with that primer in hand forwards we go!

In going over the basics I have discovered something of note… the stuff that used to make my heart race with excitement, the books I spent hours reading and much time and money locating and acquiring… are getting rather boring! This has been a far more difficult task than I initially gave it credit for. Now before the fingers start wagging and people start saying “you said you were going deeper”, I have been doing the work (my mother would be shocked at how well I have been doing my “homework”). I have diligently gone through all of the exercises in the first third of one of my basic books. Having said that the first third of the book was a primer on craft history and some basic jargon. Very important stuff for anybody with an interest in Witchcraft and Paganism. However I recently read Doreen Valiente’s “The Rebirth of Witchcraft”, and after reading about craft history from a Lady who was present for much of it, well the 101 stuff is boring.

So after the history of the Craft, the Jargon, types of witchcraft. One of my 101 books  then covers magical tools. There is the basic correspondences of the tools, Athame and the Wand represents the God, Cauldron and Chalice the Goddess. And of course the four elements: Cauldron/Chalice for Water, Pentacle for Earth, Wand for Fire, Athame for Air (or depending on your tradition Athame for Fire and Wand for Air). I decided to review some material on the different tools, being nine years away from my first introduction I felt it was important to review and check up on newest teachings and theories.

I stumbled across the usual descriptions: the Athame is a black handled, double edge knife used by Witches to direct energy. Witches typically use it to charge items, cast their circle, cutting astral cords. It is never used to cut anything on the physical plane, and some argue that it looses its power if it ever draws blood. I then read about how it is supposed to be made. Made? Uh oh!

According one author a witch should always try to make their own Athame! I give this author full credit, he goes into great detail on how one should go about it. He explains the equipment needed, ways to get it done, the proper metals to use, wood in the fire, symbols you can carve onto the blade or the handle and even how to consecrate it. And I have to agree with his reasoning: when a witch takes the time, effort and intention on the creation of the Athame it becomes part of them, it becomes part of their power. I can see that and understand that, I just have a problem… I am not what you would call handy!

 

When I was younger and living with my parents we bought a bunch of Ikea furniture for the house. My mother and I shopped and brought it home, and then my father and I put it together. The reason my father and I had to put it together is because my mother and brother refused to work with us. My dad is a brilliant man, he’s been a teacher for over 30 years now, he has helped revamp parts of the elementary school curriculum and I hate playing Trivial Pursuit with the man because I always get my assets handed to me! But for the love of the Gods… DO NOT give that man a hammer. (When I first brought my husband home to meet my father he was a little hesitant as my husband is a bit older than I am. My husband proceeded to fix his sink trap and tap and realign some closets on their track. My father turned to me and said “I love him, keep him!”) I have inherited some of my father’s difficulty with tools.

I can recall one day when my husband and I had first moved in together. He was watching a documentary on TV and I was in the bedroom hanging pictures. There was a picture I wanted hung up that was out of my reach. He said he would come hang it up at the next commercial break. I, being the soul of patience, decided to take matters into my own hands. I stacked some towels on the edge of the bed and standing with one foot on the towels and one braced against the wall I prepared to hammer the nail. Well the hammer was on the floor (and my perch felt a bit precarious), so I grabbed the closest thing I had, a high heeled shoe. As I was about to hammer the nail in when I heard “What the hell are you doing!` My husband lifted me off my perch (he is six foot three inches and I am five feet two inches, he lifted me under the one arm like a rag doll, I am sure it was an amusing sight for the dogs) and took care of the picture for me.

Ok, so having said that.. I really don’t think having me playing with a forge and other blacksmiths materials is the best idea. The life I save could be my own, and I think the fire department does not want to have to stop the inevitable fire. So what should I do? Well the next option is receiving one as a gift from another magical person… Well I live in Central Alberta, not exactly the place you will find a lot of practicing Pagans.. and my first years I was very much a solitary practitioner. So receiving one as a gift would have been ideal... but not exactly practical.

Being eager to begin my practice (and being too new to fully understand where the power lay) I began to scour the city for the Perfect Athame. Dollar stores, Wal-Mart, Zellers and second hand stores became my playground. I bought several different types of knives (ranging in price from 50 cents to five bucks). Nothing seemed to be working and I was getting very discouraged. I was too new to truly understand the idea of magic within and was worried that if I was unable to find a real and proper Athame that I would never be a proper witch (silly sounding now, but a huge fear at the time).

I had settled on using one of the knives I had picked up at Wal-Mart, it had the best feel in the handle and wasn't very sharp. I was having decent success with the knife, but it never felt right. My subconscious was not satisfied with the toy I was using! This was of course 9 years ago, before the Internet had really took off, sites like eBay were in their infancy and specialty websites were few and far between. I had tried to find Athame's online but they were well out of a college student's budget.

One day I was digging through some of my old treasure boxes (you know, the boxes you keep under your bed, filled with what other people might call junk). While digging through the box I came across a knife. This particular type of knife is known as a Sgian Dubh (pronounced Skin-Doo), they are a type of Scottish small knife they kept next to the calf in their socks. I received it years ago from Grandfather. He had bought it for me years ago when he was visiting his brother in Dublin. When he had bought it for me I was playing in a pipe band and was a Highland Dancer.

I wore it for two years in the pipe band and another year and a half as a Highland Dancer. I took it out anytime I did a performance of a Sword Dance or Highland Fling for an additional two years after that, and then when I no longer danced I put it away and had not thought of it for years until I found it again. When I picked it up I felt like it almost sang in my hand! I began to toy with the notion of using it as my Athame.

It had many positive characteristics, it was double edged but was blunted so as not to hurt me. It was in a sheath, so I could put it in a bag and take it with me to outdoor rituals if I wanted. The handle was black and was made of a solid moulded plastic. It was a gift from my Irish Grandfather (incidentally my path is most closely related to Irish Reconstructionalism and it was my Irish roots and the mythology of my people that first got me interested in paganism). It came from my family's homeland and so had a connection to the land of my ancestors. And I had worn it during high energy activities that I loved!

I gave it a try for the first time at a Sabbat (I think it was Samhain, but it might have been Mabon, my Magical Record keeping is a skill I lack). It just seemed to click. It felt perfect in my hand, I felt powerful with it, mysterious and magical. In recent years I have seen some beautiful Athames, many of which have been "properly made" and most at a very reasonable price. But I have never had a desire to get a new one, as I have found my Perfect Athame.

Yours Humbly

The Readneck Pagan