New Year Blessings!

  For most who celebrate Samhain, today marks the first day of a new year. I decided to take the day off and truly mark the day. Most of us, whether we say Goddess, Spirit, God, Jesus, Allah (and countless other designations), mean the same thing at a cellular level...not with our heads or even hearts, but down in some deep core we mean something greater than us, something that steers us, knows who we are. And many of us have experienced that prodigal sense of loss, whether we feel the Divine has abandoned us, or we sullenly and firmly turn our backs on that Spirit because something didn't go our way. And every once in awhile, we aren't sure which of those scenarios we're playing out, but regardless of who is to blame, the result is the same...a disconnect, a clanging disharmony that can leave us, in our quiet moments, feeling very alone. I've written before of my spiritual struggles (and laziness), my desire to leave those struggles behind and inability to figure out how to move forward. I'll confess that I've gone from being  someone who often created rituals not just for myself, but for others as well, and wrote regularly about the power of daily ritual, to someone who smugly turns my nose up at such things. I've told myself rituals are crutches and what we hold in our minds, hearts and souls is the only relevant interaction with our Divine. I've told myself that remembering to say thank you at the end of the day was enough.

I was wrong. For me and my path anyway. Spectacularly wrong. 

  As part of welcoming in this new year, I took a solitary walk at Ramshorn-Livingston Sanctuary. I used to wander woods and trails alone on a regular basis, but it's been several years since I last did that. I feel guilty leaving Linda and/or the dogs behind; I feel selfish if I say I want to abandon some of our precious time together for an hour or two off in the woods. But today I did. I started by asking Goddess for some guidance, asked what I needed to know for the year ahead, how to begin to reconnect with Her. I didn't expect much; after all, we've been polite acquaintances for a few years now, with not much to say. I hadn't been walking for more than ten minutes when a single word came to me: Grounded. I need to focus on being more grounded, figuratively but more important, literally.

  I'm an Air sign (not that I speak astrology). I'm all about words and thoughts. My body is just along for the ride, which is why it's so easy to abuse it with poor food choices and no exercise. I observe and analyze more than participate, a trait that's grown more distinct in the last 7 or 8 years. I'd rather plan and dream about perfect gardens, even plant the seeds, than actually work in the dirt and tend the plants. I'd rather imagine myself strong, healthy & fit than get on the treadmill. I think about spirituality, not embody it. But within minutes of beginning my trek, entering into a world scented with the muddy brine left behind by Sandy, punctuated by the far-off peals of bald eagles, the raucous cries of crows, and the calls of Canadian geese far above, I knew my request was being answered: 

what I need to know, and re-learn this year, is groundedness.

  Ritual does matter. We need to touch, taste, listen, smell and see the tangible before we allow our spirits to soar with the angels (or dance with the faeries). At least, I do. All religions have rituals; they are touch stones that root us, give us placeholders in our lives, soothe and comfort. And so, that's my Samhain resolution...to stop thinking of ritual as training wheels, and begin again living a life that includes daily ritual. Oh, I can do without the trappings that don't speak to me like wands, athames, cloaks and ritual names (these are powerful tools for some; but they never felt quite comfortable for me). I need ritual that's about the life we're living here...small things like stepping onto the porch every morning to greet the new day, being more diligent about my flamekeeping in honor of Brighid, tending the seeds we plant, embracing the ritual aspects of cooking, greeting the moon each night as I used to do. And casting ritual circles to mark the turning of the Wheel. 

   As I looked over the muddy water, listening to its music, such joy rose in me...it started in my boot-clad feet, curling up and around me, body, heart, soul. I remembered the feeling and had thought it long gone, an ecstatic joy of the spirit that physically manifests as warmth and energy (not unlike Reiki for those who are familiar with that). It's a precious and rare gift I would share with everyone if it was possible.

I was of earth and sky, water and air, part and parcel of this place. 

My favorite Goddess chant became a chorus in my head: Earth my body, Water my blood, Air my breath and Fire my Spirit...I had started this journey wanting to find my way home.

The Goddess wrapped Her arms around me and whispered "You're already here."

Happy New Year...may your feet carry you to exactly where you need to be.

"Time is Fleeting...

...madness takes its toll".  As well it might, given how weekends race by at the speed of light!  This one was as short as all its predecessors, but wasn't solely devoted to chores this time.  There was fragrant, bubbling apple butter; a brief, long-overdue but sweet birthday porch visit with a friend who is dearly missed; coffee on our porch this morning; a long ramble through Ramshorn-Livinston Sanctuary with Linda and Yeti; and a journey to Spruce Ridge Farm in Chatham to see alpacas (photos to follow). Ever see the Kohler commercial with the snooty, upper-crusty couple who plops a rather ugly faucet on the internationally famous architect's desk and orders "Design a house around this."?  Well, an alpaca 3' x 5' rug in cream, sand and chocolate has become the inspiration for our one-day upstairs bathroom: a year+ ago we brought home a clawfoot tub to someday put in that room; a minor disaster in the existing 1/2 bath up there last week (miraculously and most efficiently repaired totally by the Jill-of-all-trades I call 'beloved'), and today's rug--which instantly captivated Linda--are all coalescing into a vision for a wonderful bathing retreat.  Of course, we can't even start until we empty the storage room up there, which we can't empty until we clean out the garage so we have somewhere to store all that stuff, and so on and so on and so on. 
Our visit with the alpacas raised again that round-and-round-we-go question: do we want to raise alpacas?  SHOULD we raise alpacas?  My answer before was pretty much "if we aren't ready to even commit to a dog, should we be considering livestock?".  Well, um, there would now be a Yeti sprawled on her back in the office as I write, so we've jumped that hurdle.  Should we wait until an alpaca as unceremoniously and unexpectedly crosses our path?  Do we want one to hug and cuddle and give Yeti something to herd (the cats have made it clear with barely a glance that they are not now, nor will they ever be, open to herding  by Yeti or anyone else, thank you very much), and occasionally get some fleece from for spinning and knitting as a bonus? Or do we want a life of beekeeping and raising alpacas (and maybe some sheep and goats) and growing herbs and such because that's what the next curve in the path is leading us to? 
So let's recap....cooler temperatures, lovely scenery, some healthy exercise, engaging conversation, lots of adorable critters both foreign and domestic, good food, plans and mind-twisters, and a whole day spent savoring Linda's company while not attending to an excess of chores.  I'd call that a successful weekend....any wonder I can't bear to see it end?

Ah....Now I Remember

Yeti and I strolled through the Ramshorn-Livingston Sanctuary this morning, and as we listened to water shushing through cattails and loosestrife and the chittering of flocks of redwing blackbirds, watched the powerful flight of a great blue heron, felt the kiss of sunlight and caress of Fall-like breeze, I realized how much I've missed long woodsy wanderings.  For years, taking walks in the woods was a natural and magickal part of my life.  I've done ritual within a ring of ancient trees and had a herd of deer dash through my circle.  I've celebrated the first day of Spring in the rain, surrounded by woods high atop a bluff looking over the Hudson...and been awed that my candles stayed lit until the ritual was done, despite the raindrops.  I once walked the dappled paths at Stonykill feeling truly broken by a relationship that was causing as much suffering as pleasure.  As I wandered, crying, railing at the Universe and asking the Goddess for wisdom and solace, She led me to a nut, cracked open with a gaping wound but fresh and green, and whispered that sometimes one's heart has to be broken open so it can heal and grow.  Once while racing to teach a class, my car navigated itself on a detour to my then-favorite wooded place.  Although I argued about having someplace to be, I was soon at the edge of a woodland pond, and was gifted with an otherworldly joy that surged from the Earth, through my body, fountaining out of my head and raining back down into every cell, and back to the Earth Herself.  Only then was I allowed to head to my class.  For years the woods were my home, my place of peace, and solitary walks weren't lonely; they were the moments that I shut up and listened to Her.  Today I remembered all of that--the joy, the peace, the comfort, the whisperings, the wisdom...and while wandering with a Yeti is a wee bit different than the meditative meanderings of the past, for sure these woodsy walks are making a welcome and most blessed return.....