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Spiritual practice October 16, 2008

Posted by frostwolftfirerose in Uncategorized.
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Each day that I wake up, I blearily go through the routine of making my breakfast, and even though I mostly forget to say so, I am quite grateful for the 1/2 cup of Bob’s Red Mill Hot Tasty Gluten-Free cereal, 2T nuts, cup of fruit and 2 scrambled eggs, along with my 1/2 cup of chicken broth and 3 cups of coffee (throughout the morning).  It’s my standard breakfast, and it’s my favorite.  I frequently remember to give gratitude to Gaia and to all the other beings that are a part of my meal, energetically or substantially.  That includes the truckers and the pickers and the grocers, btw, as well as the chickens, embryos, corn, blueberries, etc.

Once I eat, rinse off my bowl, cup and silverware and set up my measured items for the next day–I like to just start cooking–I start to prepare for my altar work.  With all my studies, some days they take longer.  Other days it’s just a half an hour.  I also spend about half an hour writing my morning pages, which are currently being spent on writing whatever comes to mind with my Taliesin offering.  I guess in a way I’m crafting a literary spell with this work.  And I just call it “Taliesin’s Book.”  “Taliesin’s Offering Book” might be better put, so I’m going to refer to it that way.

Today, I used a certain practice that I’m loath to discuss.  The work I do is secret, and I need to maintain silence about it, even though the work’s effects come out in my interactions with the larger world.  It’s partly because of the silent container provided by performing tasks secretly (and skyclad, I might add) that creates the power.  I know this as a writer too, that talking about what I’m working on too early with people can dilute the power of the creative effort.  A play needs to be further along, or a story or a poem, before I can really share it with folks.

This practice I did today though really sparks up my etheric body.  Part of this comes from the other practices I do, especially Iron Pentacle.  I talk about that one because Thorn Coyle has discussed and described its workings in her book.  I will not talk about IP’s effects on me necessarily, other than to say I feel the red-hot energy running through me burning out different spiritual toxins at the points of Sex, Pride, Self, Power and Passion and that I can direct my attentions to each of these points as needed.

I do this work because I can’t NOT do this work.  It feels good, feels necessary and right to me to cultivate relationships with Mama Tierra, deities like Cerridwen and Dian-y-Glas, guides (Obatala, Albus Dumbledore, Ben Franklin, Grace, Fearn, Iao, Taliesin, Johnny Cash), ancestors, Gunder, Diana and the other spirits of my neighborhood etc.  And for me the next realm in which to push will be meeting the flesh-and-blood embodied spirits of my area. 

Things are looking up with this work too, especially as regards my theater work.  Working with others on a project for the 3rd weekend in November jazzes me and a few others up!  It’s going to be a blast!  And for me, this will have a spiritual dimension.  The play I’m writing operates from a place of this sacredness that emerges with all of my practices.

As I progress with this work, I see also that the silence does another thing.  I see that certain monomaniacal elements in our culture are getting CRAZier and crazier.  (Crazeeeeeee!)  In the film Jesus Camp, “Pastor Becky” doesn’t have any clue that she’s doing it, but she crafts spells herself.  Irony of ironies, she has not the slightest notion that from the viewpoint of witches and pagans, she is doing the exact thing that we do, only we’re trying to work WITH the earth and WITH our communities and we strive to discover the place of loving interactions with all forms if possible.  In doing this work, we need to constantly pay attention to protective magic, precisely because demon-seeking Jayzus-suckers such as Pastor Becky spew “Christian death magic” on those who disagree with them.  (I think I said that the craziest spell caster out there was probably Pat Robertson, praying that hurricanes hit Orlando during gay days, and attracting a hurricane to his own state of Virginia.)  The counterspells seem to be doing some good it seems, because they just get more and more insane, more and more out-of-control.  The masks they wear fall increasingly to the side, and the reasonable among us are finally getting concerned.  Too bad it’s out of fear, but there you go.

Fundamentalisms of all sorts clash, and it occurred to me today as I was reading a book of thoughts and observations about ecology and the soul, that I have my own judgments and limiting beliefs, and that my practice creates a safe container to transform these in the fires and waters love and cleansing.  There are the Abrahamics and atheists, the market fundamentalists and those who cling to their poverty.  The middle way attracts me, but it is not easy.  Some things clutch onto my spirit for dear life, and I have to say to them, “it’s time now.  You need to be transformed to serve a higher function.” As I go through it as well.

Ah, life!

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