Perhaps not here…

I won’t be around as much as I normally am, my dear friends, for just a little while. I am well, and my boy is well, but we have things happening at home which require my full attention and I am not in a good place just now. I’ll say more when I get back. Much love.

Life Supervenes

As you run along, doing what you can, thinking about things that are sometimes fairly far from home, you can lay yourself open to getting blown up, metaphorically speaking - the most unlikely things can happen without any warning.

Amazingly, this has happened to me this week; utterly affirming the belief I hold that life won’t let you get complacent. Time to think like my life depended on it - watch me up my game!

I’m just glad for the Mercian Gathering coming up - a chance to unwind and centre myself, do my affirmations, dance, pray, sleep, talk with my friends, all in the protection of the circle.

I’d wish this feeling on all I know - pulse racing, heart thumping, adrenaline, brighter vision, the whole nine yards. Blessings!

Feelin’ the lurve!

My dear Shepton Witch has most kindly nominated TGW for a blog award… thank you, my angel!

In the spirit of the agreement I need to post the rules, and then make my own nominations! How exciting! The rules are:

1. The winner can put the logo on their blog
2. Link the person you received the award from
3. Nominate at least 7 other blogs
4. Put links of those blogs on yours
5. Leave a message on the blogs nominated

I know that in this world we live in, many of the people I’d like to have nominated have been tagged already. I’d like to have nominated Foxchild, and Abdur, and Seshat, and Shepton Witch herself!! So with the proviso in place that I’d've nominated you girls and boys if I could, here are my nominations:

Sabrina, at Pagan Dawn. Depsite feeling herself to be a beginner on the Path, Sabrina is consistently profound and thoughtful about pagan issues, and loves to read, and to discuss her reading!

Brian at House of Inanna. A man who is not afraid to grasp the nettle of difficult topics, Brian makes a convincing argument and is strong in the field of Goddess worship.

Beaweaver at Weaving the Web. An old friend and sparring partner, Beweaver is astonishingly frank about her life, but never mundane; a fascinating journey described with spirit, verve and no self-pity whatsoever. A recommend on so many different levels.

Tess at Anchors and Masts. Tess is one of the most evenhanded people I’ve ever spoken with; her point of view is always considered, principled and intelligent. For enlightenment and good fellowship, click here!

Andy at Somerset Pagan. Andy’s brave and sensitive stance on all sorts of matters make his blog compulsive reading. It isn’t easy some times to take in everything - Andy is a very detailed writer, his words are descriptive and full of the quintessence of him. It’s wonderful to be watching his journey.

Murcielago at Goddess Waxing. Murcielago is a fascinating character, and a scholar, so has many interesting academic sidebars on Goddesses generally, and his pantheon in particular.

Owlish at Nocturnal Tendencies. Owlish speaks so clearly; it’s a pleasure to be allowed to hear about her days and doings. She has a straight eye and a straight pen - nothing escapes her notice.

I hope these folks will spread the happiness further - how lovely to be able to pass on some recognition!

Clear Water

In ‘Joy of the Waxing Moon’, Seshat talks about our ritual last evening; as you see, she found it amazingly helpful. The ritual was so powerful and transformative that I don’t think I can be coherent about what it means to me.

When one explores the concept of perfect love and perfect trust it has the capacity to frighten; it means a great deal, and can’t be removed once given. Perfect trust in another confers power; without the perfect love, you have the possibility for abuse and for advantage to be taken. However, the ability to step out onto the cloud and see that it will bear you sets one apart. Things may be accomplished in this state that would be unthinkable in mundane life.

Seshat and I were able to see far across our own experience last evening; we were given an overview, as if we were standing on a high tower looking down on the map of our lives at present. We were able to see what was true, say what was true; we were able to listen. Many things were made clear.

We were able to know what to ask for - this is an underrated ability, and rarely comes right. Seshat is far better than I at framing a well-turned request - mine are fancies and feelings more than actual facts, strangely for one so decisive in regular life. We asked for the things we needed, and we feel we were listened to and answered. The ways are open.

Thanks be to the Goddess and the God.

Rising Full

Seshat and I are working tonight, with the rising full moon. This is rolled up with Lammas, and the theme is perfect love and perfect trust.

There’s an enormous amount of energy about at the moment, and I think we both feel it. There’s much afoot. The dizzying implications of some of the possibilities are astounding us both.

I don’t think we’re the only ones that feel this huge positivity; it’s like being plugged into the mains. Friends have said how much they’re achieving and progressing, and how positive things are looking for them too.

These breakers come rolling by quite regularly but you need to be suited up and ready to catch some surf. We’re going to hit this one right on the money.

I’m so energised and excited by the prospect that I’m jumping about hardly able to concentrate. Funny, I don’t remember ever feeling this enthused about going to Church. Interesting, no?

Typing like a maniac

I’d been talking about good motivation; I seem to have found some energy and application that I’d lost since university days. It hasn’t diminished or got any less vigorous; it’s just been sitting there, in suspended animation, waiting for me to remember it.

An avenue of study has opened up over the last few weeks and I’ve been dipping my toes in the water, no more. It’s warm. And I want to throw myself in and go wallowing around in all the wonderful images, ideas, theories and strategems and then swim off down the little rills that lead from this pool to other pools and to yet other pools… it feels like C S Lewis’s Wood Between the Worlds from The Magician’s Nephew. Actually, that’s a really good and coincidental analogy, come to think of it…

In any case, here I am in this pool of knowledge and I hadn’t looked for it - had never expected it to come my way. I’d been wishing for it without really knowing what I wanted, and now I have it. I am spending my evenings reading, making notes, typing responses, putting together ideas, testing them, reading reading reading. Thinking critically and in an organised fashion, for perhaps the first time in ten years. Frightening, exhilarating, astonishingly beneficient.

Why frightening? Because when my mind takes over it rules me completely, and nothing else gets a look-in. But it’s also frightening to note the difference between my mind now and the excuse for thinking I’ve made do with in the recent past. No comparison. I love to think, and to stretch my mind. I feel like a cat waking up from a long nap.

The Tumblers Turn and the Door Opens…

Seshat’s Voice has been speaking about the great need in us all for a mythology. I’ve been thinking quietly about myth-making, mythology and neo-paganism for a while, in a particularly formless way; Some good ideas but no focus. Nothing I could pin down.

Seshat’s post struck home with me even more than it usually does, because she goes on to discuss the results of committing yourself to a course of action with no messing about. You want a mythology? Go find one that appeals to you and work with it. Learn it, immerse yourself in it. Find the universal truths inside it. Where is it different, where the same to what you’ve known before?  Above all, why are you attracted to it?

This can be the most revealing work of all, and some of the most important for any neo-pagan to undertake. Self-discovery cannot possibly come any more directly from the soul than this. So, it’s spriritual and personal growth. Not bad results for making a commitment.

Then she discusses the returns for committing yourself, consciously and subconsciously, to action. Your needs and wants suddenly begin to be fulfilled. Seshat’s were for companions, community and a teacher. I’m no different - I believe these things to be universals, more or less, in the path we follow.

I’ve discussed recently and in the comments thread of this post the difference between teaching and proselytising, so it ought to be clear that I see a distinction between the two states; I feel the need for some guidance. Teachers may provide many things; the raw materials of wisdom are the most important in my view. Not information, pre-digested; not a packaged world view or a mythology or even an opinion, simply ideas, vistas, fresh air.

So, suddenly my vague and uninformed ideas about myth have received some of that fresh air; an incisive and insightful commentary and expertise that I couldn’t find in my reading. Answered.

Off Away!

Heading West again this weekend to visit with TSW and Shepherdess… superb. This will a pretty interesting visit, as it’s social but also heavily business-focused. Not to titillate your tastebuds too much!

We could certainly do with some time off. I spent all my working week reeling from pillar to post, this week; neither comfortable nor stress-free. And the neighbours at our new little house seem to do everything except sleep at night-time. I counted three separate entries and exits (slammed doors, revving cars, shouting into mobiles) between 2.30am and 4.30am. I’m a really light sleeper - most of the time I’m not technically ‘asleep’ as I still have the ears-on-elastic thing from having a baby. Added to which, new houses are built of matchwood and pencil shavings, so if you cough it sounds like a bomb dropping.

I will be online, try and keep me away.

So we leave the tatty suburban street of the hometown and head out into the golden misty West… cue music! And someone promised us Beef Wellington and Tiramisu, too. Talk about Avalon…

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Well, there’s no real words to describe the excellence and sumptuous wonderfulness of this weekend. We arrived stressed, after hitting the back of the 50-mile tailback from Cribbs Causeway to Cornwall. After a protracted tussle with the map and a cross-country meander, we crossed the line into Somerset. There’s an indescribable peace and contentment that I feel when I enter this county - I’ve never lived here, and have no family connection. It’s green, bucolic, rich and fertile, with deep hollows between the hills that hide the most beautiful villages in England. The pink and gold Hamstone that they use to build with here contrasts with the wisteria, parthenocissus, clematis and greenness of the gardens and glows in the shallow evening light that pours across the fields. It’s a promised land, a dream. I love it to distraction.

We dropped straight into easy banter and gathering around the kitchen table we got on with doing the dinner, lubricating the proceedings with blackcurrant vodka, and cooking up a storm. Afternoon shaded into evening as we ate the fruits of our labours and then kicked back with vats of wine for a gossip and a giggle, and then a dance!

TSW’s brow lightened after a few jars; her back has been giving her untold grief and agony. It was lovely to see the wine doing its work and enabling her to put me royally through my paces as a belly dancer - she looked great, but I looked like a cat on hot bricks although I really got the feel for the music - I’d love to have another shot at this.

We settled to bed fairly late and I was hammered, but pleasantly - no hangover whatsoever in the morning and I slept like a log, as did Mr GW. Awakened slowly by the contented sotto voce cluckings and meanderings of the local chickens. Freshly made and delightful coffee, local fresh-squeezed bramley apple juice, and a heritage breakfast of award winning sausages and bacon, local bread and free-range scrambled eggs followed. This is food the way it’s supposed to be produced. From the area, personally chosen, carefully produced, lovingly cooked and greedily devoured!

TSW took us on a tour of the local villages - cue much drooling from me - and a visit to a cider mill. Wonderful stoneware flagons of local cider and some beeswax candles that smell of honey, somnolent sluggishness and the peace of bees. 

We left, comforted and cheered on our way, like we were stepping out of a magic circle but somehow retaining the virtue of it on our drive north. Such a lot has been decided this weekend, such a lot of issues resolved. I have to thank my friends; they are responsible for all the good things that have been achieved - and they cook a mean Welly to boot!

Swimming the Current

Wonderful work afoot, and there’s only more of it on the horizon. There’s so much going on. So much I hadn’t ever anticipated, even 6 months ago it would have looked unlikely. I ‘ve been carefully extricating myself from other things and streamlining everything I do to give myself the most operational time possible.

Fellow bloggers have been talking in recent weeks about this; the balance between spiritual and mundane life. Mundane? Not in my case. It’s life, but what an exciting life. I think partly it’s because I’m learning to appreciate even the smallest thing as important. The sum total is extraordinary enjoyment; of my surroundings, the people in my life, and my own company.

Clearly, I can make this whole scenario into a problem if I choose to do so, but I don’t. For once, I’m going with the current instead of fighting it.

Technological Gnorls

What do you do if your umbilicus to the Net gets cut?

We have had to move out of our lovely burrow recently to enable a large insurance repair to take place; the details are both sordid and disgusting but suffice to say there’s ‘dirty water’ where it should not be. Three months in the future we should be able to move home; until then, the family is ‘on vacation’ at a lovely little rented place at the top of the town!

The problem is there’s no phone line, because we can’t have one fitted for less than a year (thanks to the jobsworths at BT) and now I’m a song without a voice. Blogging at lunchbreak and when I hit the office early won’t do the job!! I think I have a solution to the problem, involving the boss’s third best laptop and a PCMIA pay as you go card.

It raises an interesting question about communication; I didn’t realise until I faced the prospect of disconnection how much of my life is lived in the Net. Where would I be without my network of bloggers and my forums to anchor me down? Where would I meet my compatriots in order to plan our strategems and look forward to future enjoyments? How would I even keep up with my correspondence? Paper, telephone, all hopelessly outmoded and worse than useless for this sort of work.

One of the things I love so much about conducting my pagan life on the net is that there’s no barrier to the confluence of ideas. It’s like a roomful of likeminded people. Actually, it’s better than that, because everyone’s got room to sit down, there’s enough air, drinks when you need them and there’s an automatic record of what was said.

So I will be here; by hook, crook or broom, I will not stray far. There’s too much exciting stuff going on for me to want to be away from it for a single day.