In the shower this morning, I got to thinking about the Morrígan and Hela as deities of death, their stark differences drawing my attention to the multidimensional nature of death, which, in turn, sent me down an introspective rabbit hole. I wondered at my recent pull towards the Morrígan’s fiery passion and away from Hela’s icy calm. The Morrígan’s fire burns in the liminal space between life and death – where wounds and grief are still raw, where carrion are cleaning bloody carcasses and faint cries emerge from those whom death has claimed, but not yet taken. Not exactly my cup of tea.
I have typically been attracted to the long-since dead. Hela’s realm. My favorite class during my semester as an anthropology major was the lab portion of biological anthropology, where I had the privilege of handling and studying real human skulls. I considered, at the time, how unpleasant it would be to be a biological anthropologist tasked with forensic work on a recent death and lamented how my interests rarely aligned with the job market.
I love the aesthetic of skulls and bones (the more fossilized, the better) and mummified remains. I enjoy admiring my collected specimens and pondering their stories while holding a cup of tea, comfortably snug in my favorite hoodie, where I feel safe and far removed from reality.
But something has awoken deep within me. No matter how hard I try, I can’t force myself back into my comfortable slumber. The knocking at my door is too loud to ignore.
I’ve heard warnings about dedicating to the Morrígan. She’s not a coddling or “nice” goddess, they say. She will throw you unceremoniously into chaotic waters to sink or swim, they say. At first, I took several steps back and said, “Great Queen, I think you have the wrong woman.” But then, I reconsidered. I’ve already fallen into chaotic waters. I swam to shore only to be swallowed up by a tidal wave. I nearly drown and was still clearing my lungs before the next one hit. And yet again, I lived.
I believe it is no coincidence that it was the Morrígan who came to me as my Druid guide in a vision during my OBOD initiation ritual. I performed that ritual in the midst of her domain, that liminal space where death has yet to give way to new life.
I am not sure, yet, what dedication to a deity means to me. I’m still sorting out, for that matter, what deity even means to me, sitting as I am somewhere between naturalism and polytheism. But I am finally sure that I am worthy.
Once again, I return to my blog after a superfluously long hiatus. I seem to have more to say when I can look back on longer stretches of time and make sense of a big picture rather than of smaller steps along the way. My private journals see my day-to-day analysis, but it takes quite a while before something cohesive and worthy of the public eye manifests from these. That all being said, I will now proceed with a life-update ramble not at all as polished or insightful as this misleading intro would imply 😅
Where to begin… How about with the biggest news of all? After 16 years, I have finally returned home to Montana. Not only am I on Montana soil, but I have moved into my dream home on 20 acres in the Mountains. It feels so surreal. After so long, my entire sense of self and purpose has interwoven itself with the longing for home. Now that I’m here, there’s a looming feeling of “ok, now what?” I feel like I just completed the last level of my favorite video game or the last chapter of a book. Of course I’m thrilled to have made it all the way. But you know the feeling, don’t you? Entering that liminal space between one goal and the next? Except, this wasn’t just any goal. This was *the* goal. The feeling I’m talking about is amplified to existentially concerning levels.
The problem is, I’ve not much in the way of ambition overall. I live my life in a daydream, doing little in the way of real work towards real goals. I’m flighty and fickle. As soon as I see how much work is needed to pursue anything in the real world, I retreat. My many short-lived career goals, my long dead YouTube channel and Etsy shop. Life is hard and I am angry about it. I just wanna take a nap and sing to the trees and not try very hard. Yes, I’m a lazy, entitled, feral fairy behind all the smoke and mirrors. The only thing that’s been keeping me going so long was the prospect of Montana on the horizon. Nothing else could keep my attention for so long. Nothing else could motivate me to keep on keeping on. So I ask myself, now what? Is this the end? Do I lay down amidst the frost-covered trees, gazing up at the stars in the light-pollution-free sky and die in peace?
Perhaps not. A Goddess has different plans for me. Yes, you heard that correctly. I, the recent convert to Spiritual Naturalism, am flirting with the Woo. I am not fully on one side or the other. I visit both from time to time and call my spiritual home the liminal space between. It makes little difference to me if this Goddess is a being of supernatural lore or a projection of my own psyche. In the midst of ritual, I lean towards belief in the former, and outside ritual, towards the latter. I’ve come to accept that strict labels and trying to pin myself down are futile endeavors. I roll and tumble with the universe freely.
The important thing is, I hear a calling. From without? Well then great, the universe has a purpose for me. From within? Well, great again, because that means my soul’s fire is not yet ready to flicker out. My only concern has been with determining whether or not the call is legit. Could it just be my ego, once again, leading me astray with wishful thinking? I’ve been struggling with the very conundrum for a while now (see this post). I try to reject callings that seem too mighty and glorious for my small, insignificant self. How to untangle actual ego traps from poor self-esteem? 🤔 That is the question.
So who is this mighty goddess whose reputation has me questioning my worth? She is no other than The Great Queen herself, The Morrigan 😳. I’ve been feeling this call for far longer than ought to have gone unheeded. Knowing her reputation as a demanding goddess, I feel lucky she has been so patient with me at all. And confused as to why she would want to claim such a weak soul as myself. I finally had to accept that there would be no way of knowing until I answer the call. And answer I did.
I called upon and made offering to The Phantom Queen during my Samhain ritual on the 6th. I performed my ritual in the spacious, ostensibly haunted, loft of my new house. The ritual was among the most powerful I’ve had to date. I haven’t experienced one quite like it since my OBOD initiation ritual, wherein the Druid teacher who appeared to me looked very much like modern depictions I’ve seen of The Morrigan (though I didn’t make that association at the time). I felt the comforting presence of an ancestral hand in mine as I meditated, I felt the combined will of my ancestors directing my arm as I drummed for them. I met the most recent member of my animal-guide tribe. And I received promising omens from The Morrigan.
Pictures from my Samhain Ritual
I began by asking her if the call was legit, does she wish to claim me? I drew the Ivy/Gort ogham few in response. I sensed that to mean yes, she very much wishes to bind me to her, but with the warning not to jump into such a contract lightly. So then I asked if she would accept a trial dedication, in which I devote myself to her until the next Sabbat. I drew the Empress card and took that to mean that such a dedication would be fruitful whether or not it leads to a more permanent relationship.
I also consulted my ancestors. In meditation, they conveyed the message that I am to go follow my path. I asked “what path is mine?” They replied that I would just know. I was frustrated at the vague answers, so I asked them to please send me a clarifying message via the tarot. I felt compelled to pull two cards as I shuffled: The Queen of Wands and The 6 of Wands. Woah. (Refer again to this post). Well ok then. I guess it really is time to step into my Queen garb and take my place among the worthy.
I’m both excited and terrified. Will I live up to Her expectations? Can I handle this? Will I run from The Work? Will I become the best version of myself? We shall see!
For my birthday in November, I received The Soul’s Journey lesson cards, my first ever oracle deck. For Yule, I received my first set of Ogham fews. Being new to both oracle cards and the Ogham, I wasn’t sure, right off the bat, how I wanted to incorporate them into my practice. I began by drawing one of each on New Year’s day, thinking I might do so for each of my personal half-month seasons in addition to my usual daily tarot card draws and quarterly tarot spreads. I’ve had the oracle card and ogham few for this season prominently displayed atop the hutch of my desk since the 1st, not sure what to make of either until today.
My New-Year’s Tarot, Oracle, and Ogham Draws
Before today, I’d approach my desk and eye that Regret card with somewhat of a “yeah, whatever-ish” attitude. If you’ve read the past several of my blog posts, you’d know that regret has been looming over me like a menacing cloud for over a year now. Yes, I understand that I am “supposed” to forgive myself. I understand that regret is not a good thing to carry around with me. But understanding does nothing in the way of relieving me of the burden. Today, I finally sat down to contemplate Ur (Heather), my ogham few for this season, and found in it just the kind of assistance I need to tackle my oracle-card challenge.
And so have I figured out how I want to work with my newest spiritual tools this year. Each ogham few will be the tool by which I tackle the oracle card I draw along side it. Each challenge presented by the Soul’s-Journey deck may be approached from multiple angles and dealt with in a myriad of ways. Not knowing where to start, having too many options, I simply don’t start at all. With the power of an Ogham tree or plant behind me, I feel I can begin.
Heather, which can bloom in winter and grows on grounds hostile to most plants, brings to me strength. Having a history as a plant from which brooms were made, it cleanses and purifies. And in fact, its genus name, Calluna comes from the Greek, “kalluno,” meaning, “to cleanse.” These are not all the symbolic powers of Heather, but they are the most relevant to my “Regret” card.
Inspired by Heather, I wrote my own affirmations to supplement the one given on the oracle card:
I cleanse myself of regret. I step into the present fully purified and ready for the future.
I am strong because of my past and the lessons learned. Every would-be regret is a metal ring linked into my chainmail. I wouldn’t be who I am today without the past.
I’ve only just begun considering how the pairing of ogham with the Souls-Journey cards can aid me in the long run, but I think it’s going to be a powerful and healing journey.
Collaboration. Delegation of work. Utilization of multiple strengths. Every role is vital. Apprenticeship. These are traditional interpretations of the Three of Pentacles, but they don’t quite hit the mark for me in the Rider Waite (RW) and RW-based versions of of the card.
I don’t see so much a scene of collaboration or delegation of tasks as I do the representation of a project’s progression from an initial spark of inspiration to manifestation. The monk has a vision, the architect plans it out, and the builder brings it to life. The builder/craftsperson appears center stage, which distracts from what might otherwise be a message of literal, realtime, teamwork. Some versions of the card do present more of a collaborative vibe, but not this one. It makes sense, though, that the focus should be on the craftsperson in a card of the pentacles suit. The members of the “team” in this card may be the querent themself at previous stages along the way to manifesting a vision, or they may be others who did their share of the work before hiring the craftsperson. Either way, the dynamics of real-time teamwork are not at play here
As for apprenticeship, I do not see that either. The builder is not working under the guidance of another in her trade. I see a master craftswoman bringing the vision of another to life much as a skilled artist in any trade might do when taking a commission.
Aeclectic Tarot does away with the teamwork and apprenticeship angles, going for one of patronage instead. A patron supports an artist in the creation of his own vision, which again, is not what I see going on in this card. I see a craftsman whose skill was recognized by a monk and an architect looking to hire. Maybe they are taking a chance on him, his future career and reputation dependent on their review of his work.
Hello world, I’m still around. Last year was a wild ride! My heart goes out to all those who suffered the bulk of the Covid19-related stress, but my woes hail mostly from different sources. Covid19 has affected me little outside of the restrictions causing mild annoyance. I had a brief scare when two members of my family (with whom I do not live) contracted the virus, but fortunately, their cases were mild.
As for me, my Dark Night of the Soul carried over from the previous year. I cycled in and out of severe depressive episodes and began seeing a therapist for the first time. PTSD from the events surrounding the death of my parrot, Tilly, is what finally prompted me to consider it. One tentative bipolar II diagnosis and three months later, I quit therapy. I didn’t feel that my therapist was a good match for me. I considered finding another, but I got to thinking that I could end up enduring the stress of breaking up with several bad matches before finding a good fit. I simply didn’t have the spoons for that. Plus, it costs money, even with insurance, and I have bigger priorities to save up for.
I spent the year in retreat from the larger part of my online social life. Ironic, considering that most of the world increased its online presence last year. I posted a few things here and there on Instagram and on my friends-only Facebook timeline, but my involvement in online communities has been minimal.
It hasn’t been all doom and gloom for me, however. One of my two sisters got married and both of them announced their first pregnancy. I traveled to my beloved Montana for my sister’s Autumn-Equinox wedding. It was a small affair. We were safe, don’t worry! Fun masks and bottles of hand sanitizer were among the party favors. My mother had even sent me a super protective silk-lined and copper-infused mask, with filter, in advance for my flight. But boy, was that mask awful! I could hardly breath with it on. The trip, however, was more than worth the discomfort.
How Montana did nourish my soul! I went hiking with my parents. It was so wonderful! I belong to the land there and soon, I shall return for good. We are planning to move in October. Finally, after all these years, I am going home. It’s a weird feeling, though, this joyful anticipation intermingled with my darkness. Each emotion feels like an insult to the other; each feels as if in a symbiotic relationship with the other.
Amidst external flurry and inner turmoil, my studies with OBOD have been a healing and grounding component of my life over the past year. I’ve been fully immersing myself in the content of each gwers (lesson booklet) in a way I never would have in the past. I am about a third of the way through the Bardic-grade, so it will likely be another two years before I complete it if I continue at my current pace. I am in no hurry.
Last year was my depth year as well as a year for turning inward and for healing. This year, my yearly 4-card tarot spread is nudging me back out in to the world. Look at all of those pentacles! And look at The High Priestess over there in the “don’t embrace” spot. There’s definitely a motioning away from passivity and inner-world focus to action and external-world focus.
Below is my spread from last year. The Four of Pentacles vs the Five of Pentacles in its place this year tells me that it’s time to get back out there and face the cruel, harsh world *laughs in no thank you.* But in all seriousness, I am greatly moved by the synchronistic progression from last year’s spread to this year’s. From the great pause in action indicated by The Hanged Man of last year to to fresh motivation of The Page of Pentacles, the message is loud and clear. It’s time for me to emerge from my cocoon.
I am overcome with awe over how meaningful my 2020 omens have been so far this year, first in a personal context and now a global one. My 2020 omens include the four tarot cards I drew in late December of last year and the three runes* I drew during my OBOD initiation ritual in January of this year.
The four card spread:
Big Picture: Hanged Man
Embrace this: Four of Pentacles
Watch out for this: Five of Cups
Where I can shine, where to focus my energy: Queen of Wands
I have been feeling, especially, the power of Nyd at this time. Nyd brings hardship and lack, more than we are used to handling. It comes not to destroy us, but to make us stronger. The lessons reaped from a quest through troubled times are invaluable. It seems especially appropriate that I drew Nyd as coming from the ancestral stream of wisdom, from those who have been where we are.
The messages that can be derived from the remaining omens are similarly poignant at this time:
The four of pentacles as a concept to embrace:
Conserve resources, be frugal.
Though this card is in a positive position, it carries with it, nonetheless, a warning not to go overboard with the hoarding. We can see, already, the repercussions of excessive hoarding 😉
The five of pentacles as something to watch out for:
Process negative emotions as necessary, but don’t lose yourselves to the depths of despair! There remains much to be grateful for, much left to fight for.
The hanged man as the big picture:
A forced pause in action, a call to reframe our perspectives, ideally for the sake of collective enlightenment.
The Eoh rune further amplifies the message of the Hanged Man:
Eoh is the the World Tree from which Woden hung himself for nine days to gain the wisdom of the runes. This is especially meaningful having come from the divine stream of wisdom.
Tir, from the naturalistic stream of wisdom
Tir refers not only to the god, but also the North Star – a guiding light in this difficult time, a call for us to create order out of the chaos.
As with Nyd and Eoh, Tir similarly correlates well with it’s associated wisdom stream (synchronicity ftw!)
Queen of Wands
This card carries with it intense personal significance. I love that it is my “where to shine” card this year. If this Queen speaks to you too, then by all means, embrace her energy! The important thing is that you don’t try to take on the world. Focus on your strengths. Contribute where you can, but don’t wear yourselves out!
I hope this re-framing of my personal omens to the collective is useful to some of you.
Take care of yourselves out there! This too shall pass 🙂
*My runes apply, specifically, to the full duration of time I will spend in the Bardic grade of OBOD, which includes this year, if not longer.
January has ended, and I’m still going strong with my depth-year goals.
I completed the month with perfect daily-meditation and 5x/week-workout streaks. I missed 4 days of piano practice. I schedule my practice piano in the afternoon, but often find myself falling behind schedule by then. Although I have it in mind to prioritize piano and the other two activities over all else, this is easier said that done. Certain chores and last-minute obligations can’t be ignored. I also find myself tired and unmotivated after a busy day, even when I have time left over to sit at the piano. Nevertheless, 27 out of 31 days is remarkably good for me, so I am not disappointed.
My self-imposed Discord hiatus ended on the 31st. I didn’t rush to check on my groups as soon as the hiatus ended. It is nearly 5pm on February 1st as I write this. I didn’t even have the end of the hiatus on my mind before I sat down to write. I probably should check-in soon. I told people I would be back around in February. One of my Discord friends, also a Facebook friend, has been looking forward to my return. However, I don’t have a lot of interest in socializing online anymore. I am still disgusted with myself for having been so distracted with such socializing the morning I lost Tilly. I expect that my check-ins will be infrequent from here on out. However, there is still the risk that returning to old haunts will trigger a regression. I don’t want that to happen, so I am kind of afraid to log into my account … I will, of course, but not without trepidation. I will definitely see to feeding and loving on my five living pets, who are reminding me that it’s their meal time, before I mess with discord, if at all, this evening.
Away from Discord, I’ve really enjoyed making real-life connections this past month. I had a total of three lunch dates with old acquaintances and spontaneously decided to check-out via a human cashier rather than the self-checkout when I had only a few items. I feel different. My perspective is different (Hanged Man? :o), my priorities are different, heck even my palate has changed – I ordered a Cappuccino instead of my usual black coffee… and I *liked* it.
Little did I know while planning for my OBOD initiation ritual that I would be doing it on the same day I bid adieu to my beloved Siamese cat, Winter. Winter’s health had already been poor for some time before it took a sudden turn for the worse just before I was to bring him to the vet for further testing on the 24th. His vet strongly suspected cancer. I didn’t think he would make it through the night before his appointment. I knew my trip to the vet that day wouldn’t be for tests and xrays. As I feared, the vet recommended I let him go. After having lost two other pets since October, I felt numb to the experience. I cried, but not in the same full cathartic-breakdown way that I did when I lost Happy and Tilly. Of all my pets, these three were the most spiritually significant to me, the one’s I would consider “familiars” per modern-pagan reckoning of the term. A few years ago, the mere thought of having to ever live without Winter sent me into despair. It helped that I adopted another familiar while Winter still lived. I felt comforted to know that I would not be entirely alone after his death. But then that one died. And the next. And I was left again with Winter as my only soul/bosom pet, if you will.
His death didn’t break me as I used to fear it would. Maybe it’s because I am now so intimately familiar with the experience of loss. Happy broke the ice. He plunged me into the experience entirely unprepared. Tilly introduced me to the additional element of guilt. I feel different after these experiences, like I’ve been initiated. I have a “been there, done that,” almost apathetic attitude right now.
Despite the numbness, or perhaps because of it, I thought about rescheduling my ritual. What little spark of hope and motivation I had worked up during the planning process was gone. But as Winter slowly crossed over to the Otherworld before me in the vet’s office, it occurred to me that he was dying during the tail end of the last moon phase on the same day that would see the new one of my intended symbolic rebirth as a druid. I also considered how it had been exactly a year and a day since Winer’s declining health was first diagnosed.My troubled mind immediately sought meaning here and found renewed motivation to perform my ritual as originally planned. I am glad that I went through it. The entire ritual was profoundly meaningful to me. Ever onward …
I’ve started the year on a good foot, despite having emerged from 2019 in a state of existential despair. My days, so far, have felt richly fulfilling, having kept depth in mind along the way. Though the start of a new year usually offers a (limited) dose of motivational energy, I believe that the soul-fire I feel burning within is strong enough to keep me going until the end.
Among other depth-related successes this past half-month, there’s one that I’m especially proud of. Rather than join a new pagan meetup group, which I had been considering towards the end of last year, I decided to make a date with one of my friends from a group I recently left. I lament the lack of people in my life, so I focus my energy on seeking out new social groups, convinced my problem is that I don’t get out enough. However, the reality is that I get out plenty and have accumulated several local acquaintances with whom I might build stronger relationships if my attention wasn’t so focused on chasing after the new.
Speaking of chasing after the new, I strongly craved the companionship of a new bird not long after I lost Happy. After having lost Tilly as well, I don’t feel the same. I feel the gluttonous part of me pining after the birds in pet shop windows, but the desire now isn’t of the same quality as it was before. Before, it was a need, now it feels more generically impulsive – like how it feels to eat a cake when bored or sad, but not really hungry. I want another bird, someday, definitely, just not right now. In fact, right now, I somewhat ashamedly appreciate my bird-less situation. It feels like a dishonor to Tilly’s memory to admit it, but at the same time, I feel like it was her death that shook my awareness awake to what really matters. Her death put my motivation to pursue my goals into overdrive and redirected my focus towards authentic priorities. I had been toying with the idea of a depth year before she died, but I probably wouldn’t have followed through if she was still with me. Caring for a parrot is a huge responsibility. It’s not like caring for a dog or cat. It requires a significant amount of time and attention. The payoff is more than worth this time and attention, for sure, but it’s not easy to pull off. I need this year to practice my ability to focus, to reassess my priorities, to know how it feels to truly commit to something – piano, working out, meditating, making friends… I’ve already got a lot on my plate right now. Until I can manage what I already have, I won’t be adopting a new feathered friend.
I feel like I am on the precipice of a significant transformation, and it just so auspiciously happens to align with both personal and universal “new-beginning” symbolism. While planning my initiation ritual for OBOD, I decided that I’d like to perform it sometime around Imbolc. For some reason, Imbolc lately has felt more spiritually significant to me than the other Sabbats (peculiar since, a few years ago, it was among my least favorite times of year).However, I didn’t want to do it directly on Imbolc, preferring to keep each ritual separate. So I decided I’d do it on the new moon of the lunar month that contains Imbolc. This new moon lands on January 24th this year. According to my personal lunar-month names, this moon is the Rejuvenation Moon. Depending on where the full moon lands in a month, it could also end up named the Groundhog Moon. I noted that “Rejuvenation” has more of a “new beginning” vibe than does “Groundhog” and got to thinking further about the new-beginning energy surrounding my chosen initiation day. Not only will it be a new moon, but it will be the first new moon of a new year, of a new decade. Additionally, this Moon marks the start of the Chinese New Year, which incidentally, also marks the start of their 12-year cycle. I felt overcome with awe at these meaningful synchronicities. I know in my soul that I am about to embark on one of the most meaningful spiritual journeys of my life.
My spiritual quest this year is to pursue depth over breadth, which I expect will be monumentally transformative. I was recently discussing cognitive typology with my husband; particularly, the differences between extroverted perception (Pe) and introverted perception (Pi). He leads with Pi, whereas I lead with Pe. Pe is exploratory. At its best, it can be remarkably innovative. At its worst, it can result in lack of commitment and an unhealthy addiction to novelty. Indeed, these unhealthy qualities have been the bane of my existence. I chase after novelty as if my life depends on it. I struggle immensely with commitment. After the sparkle of the new is gone, so am I. I wrote in my journal recently that I feel like I’m living the same day over and over and how I wish for something new. I re-visited that entry and reframed my perspective (recall that the Hanged Man is my big-picture tarot card for the year). I asked myself: why should everything feel the same when I am constantly embracing novelty? And I considered that new for me isn’t novelty and distraction. I have had my fill of that and have found it less fulfilling than I expected it to be. New for me this year shall be finding the new in the old; digging deep to find the treasures buried in what I already have. commitment to a passion…
Shelley in the Rain 