2015, The Gods, Thoughts

A Dedication to and Rumination on Lady Demeter (Harvest) and Lady Ceres

Hail, Demeter!

Lady of the harvest, the law, and the infinite loop of growth and destruction, of life and death.

The busy, maternal, productive day yields its fertility in warm breezes,

the feel of solid earth beneath my toes.

As you have reminded me, you do not raise weak saplings, but strong oaks,

hearty wheat, and strong plant stock.

You taught me to trust in what is and to make it a habit to answer the

question being asked, to strengthen what lies within and without.

So often the mundane requires a slight of hand,

be it in office politics or neighborly greeting.

The question being asked, far too often, may not be the actual

question that lies beneath.

You remind me to look past the shade and gather true abundance

that is earned, understood, and deserved.

Each year we celebrate, learn and delve into the mysteries

shared with those of ages past.

I thank you, my lady, and embrace the quiet necessity of regular harvest,

the law, and the seasonal dance of death and life –

Each fall and spring

from your lips words of wisdom

enlighten and bring recall to those who seek understanding

of the mother, the one who helps the crops grow in beauty,

the one who stands tall and straight.

Lady Ceres,

it is you who rules physical nourishment, the rites of marriage and

fertility of the womb,

and you who protect the commoners, the laborers, those who toil

with honesty and just measures.

My maternal day reminds me that you guide and help mothers,

all mothers who are devote to their young.

Those who trespass or violate the earth suffer your wrath;

as protector you are fair, yet accept the blood sacrifice when necessary.

There is much I have to learn about you and I re-dedicate myself to that journey.

When you speak, Ladies Demeter and Ceres, it may be brief, but it is always fruitful. Your words fill my soul with purpose,  like the purple flowers that rest outside my door.  I thank you both for your support, for your blessings, and for your revelations. Any act of mothering, of law, and of standing up to a variety of tests comes in part through your guidance and wisdom.  Thank you.

Doxa Theion!

Agape

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2015, The Gods, Thoughts

Dedication to and a Rumination on Lord Kronos (Inevitability) andLord Saturn (Harvest)

Life has been about responsibility and the inevitable of late. This is the end of a two year cycle (perhaps three, now that I think about it) of transition,evolution and serious growth. For that, I am grateful and thank you for the lessons and the often (very) dry sense of humor. One of the recent gifts has been that of acceptance of what is with humility, gratitude, and thoughtful reverence. I do not like to think of aging, or its consequences; both are a reality in my life on a daily basis, from those who are seventeen going on forty, to those who are seventy and mischievous as a ten year old in spirit.

As the Lord of Time, Fate, and Inevitability (that which cannot be changed), you, Lord Kronos have taught me that nothing new can come in if the gateway is jammed with what is old and past. Leaves block a drain until the water or stronger force clears, and thus renews it. The past two years have been spent gathering and discarding what is not needed for new growth. There is only so much space for worry about what is not present, or what is needed ten years from now. The cycle of eternal youth and rejuvenation is marked by the harvest festival that we celebrate in August and the ability to let lay fallow the soil that resides within the individual.

When I first became an initiate, I feared Lord Saturn and rarely would call upon Lord Kronos, in any form. What I have learned since that time is that fear is not only inevitable,but it must be embraced and then put aside, in the same manner that a child acknowledges and then leaves behind his or her earliest toys. You know that it is there, and you move forward in spite of it. If fear is the rock that blocks the stream, then these past two years have shown me that it is either move the rock or remain stuck. I have chosen again and again to move the rock. When the rocks have been too heavy, I have called upon the Gods, which includes asking those around me for prayer and intercession as well.

As the Lord of the Harvest and the inevitable on the physical plane, you, Lord Saturn have reminded me to count my blessings, regardless of the form or number. With each Saturnalia, I think of what is important for the following year. This past Saturnalia, the highlight was a ritual where we put our goals and aspirations for the light half of the year into a jar that remains on one’s altar, sealed until Verlitha Solistum (Rite of Pyrhea). I must confess that I am curious to see when I open my jar in just over five weeks whether I have remained true to my own desires and quest for knowledge or if I have gaps to fill.

Finally, I thank you Lord Kronos and Lord Saturn for speaking to me on the happy nature of life, as well as the serious. When I have looked for guidance, you speak to me in my dreams and remind me that time (seconds and minutes versus hours, days and years) is all relative. I thank you for those I love, who have taught me about the meaning of time in small bits. I don’t take it for granted anymore. Thank you so much.

Doxa Theion!

Agape

 

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2014, 2015, Conversation on Race

Ferguson, MO

A friend calls

White, blond, Iowa bred

‘Can I ask you something political?’

She tells how her

sister-in-law-to-be posts

a picture on Facebook.

“She does not understand how one shooting

causes riots. She calls me “liberal”

What do I say? How do I get her to understand?”

The pause is ache.

“I know from college that to shop

while black, to drive while black,

to live while black is hard.

What do I say? I am so angry with her.”

The silence covers the years of no

conversations on race.

A nation inflamed –

Hands up, don’t shoot

erupts like a pimple that ached for weeks

on the tender skin that is the American soul.

We don’t talk about it.

We cover it over with accomplishments.

We are post-racial

(Thanks to a black President

who is really bi-racial for those who care and black for those who don’t.)

Yet, upstate New York conservatives don’t

get why one shooting

brings out what brown skinned folks have known

for years:

Life while black

from birth to death.

We are one of two nations with race on the birth certificate.

Marked from the womb to the tomb

You are black whether rich or poor.

The darker the skin, the more easily marked

Yet light skin does not help

When the cop stops you for driving a

car that is “too good” for you.

“How I got over” – Clara Ward

knew this.

Three women in a Cadillac in Georgia

White men who didn’t like it

Fake possession to avoid

the lynching, killing, robbing

of what was theirs.

Oprah knew this

from Swiss sellers

who thought she could not afford

the bag, maybe $10,000

A worldwide phenom billionaire

with smooth mocha skin

supporting her sister Tina’s wedding

shut out.

Apologies don’t cover

the race realty for living while black.

No one mentions how media

makes living black hard,

even among other brown skins that are black

but not born in America.

I tell my friend this.

She knows she has privilege,

that no one will follow her out of fear,

but only out of lust or desire.

She has a kind heart and empathy.

It is a hard conversation to have at 9:30 in the morning

when you been up every 90 minutes since 3am

and sleep has granted you reprieve for another 85 minutes

before the phone rings.

How to convey a lifetime of blackness

in twenty minutes before she has to go.

How to say – give your sister-in-law-to-be Peggy Macintosh,

tell her to read W.E.B. Dubois,

the story of Matthew Perry,

Benjamin Baneker, Madame CJ Walker,

knowing that until she has lived as black

she can never know the true depths of

why Ferguson was not a wake up call

but a reminder of what we fear most:

walking down the street unarmed

and being killed outright for who we are

not what we have done.

We know that if Michael Brown were white

“unrest” would be short

Darren Wilson would have been named in the first 12 hours

arrested

charged

exposed as killer

Not revered as a hero in hiding

Facebook posts asking for protection of his family

as though he is a victim.

We know that if Darren Wilson was black

someone would have taken care of him

and his family

and the media would say nothing

the law would do little

and upstate New York sister-in-law-to-be would say

justice has been served.

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