Saturday Musings

It's Saturday, N is working, and I am home alone with Little Bee. The sun is shining gloriously outside after a morning of angry rainstorms. Our tomato plants appear to be a bit battered by the onslaught. They need watering, but their delicate arms can't withstand too much battering the way they are staked. I think I will need to purchase some tomato cages and fence the little fellows in so that they will have a chance to produce come the strong sunshine of the summer. I find myself lonely today, and not just a tad homesick once again. The above picture is such a stereotype of northern Witchcraft, but, all humor aside, I did like Salem when I visited there. Although so much old anger lies in the soil of the old graveyards, the town has a very old New England feel to it. Granted, most people visiting there know very little about true Witchcraft, but I like that Laurie Cabot has shone a bit of light on that subject. It was her shop I first traveled to when I wanted to learn more, one summer day many years ago. I remember the trip like it was yesterday, buzzing along the highway on the back of my then boyfriend's motorcycle, clutching the too big helmet to my head and anticipating what it would be like to meet a REAL WITCH. I was so naive back then. When we entered Laurie's old shop (Crow Haven Corner) I was assailed by the heady fragrance of incense. It was as if magic hung in the air at that place; there were shelves of books discussing various subjects related to all things Witchy and magical, jewelry, ritual tools, interesting objects D'Art. Laurie was not there, only a quiet, mohawked girl behind the counter, wearing a chopped up t shirt with a pentacle screen printed on the front. I didn't purchase anything that day, but the seed was planted. Later, I bought a few of Laurie's books, which lead me to other books, and on and on I went on this spiritual quest. I've wandered the pathways of other religions since then, but I'm always called back to this one. An online friend told me that some of us hear a calling to the Pagan path, and that it's special when this occurs, and I think she's right. She also advised me recently that when we become seekers along the magical pathway, a God or Goddess will often choose to teach us. I smiled when I read this, since I am very attracted to Brighid and have been inspired to do a painting in her honor (of course, this means I need to finish the other painting on which I'm working...). I'm a bit lonely along this road. I found a local Pagan community while I was browsing online, but haven't attended any of their meetups yet. I believe they meet once a month. I am experiencing trepidation; is this fear of the unknown, fear of making any real sort of committment (which would need to be examined), fear of what N might think? Perhaps what I feel is a combination of all of these things. I have always been mainly solitary in my studies and ritual work. Venturing into a public arena is a bit scary for me; it means sharing very personal idea and beliefs, and I'm not used to doing that. In the everyday world, this type of belief system is so foreign as to be frightening to many people, and people tend to act with hostility when confronted with issues and/or beliefs that frighten them. Also in the shadows of my mind lurks the fear of betraying any sort of religious beliefs my family might have. I do feel connected to being Jewish and to having Catholic roots as well (although I'm more comfortable with my Jewish roots than my Catholic ones- I relate my Irish roots to a Pagan spiritual belief system). I try to incorporate different aspects of Judaism and Paganism into my life, but sometimes it's difficult to do this, since Judaism is completely incompatable with Paganism! The concept of One God eclipsed Pagan ideas when it came into being; those following a "One God" religion simply do not believe that there are other Gods/Goddess in existence and they definitely do not try to communicate with them or understand them on a deeply personal level. I feel that meeting other people who practice the Old Ways might help me to feel more comfortable with my own beliefs and experiences. Perhaps, in this Leap Year, it's time to take that leap of faith and sail into some uncharted territories, to climb mountains that I have not as yet mapped routes for. I know that once a route along a mountain is created, it's easier to climb it the next time, for the safety bolts have been anchored, and a bit of previous fear has been conquered. We've been introduced to companions who have traveled such routes before, thus giving us confidence that we too can pull ourselves up to greater spiritual heights, no matter how many little rocks and pebbles might occasionally shower down around us. We cling to the mountain, becoming, in a sense, one with her, letting her quiet strength penetrate our souls. I suppose I should be grateful for having a mind that constantly seeks and constantly questions and a soul which thirsts for a true connection with the Great Song, the Oran Mor, and my Guardian Spirits. I am grateful.