Ritual at the Hunter’s Moon

“Wild Hunt” by Velamir on Deviantart 

This past full moon, often called the Hunter’s Moon, marked my eighth year in working with the Wylde Hunt. This year has already made me keenly aware of how quickly time can fly by. An eight-year milestone in something that still feels so new to my path is mind boggling to me, and yet… here I am nonetheless.

I typically mark the Hunter’s Moon each year. It’s become something of a tradition to honor my relationship with my hunter god and his cohort then. Autumn has well and truly fallen upon us now. Samhain isn’t far behind. The winds are fierce and chill. It is their season, after all. That this Hunter’s Moon fell upon the anniversary date of that fateful evening in my parents’ backyard felt especially potent.

The past five months or so have also revolved around beginning a new chapter in my life. I touched on this in my post for Lughnasadh, but much has changed in my life. A couple big moves. A new career choice, new relationship. The freedom of having my own vehicle. My time since last year’s Hunter’s Moon has been spent in a sort of transient path of self discovery- I’m not actually certain that it’s ended yet. This season, I believe, has been a lesson in realizing there needn’t always be a direction or a plan.

At any rate, I wanted to mark the occasion with something special, and also to reaffirm my path which had been left to the wayside for months while I was in Georgia and in the process of moving and settling in again. The ritual I constructed drew on a few different things that had been potent to me in the past. One of them was Damh the Bard’s post about the Ritual of the Wild. Another was a rite originally dedicated to the Washer at the Ford aspect of the Morrigan found in Stephanie Woodfield’s book Celtic Lore and Spellcraft of the Dark Goddess: Invoking the Morrigan. There were also some affirmations made along the way through my Bardic Studies that found their way into this ritual. What it resulted in was a potent ritual of rebirth and reaffirmation of my path.

It was cold, but clear that night, and the moon rose quickly to cast its silver glow on the whole of our yard. I gathered a vessel of water, an offering of whiskey, and some herbs I had blended and stepped out into the night. It was too windy for fire, and so I brought a small flashlight with which to read my notes by.

The night wasn’t as quiet as I’d hoped. Somewhere in the distance, a boat horn could be heard loudly and intermittently blasting from over the bay and the river to the south east (My girlfriend later pointed out: was it a boat horn? or the hunter’s horn? I’m sure I know the truth, but the more imaginative answer makes me feel less frustrated by it in hindsight). It had been ages since I’d cast a circle. Doing so just felt natural though; how many times had I walked that same circular path around our firepit? I couldn’t say, but the energy of that memory bolstered me.

I called for peace at the quarters, and stood, facing the northwest and the forest I couldn’t see in the darkness. I called to the Hunters then. Sometimes, the reassurance of something larger than ourselves is subtle- a gentle rise in the winds and in the whispering of the cottonwoods overhead, a certain rising of goosebumps on the skin. 

I returned to the center, where I’d placed my tools on the cold stones of the firepit. A little billow of ash danced in the wind and off into the darkness. I emptied the herbs I’d prepared into the water, and I called to the Hunters for rebirth. I meditated a moment on the things I wished to leave behind, on the person I wished to become. And then, as the oils and herbs had steeped the water, I washed my hands with it, symbolically scrubbing away the old and worn out things that were holding me back.

Then I knelt and placed my head to the ground, and using some of the dialogue from Damh’s Ritual of the Wild and affirmations I’d used along my bardic studies, I spoke my desires into being. I struggled a little with remembering the words- but then felt a gentle reassurance: “Just speak from your heart.” I spoke aloud affirmations about feeling renewed on my path, about finding my place as a teacher and using my skills to guide others. I affirmed a release of relationships and toxic behaviors that hold me back. I spoke of living more fully and completely in the world- whatever joys or struggles that might entail.

As I stood, the wind gently rose again, bitterly cold from the northwest. And I raised my offering to the Hunters. Another turning has come, and I walk with renewed purpose. I buried in the soft ground around the firepit some wooden staves marked with the things I intended to leave behind and those I wished to manifest, and the necessity of change and transformation to achieve that end. I thanked the Hunters for their guidance, and I opened my circle.

My mind’s eye is always a little more colorful and dramatic as I’m preparing rituals. It’s why I’ve quit truly planning them altogether. The thing I’ve learned about initiations and dedications however, is that the shift in question has already begun long before the ritual take place. The ritual simply calls it into your conscious mind; the changes have been being made, little by little, for some time. And so, it needn’t be a flashy dramatic ritual with intense supernatural experiences. Sometimes, subtlety is even more potent.

Forest Blessings,
Rachel

The Elements as Frame of Reference- Or Why I Don’t Invoke the Quarters

This week’s #2019GrimoireChallenge prompts include a focus on the elements and other energies that we work with on our respective paths. Having finished up some of the work through the elements in both my OBOD coursework and in my re-reading of The Earth Path, I’ve been thinking much about the elements and how I work with them in my own path.

By the elements of course, I mean Earth, Air, Fire, and Water. They are used widely in the sphere of the neo-pagan community and have come to be sort of a staple for most people’s magical / spiritual education. Everything from astrology, to herbs, crystals, tarot suits, and more are typically associated with an element. There are countless charts of correspondences that you can find in almost any Wiccan / pagan book. For that reason, I’m not going to list any of them here.

For me, however, they are much less a staple of my practice and more of a means of understanding. Like the literal elements make up all of the matter in our world, the four (or five, if you include Spirit) elements make up the myriad of energies we experience. A sunset at the beach includes fire, yes, because of the sun, but you also have water present, the sandy earth, the cool breeze blowing from across the waves. A thunderstorm has water, the rain; air obviously as it takes place in the sky and the clouds, and sound is an important factor; and fire because of the heat that lightning brings. All of these elements are present in any one moment if you’re able to open your awareness to them. I prefer to deal with the energy as a whole- the energy and spirit of the beach at sunset, the energy of the storm as it rages through our little marshland neighborhood. It feels more like a complete picture, and a more dynamic one than focusing just on a singular element. They don’t often exist exclusively in the natural world, so why would I treat them as such in my practice?

I use the elements as a frame of reference for things like divination or astrology. Water signs are emotive and intuitive. Pentacles are associated with Earth and the qualities of stability and groundedness. In this way, they’re symbolic. They help to categorize energy and operate as a system of interpreting the cards, or the planetary alignments. I don’t however, use them often in spell work. I go for plants and crystals that fit my intention- and usually that’s an intuitive process of simply picking up items that seem to “feel right” for whatever I’m working on. Lavender doesn’t feel particularly related to the energies of air to me, but I’ll use it for cleansing or healing, or anything that needs a more gentle and soothing touch to it.

Because for me the elements are sort of a system of understanding, I also don’t partake of the very common practice of invoking them while setting up a circle for ritual space. In doing so, it’s usually assumed that you are calling upon those energies to enter the circle and balance it; so that they are all represented and working in harmony throughout your rite. Aren’t they already? If you’re in a natural space, you can see the fire as light from the sun, the earth beneath your feet, the moisture in the dewy grass, the air moving about you. Even indoors you can: fire- light and heat from your home, air blowing from said furnace or a fan, moisture in the air for water- perhaps literal water you brought into your circle, earth as the stone or wood or whatever floorboards beneath you. Heck, even your body has all of the elements. There’s a chant that goes “Earth my body, water my blood, air my breath, and fire my spirit…” So without even invoking those quarters, I see them as all already being present and already working in some relative harmony.

Because my circle is sacred protected space, and because I choose safe places to enact my rituals, I also don’t think I need to invoke the quarters as watchtowers or to guard my circle in anyway. I’m not worried about random people or random spiritual nonsense coming in and mucking up my rite; I’ve drawn a circle and picked a safe space for working.

I also don’t buy into the notion that invoking them helps to tune one in to the directional orientation of one’s location. If I’m setting up to do ritual in a place, I’ve gotten to know it before hand, and it’s likely a place I visit often. I do call for peace to the four directions, so I will have looked at a compass or something before starting to know where north, south, east, and west are too. Calling quarters for that reason seems, for me, a bit redundant and unnecessary.

That isn’t to say it doesn’t work for most people! By all means, if you really like calling the quarters and focusing on individual elements, go right ahead! But I do encourage you to try it once or twice: focusing on the big-picture energy of something in nature instead of a singular element, or creating a ritual where you don’t invoke the quarters. See what happens! One of the most important parts of a magical or spiritual practice is knowing what does/n’t work for you, and having an informed reason as to why.

Forest Blessings,
Rachel

Thinking About: Rites of Passage / A Pagan Life’s Rituals

This post is sort of serving as a jumping-off point for a video I have planned for prompts 17-22 of the YouTube Pagan Challenge, all of which sort of center around rites of passage, major life events, and rituals of living a pagan life:

17. How would you introduce spirituality to children, would you pass this book on to your children?
18. Funeral rite and how would you prefer your remains to be treated?
19. Rites for the birth of a child, adoption, naming and blessing ceremonies.
20. Coming of age rites and customs for the stages of life.
21. Marriage or partnership ceremony.
22. Is there such a thing as a twin flame, soul mate, destined partner?

I had mentioned before that I was sort of raised without a formal religious background. To my knowledge, I wasn’t baptized in any way; there wasn’t any sort of formal naming/blessing ceremony. Significant birthdays for me were age 13, 18, and when I left my teens behind at age 20 (By the time I’d hit 21, I’d already consumed alcohol and had been able to do it legally in the U.K. two years prior. The magic had sort of worn off). But they weren’t, at least in a way that was obvious to me then, spiritual in any way.

I also haven’t been married, or undergone any of the other rites mentioned above myself. The funerals I’ve attended have all been rather Christian in their design as well, so in a Pagan sense I’ve not much experience there either. But I do have ideas, which I’ll discuss further down below.

I think, given the opportunity and provided I end up having children, that I would definitely share my spirituality with them. I would want to call upon my gods (and my partner’s) to bless and protect that child. When they were older, I would share with them the stories of the gods, celebrate the sabbats, explain to them the different parts of spellcraft, ritual, and my altar spaces. If, when they grew older, they found that that faith was not what they believed, they would absolutely be free to practice whatever religion (or lack thereof!) they wished. I think the important thing is approaching religion with children not as something obligatory or something that will bring upon the punishment of you or your gods should they elect not to participate in. It should be something exploratory. It should be something they are welcome to ask questions about, form their own ideas / opinions about. I really would have enjoyed something like that as a kid- not that coming to my own conclusions and learning on my own wasn’t valuable and rewarding in its own right.

As far as coming of age rites go, I think some of the birthdays mentioned above might be important to them. Perhaps, should they decide they want to, I might help them with their own witchy dedications and the like, but I really feel that so much of that is deeply personal to the individual. The important thing, when I get to that point, will be open communication with my child.

I don’t know that I would pass my books of shadows on to my children at all. They’re too personal to me. I think I’d much rather have a compiled grimoire of things that I had found useful or created myself to pass down instead of my full journals themselves. I think I’d want those buried with me (but more on that down below).

Two of Cups- After Tarot

Moving past childhood and adolescence, we come to the questions about marriage and partnership. I’m not sure that I believe in twin flames or soul mates and all that. I believe that my current boyfriend is someone whom I would like to spend the rest of my life with, and we have indeed talked about marriage, children, all that good stuff. Maybe it’s soul-destined, maybe not? I don’t know, really. Maybe some people are soul mates, but I think that society has created this sort of toxic idea about soul mates, and all of this stress on finding “The One”. In reality, all things in life are transient. People change, circumstances change, etc. I think that focusing too much on finding “the one” and that being the end-all-be-all of our intimacy and relations with people can be more detrimental than helpful.

But enough of that negative nancy-ing about soul mates, and on to the more fun stuff, yeah? I would very much love to have a handfasting ceremony. This is something I’ve been discussing with my boyfriend as we’ve making plans to live together, etc. Basically, the “Big White Wedding” really isn’t my style. Give me an intimate gathering of close friends and family, a simple handfasting ceremony where everything is done outdoors and such, and big bonfire and good food to celebrate afterwards. That to me is infinitely more special than a fancy white dress I’ll only wear once, and a big elaborate party. As I’ve said though, this is still nothing more than a Pinterest board fantasy lingering in the periphery of my life right now.  There’s much to do still before that becomes something I need to worry about.

10 of Swords- Robin Wood Tarot

And now, onto the stuff I’m actually, strangely, the most passionate about: death and funeral rites. I’ve been increasingly more interested in the death-positivity and green burial movements: those that put after-death care more into the hands of the family of the deceased. I think that handling the corpse, arranging the funeral, etc. should be less taboo. There was a time when all of this was done by the family, and I’d really love to work towards making that more common-place once again, and making burials less harmful of an impact on the natural environment.

That said, I’ll return to a statement I made earlier about my books of shadows, and the topic of how I would like my remains treated. I think, truthfully, that I would like my books of shadows burned with my corpse and the cremains used in one of those Bios urns to plant a tree. That, I feel, would be a lot better than a concrete tomb with a giant stone over it.

Obviously all of these things are entirely dependent upon what happens in the future. How starting my own family goes in the future, who my partner is (though I’ve a pretty good idea of who that’ll be 😉 ), and all manner of other circumstances play a part in how these different rites of passage will come into being. Regardless of what happens, my faith in the gods, will likely play a large part in how they’re carried out.

What rites of passage have you marked? What ones do you plan to? Leave them in the comments below!

Forest Blessings,
Rachel

YT Pagan Challenge: Sacred Spaces, Holy Sites, and Circle Casting

I had been hoping to film part of my eighth YT Pagan Challenge video outdoors in one of my on-campus sacred spaces, but it seems the weather is just not willing to agree with me. So, so I can give you all a bit of a visual, this post will be jam-packed full of pictures of the places I was talking about in the video.

First thing’s first: my on-campus sacred spaces. I am blessed to be going to a university that is filled with small garden spaces and has a sprawling expanse of wooded ravines hugging along the side of campus. In my five years here, I’ve been able to find a number of places to relax, be one with nature, and perform a few rituals and magical workings in. Three of the major places where I tend to hang out and do my workings are the arboretum, the garden behind the religious center on campus, and a grove back in the ravines behind the art building.

In each of these spaces, I’ve found little places to leave offerings, quiet spots to sit and meditate, and have even done a few rituals there.

The arboretum is full of places to explore, and I admittedly spend a lot more time there than anywhere else. There’s a stump I’ve found a short distance off of the path that I use frequently for spell work, and have left offerings at over the past few years. It happens also to overlook a ravine in a pretty straight shot to the grove I’d found in the woods as well.

In the little garden behind the religious building on campus, there’s a statue of St. Francis that seems to have a presence and an energy all its own. I’ve made a habit of leaving little offerings in the hands of the statue whenever I go there to write, drum, meditate, etc.

And then, of course, there is the grove in the ravines. It’s just off the path, and was shown to me by a good friend who graduated a couple of years ago. It’s often where I go if I’m looking to communicate with the Wylde Hunt while on campus, and has been the site for a couple of rituals. There’s a large three-trunked oak that sits in its center, and there are a few places to sit in little nooks between its roots. I like this place because it is a little further away from the main part of campus, and therefore quieter. You can’t hear the bells from the clock tower and are a lot less likely to see people wandering by. There’s also a fantastic view of the stars on clear nights.

Aside from these natural spaces, I do tend to do much of my ritual / meditation / etc. within the safety (and warmth!!!) of my dormitory bedroom, as well. My room is almost always decorated with pictures that are sacred, beautiful, inspiring, etc. to me and I try to create a warm and welcoming atmosphere for myself to live/study/rest/etc. in and for my friends to visit.

My altar space is situated by the window, which overlooks a little courtyard and the woods beyond.While I’m at school, this is the most sacred space to me, and I work really hard to keep it that way while I’m here.

Of course, when I’m home for winter / spring / summer break, I have places where I go to practice as well. Due to the nature of the space situation in my parents’ home, most of those places are outdoors.

In my own backyard, I am again blessed to have a great expanse of land full of trees and a big ol’ forest beyond. In particular, there’s a small grove hidden among a bunch of pine and cedar trees where I do some more private rituals, and then there’s Treebeard, a cottonwood tree where I leave offerings, prayer ribbons, etc. and spend time enjoying the space on the shady hill just beneath him.

I’m also blessed to have other little places of beauty within my hometown such as the local state park, my local witchy shop, and my aunt’s gorgeous and wild garden. These are places that really make me feel attuned to the energies of the universe and the natural world, and where I like to perform tarot readings, have debates about different witchy/spiritual topics, etc. with my friends.

And of course, there are a number of places in Michigan that have spiritual significance to me. The biggest one is the Boyne/East Jordan/Charlevoix area up in the northern part of our lower peninsula. Over the years, it has been a place full of childhood memory as well as shared memories and explorations with one of my best friends, Mark.

Being a pagan who follows a primarily Celtic path and lives within the United States makes it a little difficult to visit holy sites associated with my practice. There are, no surprise, remarkably few here in the states. There are Native American sacred sites, but because that runs along the slippery slope of what is culturally appropriative and what is respect for the culture and traditions associated with those sites, you’ll note that none of the places I’ve shared above are tied to those places. I was fortunate enough, four years ago, to visit the United Kingdom and places like Stonehenge, Avebury, and Glastonbury. These are memories that I hold really dear to my heart, and feel very privileged to have experienced in my lifetime.

Two of my very favorite memories from my trip to the UK came from my experiences on the weekend we went visiting various sacred sites. While in Chalice Well Gardens, I’d sat down by the well head to meditate and get away from the rest of the crowd of students I was with for a while, and man and his young daughter sat down alongside of me. The little girl had to have been about 4 or 5 years old at most, and as most 4-5 year-olds are, she was a little rambunctious and was bouncing around a bit. Rather than be upset with her, or harsh, I heard her father very calmly explain this was a special place, and saw (much to my amazement and admiration really) her nod in understanding, and sit down to meditate with him.

The second vivid memory I hold dear from that trip (as far as sacred space and that goes) occurred while we were in Avebury. It was rather late, the sun was setting, and we really didn’t have much time to spend there, but I remember it being a much more tangible feeling of presence there. Perhaps it was because we could actually approach the stones; maybe it was just the liminal time of day we were there or the place itself. I couldn’t quite say.

As we wandered about the stones, we saw an older gentleman with rather wild grey curls sitting at the base of one of the smaller stones. He had candles, incense, etc. and was using dowsing rods. The rest of our group gave him sort of a wide berth, and I (as the sort of unofficial pagan authority of the crew) stood a respectable and out-of-earshot ways off, explaining to my roommate that he was probably using the dowsing rods to look for ley lines in the area. He then turned to look at us and asked: “Have you two got good imaginations on you?” We were a little surprised, but answered that yes, we supposed we did. “Do you know where the word imagination comes from?” We honestly weren’t sure. “I. Magi. Nation. A nation of magicians. Merlin is one of my guides, you know.” He then proceeded to tell us this tale about Merlin performing his first magic trick in the stone circle in which we stood: he’d turned a friend invisible and was unable to turn him back again. He also told us about how the Druids had used that place as a place for their initiations. I wasn’t at all sure on the historical accuracy of those things, but in the moment, you sort of wanted to suspend your disbelief. Awen was flowing, and you could almost see what he was describing in your mind’s eye. He then looked at us again and said: “I get Druid from both of you.” I was a little shocked because, of course, I was. I told him so, and he simply turned, and went back to his business of dowsing as though it had never happened. And for the life of me, I swear no one else seems to have seen or heard him say these things but my roommate and I. That is no doubt a mystery and a feeling I will remember for quite some time.

And finally, the last part for this prompt: circle casting. I’ll be honest, I don’t perform circle casting in my own work. For one, I’ve been studying off-and-on with a Druid organization for some time that doesn’t utilize them in their ritual formats. But, more importantly I find them to be distracting and a waste of energy and time. Circles, to my understanding, function for a few general purposes:

1. To contain and thereby magnify energy raised during a working until it comes time to release it at the end of the ritual.
2. To protect the individuals within and the magical working from the influence of any nasty / negative energy.
3. To create a sort of liminal and marked out place in which a ritual can occur and entities (spirits, gods, whatever) may be more easily contacted.

However, as I’ve mentioned above, I don’t generally feel a need to do this. For starters, I always cleanse a place before I use it, and if appropriate might make small offerings to any outside spirits that might be poking about to say “Hey, please let me use this space for a bit.” I don’t perform rituals in places where negative energy is hanging about, and I certainly am confident enough in my own ability to raise and manipulate my own energy to not feel a need for the circle of protection, or the circle that focuses energy in an external space. I also work with many liminal deities. I think it’s very safe to assume I don’t need liminal space for them to get messages across. When I do a particular magical working, my own personal energy field acts in the way a circle might: raising, containing, and releasing energy for my working. It eliminates the need for a physical circle- which means less time/resources marking it out, and I don’t need to cut a door in it should I forget something (which I often do!). It also helps hone in my focus on the working at hand. I often find that by the time I draw and cast a circle, call the quarters, etc. I’m quite distracted from what I was originally intending to accomplish.

Please note, I’m not bashing on anyone who uses circles. They can be quite useful to one’s practice especially when you’re just beginning! I just don’t feel a need to use them.

And, thus concludes a very long blog post. Thank you for hanging in there and reading if you’ve made it this far.

Love and blessings to you all
-Rachel

A Manifesto (Or the Big, Bad Post of My Beliefs)

In some attempt at negating a need to continuously link back to my other blog’s posts- and in part to really gather my thoughts and set out a foundation of what it is I believe about a variety of cosmological and general witchy topics- I’ve decided to make this post. It’s a sort of manifesto, a statement of belief, and of what standards I hold myself to in my personal practices as I start to rebuild them. For me, it will help to de-clutter my head space and focus on what my deeply held thoughts/beliefs/ideals are, and what things are no longer of use to me. And for you, it’ll give you a bit of an idea of where I’m coming from, and the belief system which influences my writing.

So. Let’s begin, shall we?

On Creation / Cosmology / The Nature of the Universe: Until very recently, I hadn’t really connected with a specific creation story in a way that had really resonated with me. About a year ago, I came across Frank Mills’s re-telling and analysis of The Oran Mór. I can’t entirely explain it, but something about this story just struck a chord deep within me, and almost immediately, it felt like a secret truth- a sort of means to have an origin story beyond science, but still allow for the science of evolution and the gradual development of different forces of life, natural movements of the earth, the possibility of alternate dimensions… Basically, it took science and faith and wove them into poetry (my retelling of it from Mills’s writing is found below):

The Oran Mór begins, as Mills describes, with stillness and silence. Then, softly at first, but with growing, spiraling momentum, a melody began to stretch out across the dark waters. In that crescendo, life began. But, the melody did not cease; it continued, cycling as knot-work might in an ever-continuing pattern of life and death, giving and receiving. In his essay, Mills continues to call The Oran Mór “the sea melody” and “the creative melody.” It is the Great Melody that “…flows through the myths and legends of submerged lands, mystical springs, life-giving cauldrons, and holy grails.” It is the Great Melody that inspires wisdom and creation both in the singer of it and those who hear it. It is this song that became the sacred song of life in Celtic tradition, and it is this song that drives us to create, to tell stories, to recount our histories, to go on pilgrimages, and even drives the urge to go “home” wherever that home may be. He even suggests that it is The Oran Mór that gives rise to the song-like Celtic languages.

He then turns to what he feels to be the basic question not only of Celtic Myth, but of life:“Why do you suffer?” Mills goes on to describe that though the song is still playing on, as it always has, we live now in an age where many cannot hear it and many more do not even bother to listen. We live in an age of fragmentation, of in-your-face individualism, and of a number of half-truths all trying to be presented as The Great Melody. In this world of conflicting ‘realities’ our souls are in a state of dis-ease. Because of this dis-ease, we have lost our way and our own connection with the divine powers of creation. We have lost touch with our co-creative role with the divine.

Still, though this seems a bleak analysis of the modern human condition, there is hope. Though we are, as Mills states, fragmented and in that fragmented state quite incapable of becoming one with The Great Melody once more, there is a means. We must find our hero, that “…divine nature with which we have been created that is within.” By finding that piece of our inner selves, we are able to succeed in the struggle between the fragmented state and connection with the song. In finding this state, we become one not only with ourselves and our world, but with all worlds and the places between them. Mills calls this place between the mundane world and the Otherworld the “One World.”

Mills suggests that to live sustainably and wholly, we need to learn to live within / with connection to The One World. When we find ourselves at one with and open to The Great Melody, the melody within us recognizes itself in melody of the Great Song. It is at this point, we find ourselves possessing great intuition. The Oran Mór brings to us, when we are able to recognize it and sing with it, “The Sight” of all things that were, all things that are, and all things that will be. Rather than living, as many traditions would suggest, with one foot in this world and one foot in the Other, Mills suggests that we live simultaneously in both worlds: in the One World. It is then that we rejoin once more with divine creation and find that we are no longer suffering.

Rather than using the scientific, impersonal terms of the Big Bang, the story of The Oran Mór is more visceral. It’s easier to imagine a song stirring in the darkness and gradually building and building and changing as worlds and life are created, than a sudden explosion that came out of (seemingly) nowhere in the vastness of space. And yet, in acknowledging that the song is changing, constantly creating, etc. it gives room for the scientific truths of evolutionary theory to coexist with spirituality. It gives, beyond then, a sense of meaning- we are part of the eternal forces of creation. We are one with all beings and all worlds, and our purpose, as is the purpose of all life, is to create. Being in-tune with that song of creation brings us closer to that connection, and allows us to do incredible things. All worlds exist within the song, and all things are but strands of melody within it.

On Gods / Spirits: Because The Oran Mór story doesn’t include a creator deity, it stands to reason that Gods, Goddesses, faeries, etc. were created by the Great Song. In Celtic myth, I’ve found especially, figures whom are now worshiped by neo-Pagans as deities are not really explicitly called as such. Some of this could have much to do with the means in which the stories were recorded by Christian monks, but could also, I think, have some to do with the fact that these myths were part of a rich and vibrant oral tradition. The figures linger somewhere in the fuzzy lines between history and legend.

It’s my personal gnosis that the gods are just that: somewhere in the spaces in between. I think they were beings who once lived, and had (hence their great abilities) a deep connection with The One World and the song of creation. Once they passed on, they became one again with that One World and the song. Because they were gifted, and because they were remembered, I think that they can still be reached through their legends, through the right strands of melody plucked from that song of creation. They can still offer us guidance and assistance. They, like the song, are in all things and all beings; you only need to have a properly trained ear.

On Life/Death/Rebirth & Where the Wylde Hunt Plays Into This at All: I explored this topic in-depth earlier in 2015, and my thoughts haven’t changed too much regarding the matter:

Much of my idea of life, death, and rebirth in this post will come from the Oran Mór myth and from the Three Circles of Manifestation concept in John Michael Greer’s The Druidry Handbook as these are the two that resonate the most with me personally.

In Greer’s chapter on The Three Circles of Manifestation it speaks of a pattern of reincarnation. To me, it felt a bit akin to the idea of finally reaching Nirvana in Eastern traditions.

In this pattern, all matter and “soul stuff” (for lack of better term) originate from Annwn, simultaneously Underworld-of-sorts and source of all building blocks for life. Once a soul has been born from the depths of Annwn, it begins a journey through many lifetimes. The realm in which this series of lifetimes takes place is Abred. The soul must experience and suffer all things through these different incarnations, moving from very simple single-celled life, into plants, into animals, and in the upper reaches of Abred, into human life. Throughout this process, the soul might move up and down between different life forms, learning all lessons there are for it to learn.

Once the soul has experienced all things, it moves onward into the realm of Gwynfydd. Here, each soul is allowed to rest and reflect, synthesizing all the lessons they have learned in their many lifetimes. The soul is given gifts of power and wisdom here, and soul is able now to reflect its own unique Awen (or as I’ve come to think of it, their strain of the Great Song).

Once a soul has learned to express its unique harmony, it may rise again into the realm of Ceugant. It is here that the gods dwell, and here that soul will dwell forever in peace, power, and knowledge.

I have begun to connect this to the Oran Mór as thus: if the One World is, as I feel that it is, like an ocean, could these not be viewed as sort of levels within that primordial and dark sea? Souls come forth from the depths of the One World. As we live through many lives, and learn all that there is to learn, we come to be aware of our connection to all that was, all that is, and all that will be. When he come to know our connection, and indeed to know on a soul-level, all things and their experiences, it is then that we move beyond to the next step.

With what we have learned, in Gwynfydd we learn to express our unique song and its reflections of all that our soul has learned. We begin to be able to sing, as Taliesin had:

I have been a multitude of shapes,
Before I assumed a consistent form.
I have been a sword, narrow, variegated,
I will believe when it is apparent.
I have been a tear in the air,
I have been in the dullest of stars.
I have been a word among letters…

Once we know our song and know of our ability to sing it in harmony with all the strands of the Great Song, we move beyond to Ceugant. Ceugant is the outer reaches of the One World, where the soul joins in the endless process of co-creation in the Great Melody.

For me, the Wylde Hunt exists as a sort of psychopomp-like entity. It moves within and without the various planes of existence. It is the force that brings the necessary end of one phrase of the song, so that another might take its place. It is the Wylde Hunt which, in my views, ferries a soul through these different realms of existence and onto wherever it is they are headed to next: a new life, a new realm, or even into their ranks.

For me, working with the Hunt entails honoring them as the wild forces of the Universe, working with them through transitional parts of the year (and I’m currently working on casting off the Wheel of the Year and developing my own) as well as those deep, transitional parts of my own life. I also feel called, on a personal level, to assist those I can on those same big transitional points of life to the best of my ability.

Things I Value Beyond All Else: The first is (of course) the natural world and the deep connection I feel with it: the faces I find in the trunks of trees and the exchanges I have with them, blazes of color in autumn that take my breath away, the absolute joy of identifying stars and planets in the night sky, winds strong enough to nearly blow me over- and gentle breezes that rattle the cottonwood leaves, the list could go on literally forever.

The next thing would be, I think, creativity. My ability to create, to share my thoughts and my expressions of self through poetry, photography, music, drawing, etc. etc. is incredibly valuable to me- and I always want to encourage and embrace that in those around me. We are most connected to all that is when we participate in leaving something of ourselves- our souls’ visions in the world.

And of course, there are the very traditional values of loyalty, hospitality, compassion, courage, honesty, respect, wisdom, peace… I tried, at one point, to make a sort of chivalric / ‘Hunters’ Code’. At best, it feels redundant. My thoughts now are basically this: be compassionate and respectful of all people, yet defend yourself and your energy should you be in danger; always seek truth and wisdom, and live honestly, fully, and in harmony to the best of your ability. 

On Some Witchy Topics: This is the part where I try to go through some of the main topics of discussion I’ve seen floating about the community and my stance on them.

• Laws of Return / The Wiccan Rede / Etc.: I don’t follow this exactly. Obviously, I would NEVER hurt anyone or anything intentionally, and I do believe this: if you put out nasty energy constantly, eventually some of that’s going to come back to you. The same is true of putting out positive energy. I don’t think it’s always a neat ‘three/five/ten/whatever times what you put out comes back’. Do accidents happen? Yes. My rule of thumb is to consider the consequences of my actions: How will this affect the whole?
• The Role of Ritual: I’ve explained a bit briefly elsewhere, but I’ll touch on it here, as well. Ritual here, means something deliberately done, and in a particular order that can be (and often is) repeated. Habits and routines are different in that they sort of become unconscious decisions after a time.
  For me, ritual is very indicative of careful thought and intention. Each step of the process has a specific meaning. It is thought-out and done intentionally because of its meaning, not because “well, we do it every day/year/etc.”The situations that lend themselves most towards being considered “ritual” in my personal life are, of course, spiritual. On the high days, there is a specific sequence of words, gestures, etc. that I perform to honor my gods and to celebrate the seasons. When I am in need of something and decide to do spell work, there is a set of motions that I go through with careful thought and focus on my intention. More mundane rituals, for me, might be graduation ceremonies, birthdays, funerals, celebrations of secular holidays, etc. Each time, there is an intention and a thought process that accompanies the set of actions. 
  These rituals, spiritual and mundane, for me mark passages through life and through time. They are the points where we are called to take stock of where we are, to reflect upon what has past, to celebrate all of those things, and to look forward towards what is yet to come. The word “ritual” for me denotes something sacred, not in the way that religious pilgrimage sites are sacred, but in the way that they remind us of our humanity, and call us out of our auto-piloted careening through everyday life.
• Circle Casting: I rarely, if ever, cast a circle when I’m doing witchcraft. For some people it is an awesome tool for focusing their energy, projecting their consciousness between realms of existence, and protecting themselves. For me, it is more distraction than anything; my energy is spent before I get to what it is I’m trying to do- and I’m all out of focus because I’ve spent a great deal of attention calling upon energy for the circle, the elemental quarters, and then deities. It is my opinion, that I can connect with energy, protect myself with personal sigils and amulets that are worn, and focus myself far more efficiently without one.
• Spells- And That Nasty Topic of Hexes/Curses: I do spells very sparingly. If I need some help with a situation, and I have done all that I can on a mundane level, then I may cast a spell. Hexes and Curses, I believe, aren’t necessarily grounds for condemnation. Do I think there are better uses of energy? Absolutely. Do I think that people who do them are totally valid? Absolutely. The closest I’ve come, personally, to doing a ‘curse’ was more akin to holding a mirror up to someone and saying “Look. Look at what it is you’re doing; it’s causing me distress.” It was an “I’m feeling desperate and cannot escape your presence, so look:…” type of spell used in, what I felt were, really extreme cases of self-defense.

And since, I’ve exhausted my immediate pile of topics that wouldn’t require a longer tangent (and some of these may yet get a longer post)- and I’ve gone on for just about 3,000 words, I think I will wrap this up. Above is, essentially, my personal beliefs about the Universe, the gods, and my thoughts on witchy practice. As I rebuild my spirituality, my focus is on connection: feeling truthfully and deeply connected with all that is around me. My goal is to create a regular practice that sustains me. It should aid me in difficult times, and allow me to soar in the more pleasant ones. It should be a living, breathing practice that has room for all aspects of my personality- all the verses of my song.

Until Next Time,
Rachel