Archive | April 2, 2013

Flame for Laura

Every day and every night that I say the geneology of Brighid
I shall not be killed
I shall not be harmed
I shall not be put into a cell
I shall not be wounded

No fire, no sun, no moon shall burn me
No lake, no water, no sea shall drown me.

For I am the child of Poetry,
Poetry, child of Reflection,
Reflection, child of Meditation,
Meditation, child of Lore,
Lore, child of Research,
Research, child of Great Knowledge,
Great Knowledge, child of Intelligence,
Intelligence, child of Comprehension,
Comprehension, child of Wisdom,
Wisdom, child of Brighid.
Carmina Gaedelica edited by Lunea Weatherstone

May my words be as considered as poetry,
May I reflect on all I do or say,
May I meditate on those things important spiritually
May I seek to know more of the lore
May I research what I am curious about and what will enable me to grow
May I seek to know great knowledge,
May I acknowledge the intelligence of others
May I comprehend what I seek to learn and apply those lessons
May I know that seeking wisdom is not the same as being wise.
May I be a child of Brighid.

SelfBlessing is by me

Brighid, bean-oirdheirc
Lasrach grad
Fetaim lasrach soillse
Thoir cuireadh sinne
ris a’ bheatha
mhaireannach`

Brighid, Sublime Woman
Quick flame
Long may you burn bright!
You give us the invitation
to life everlasting

I’m a bad person and totally afraid to be different.

I’m having a bit of a laugh and I shouldn’t because it falls on the side of mean and normally I try not to be but still I’m wildly amused by someone who got their panties in a bunch over the veiling part of my post yesterday and accused me of being afraid to be different on her blog. Obviously she is not a regular reader of my blog or she would know how far off that is. Right wyrmwwd?

Really afraid to be different? Let’s see out lesbian since 1979? Nothing different there. Born blind and was the only kid in school with glasses which they had to specially make the nose of because they weren’t small enough in 1959. Wearing glasses at the age of 2 and bifocals at 4 and eye surgery at 7? Nothing different there. Wearing corrective footwear? Nothing different there. Being cross-eyed when I get tired? Nothing different there.

Reading at a 10th grade level at 3rd grade? Nothing different there. Being one of 6 Gentiles in my school ? Nothing different there. Being the tallest in my class until I transferred at age 9 and then the smallest in my new school? Nothing different there.

Being the one in my department at work who never wears pink or dresses like the rest of the women at work? Today it’s button down shirt and jeans. Totally feminine and fit right in.

Walking with a cane? Nothing different there.

So being an out lesbian witch/druid isn’t different? Really? Being a formally trained witch since 1984 and when everyone was clamouring to be a pagan? Not! And that’s if you don’t count the family folk magic. Having my degree with 6 minors? No, that’s not different. Belonging to a coven of mostly lesbian scientists? Not too different.

Being a silver-smith, glass worker and story teller and the only woman on the pirate guild crew that was really crew and not a wench at Ren Faire. Not so different. At least in my world.

Having a sense of humour thats just left of the Far Side. Oops that’s not different.

Please tell me when I’m going to actually not be different? Because I gave up fitting in a looooonnnnng time ago.

Commercial and Request time

I have a simple request – if you have bought my books on Amazon would you consider rating or writing a review?

And should you be interested you can buy or in the case of the Kindle books consider taking them out on loan from Amazon.

Thanks!

Miss Kat’s School of Genteel Witchcraft

http://www.amazon.com/Miss-School-Genteel-Witchcraft-ebook/dp/B0049P22TY/ref=sr_1_4?ie=UTF8&qid=1364937274&sr=8-4&keywords=mary+beth+robb

The Tales of BunniHoTep – on Kindle and in paperback

http://www.amazon.com/Tales-BunniHoTep-Mary-Beth-Robb/dp/1460999789/ref=pd_sim_b_1

The Heart Town Witch and Other Stories

http://www.amazon.com/Heart-Town-Witch-Other-Stories/dp/146621239X/ref=pd_sim_b_1

Today’s reading

image

Heron

Queen of Cups

Greeting the dawn, often alone, the heron is reputed to be gifted with psychic perception and reflection.

The guardian of many esoteric secrets, it is said to stand at the gateway between life and death and to act as mediator on the soul’s journey to the Celtic Otherworld and reincarnation.

Drawing this card denotes someone who is deep, wise, knows when to be silent; is psychic, emotional, able to be solitary, but also able to impart wisdom with maturity and responsibility.

Someone able to be still enough to receive gifts of wisdom. Tendency to day dreaming and over-passivity.

Poetry month

Praise Song for the Day

by Elizabeth Alexander

A Poem for Barack Obama's Presidential Inauguration 2008

 Each day we go about our business,
 
walking past each other, 

catching each other's eyes or not,

about to speak or speaking. 

All about us is noise. 

All about us is noise and bramble,

thorn and din, 

each one of our ancestors on our tongues.

Someone is stitching up a hem, 

darning a hole in a uniform, 

patching a tire, 

repairing the things in need of repair. 

Someone is trying to make music somewhere, 

with a pair of wooden spoons on an oil drum, 

with cello, boom box, harmonica, voice. 

A woman and her son wait for the bus. 

A farmer considers the changing sky. 

A teacher says, Take out your pencils. Begin. 

We encounter each other in words, words spiny or smooth, 

whispered or declaimed, 

words to consider, reconsider. 

We cross dirt roads and highways


that mark the will of some one and then others, 

who said I need to see what's on the other side. 

I know there's something better down the road. 

We need to find a place where we are safe. 

We walk into that which we cannot yet see. 

Say it plain: that many have died for this day. 

Sing the names of the dead who brought us here, 

who laid the train tracks, 

raised the bridges, 

picked the cotton and the lettuce,

built brick by brick the glittering edifices 

they would then keep clean and work inside of. 

Praise song for struggle, 

praise song for the day. 

Praise song for every hand-lettered sign, 

the figuring-it-out at kitchen tables. 

Some live by 


love thy neighbor as thyself, 

others by 

first do no harm 

or take no more than you need. 

What if the mightiest word is love? 

Love beyond marital, filial, national, 

love that casts a widening pool of light, 

love with no need to pre-empt grievance. 

In today's sharp sparkle, this winter air, 

any thing can be made, 

any sentence begun. 

On the brink, on the brim, on the cusp, 

praise song for walking forward in that light.

Godspousery and mediumship

One of my concerns about godspousery has to do with mediumship. Being a medium is a talent you are born with, it isn’t something you can just decide to be. It can be a gift and it can be a curse. I ought to know I’ve been one all my life. I don’t talk about it much because other people don’t understand and people who know things they shouldn’t know scare the crap out of people.

What does this have to do with godspousery? I would think if you were going to pursue a relationship with a deity you would want to have some communication with them and if you have the gift (?) of mediumship you are asking to put yourself in proximity to a rubber room. Being a medium is hard enough without that added component.

As I said I have been a medium all my life. It ranges from knowing things with no source you can cite to full on having someone move in your head and either push you out or move and talk to you at the same time and let me tell you, that can hurt…a lot!

From the time I was little I’ve had what I think of as drive by dumps of information that I spontaneously KNEW and then had to tell. If your mother is not especially fond of her mother’s gifts having her daughter tell her things she should not know will either anger her or freak her out. You learn to shut up about what you know very, very quickly because sharing things from people who are dead and you couldn’t know because you are 5 can get an explosive reaction and they accuse you of eavesdropping or lying neither of which are true.

When I was nine a trigger appeared, 3 times in one day and I ended up losing one of my best friends over it. The first was as I got to school that morning my friend, Diana came running up and said “Guess what?” I immediately without thinking said, “Your dog had puppies.” And Diana freaked out because their momma dog had killed every single puppy she had ever given birth to and so they had stopped telling people that the dog was pregnant. For some reason this time she didn’t and she ended up being a good mom but how did I know that? I don’t know. All I know is it came out my mouth and never hit my brain first.

A while later my best friend said the same thing and I told her that her dog had died, also something that I had no way of knowing before it came out of my mouth. Her basset hound had tried to jump the fence that morning and hung himself on his leash. That scared K so bad I saw her literally retreat from me and she was never as close again. I remember seeing some kind of tie break at the time.

I’ve been racking my brain trying to remember the third thing but at the moment I can’t all I know is that it was a repeat of the first two, someone saying, “Guess what?” and me popping out with something I had no way of knowing before hand and it coming out of my mouth and never have it go through my mind first. Scared the living crap out of me and I shut down for a long time after that except for dead people like my grandmother visiting me the same night she died.

Periodically this would happen but never 3 in one day until the mid 80’s and all of a sudden I couldn’t shut anything out from anybody. I could hear what people were thinking. I could tell everything people were feeling whether they were near me or not. And to make matters worse a good friend died and visited me and I was stupid enough to tell my mom that Jim was dead and I’d seen him and spoke to him. Mom immediately called everyone she knew that was close to Jim in the choir who told her he was not dead and of course, condemned me for saying it and his best friend who was also in choir was just livid that I would even say that. But it turned out there had been a delay in notification and he had been taken to the hospital in an ambulance and had died. In fact he was one of the first deaths in what would come to be known later as AIDS. They said at the time it was his liver but I’ve seen too many die since then not to know what he died of. Anyway J to this day has never forgiven me for Jim visiting me and not her when he died. She still wasn’t speaking to me at my mom’s funeral a few years ago.

I was out of control and going out of my mind when Kathy made me go to her HP and my first ritual so I could maybe get some training to at least make it my choice and thank heavens, she was right. I learned to make shields of my choice and how to raise and lower them and that I didn’t have to emulate a radio picking up all frequencies and broadcasting them back out because I was broadcasting to anyone who could hear. Not good!

The only other time I have been overwhelmed since was a Hallows celebration where we drank mugwort tea to be open to whomever wanted to communicate. The veil was thin and I caught a really big fish, as in pissed off demigod/hero in the Scottish/Irish tradition. I have never felt such mental pain. My head literally felt like it was too small to hold her and she was pissed. From what I eventually put together after I recovered and what I said at the time, no one had talked to her in a very long time and she had things to say and I was the first Gaelic speaking/understanding being to be open enough for her to get a hold of in centuries and by goddess she was going to take it. She spoke very archaic Gaelic and I never did sort all of it out. And everyone else there could see what kind of trouble I was having and couldn’t do anything to help. (Yeah, everyone wants an audience for that, not!)

And now we are getting to my point. If I had that much trouble and pain from a demigod how much more would a full deity that wants to communicate do? There is no way communicating with a deity in that fashion would not cause pain especially if the god in question is someone like Loki or Ares/Mars. It’s one thing to have a UPG it’s a whole other thing to have something move into your head. Human beings are frail and breakable and all I can see is there might be a case of someone (a god) not knowing their own strength. If you are untrained in the concept of protecting your mind or shielding or even knowing how to shove someone back out of your head the whole thing seems to me to be a very bad idea. You’d have a migraine at the very least. And I had a whopper and couldn’t drive home afterwards and ended up crashing on the floor and I was wiped for days afterward and I’ve had training and practice.

Most of the people who say they are practicing this are very young women and there is no way they have had enough training to take that kind of communication on and why would you do it if you can’t have that kind of communication. Also some of the descriptions scream Vegas wedding as I’ve known you a small amount of time, let’s get married. I thoroughly believe in living with someone before you marry them and living with them a good long time, none of which seems to be happening.