I’m afraid that another reason there isn’t a need for advanced Wicca classes are people like me. The ones who practice in the style of Granny Weatherwax in the Discworld series by Terry Pratchett. The ones who are old enough to realize that intent, headology, style and practicality work better than any spellbook or course that can be bought or looked up on the internet. And you can’t teach that.
Practitioners like me know spells that work are not dependent on the right colour candle or the correct herb. That there is always a substitution that will work if your will is focused enough. That tools are extensions of your intent and you and not the other way around.
One of my favourite scenes in the Discworld books is Granny W using the wash tub for a cauldron and a kitchen tool for a wand. And Magrat , the new age apprentice not exactly knowing what to do about it. Nanny Ogg falls somewhere in between but mostly on the practical side just more pleasant about it.
We know that practice makes perfect and focus is always the practice and the point not objects. That most of the stuff people say you HAVE to have is bunk. Practice makes a magical practitioner not reading a book or taking a class or reading or even writing a blog. That knowing what the moon and sun and stars are doing is nice but not necessarily important. That just because it says use sage for the spell doesn’t mean that if you don’t have it you can’t substitute rosemary instead.
Thinking is the most important thing. Common sense is better than a grimoire. Things like being skyclad when it’s cold is stupid and better to wear clothes than catch pneumonia even if the calendar says it’s supposed to be spring. That maybe tying back your long flowing hair is a smart thing to do before you light the bonfire or candle if you want to keep it. Burning hair smells really bad and you do not need to be the ritual sacrifice. Sacrifice stupidity instead.
An open mind and heart and common sense are the best advanced Wicca classes.
Scotch-Irish (or Scots-Irish) Americans are American descendants of Presbyterian and other Protestant dissenters from the Irish province of Ulster who migrated to North America during the 18th and 19th centuries.
My Great Grandmother would never use this term even though she emigrated from Northern Ireland as far as she was concerned she was a Scot who happened to have had to live in Northern Ireland before she moved to Canada and she was still a Scot when they emmigrated again in 1901 to Los Angeles and never ever contradict her.
According to Webster the definition of Gael
Definition of GAEL
: a Scottish Highlander
: a Celtic especially Gaelic-speaking inhabitant of Ireland, Scotland, or the Isle of Man
Bonnie Charlie’s noo awaSafely o’er the friendly main; He’rts will a’most break in twaShould he no’ come back again.Chorus Will ye no’ come back again?Will ye no’ come back again? Better lo’ed ye canna beWill ye no’ come back again? Ye trusted in your Hieland menThey trusted you, dear Charlie; They kent you hiding in the glen,Your cleadin’ was but barely.(Chorus) English bribes were a’ in vainAn’ e’en tho puirer we may be Siller canna buy the heartThat beats aye for thine and thee.(Chorus) We watch’d thee in the gloamin’ hourWe watch’d thee in the mornin’ grey Tho’ thirty thousand pound they’d gi’eOh, there is nane that wad betray.(Chorus) Sweet’s the laverock‘s note and lang, Liltin’ wildly up the glen,But aye to me he sings ane sang, Will ye no come back again? (Chorus)
May the dead lie peacefully here
May they know their lines carried on all over the world
May they know we remember them
May they know we still bear their names
May they know that through us they still live
May they know we remember their bravery
in the face of a well fed and well armed army
when you were hungry and armed with little more than swords
May they know we remember the sometimes foolish seeming cause
May they remember
May we remember
May we remember
May we remember
I remember the Stewarts of Appin
I remember the MacGregors
I remember the Livingstons
I remember the Robertsons
I remember my dead.
Knight of Stones
Revered as a ruthless tracker and hunter, the wolf has had a special symbolism for thousands of years and was the subject of ancient Pictish stone carvings. Comfortable in the dark and cold of winter, it was seen as a guardian of the deadon their journey through the night to the Otherworld.
This card is one of guardianship. Someone who is essentially protective, a loyal companion on long journeys, who remains their own person.
A defender of your boundaries, leaving you safe to withdraw from the world. A provider, but one who is not tied to a life at home, but is restless. Their power needs matching to hold them.