Made Crone again!
Initiate: Read 1 – 5 Witchy Books
Maiden: Read 6 – 10 Witchy Books
Mother: Read 11 – 15 Witchy Books
Crone: Read 16 – 20 Witchy Books
Every day and every night that I say the genealogy 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
Fetaim lasrach soillse
Thoir cuireadh sinne
ris a’ bheatha
Brighid, Sublime Woman
Long may you burn bright!
You give us the invitation
to life everlasting
Once upon a time there was a small rabbit goddess named BunniHotep. Occasionally she liked to go down to the seaside and sit on the sand and watch the waves come in. One day she had been sitting there for sometime and was actually becoming a bit bored when she saw a woman walking down the beach.
BunniHotep watched her walk slowly toward her and waited. The woman was a beautiful shade of dark brown and her lively hair was even darker, the colour of rich beautiful Nile mud and she walked with a queenly stride but she also seemed to be very sad. Her lovely brown eyes seem to hold the woes of the world in them and it weighed heavily upon her. She came up to BunniHoTep and sank gracefully down beside her.
In a low quiet voice she asked BunniHoTep, “Are you the one who finds things?” She sighed and fell silent.
BunniHoTep looked at her a moment and replied, “Yes, that is what I do if it is needed. Did you lose something important?”
The woman replied, “Oh yes, I have lost something very important but not something I necessarily want to find.”
BunniHotep was confused, “What can I do if you don’t really want to find what you have lost?”
The woman paused, “Maybe I had better tell you my story. Have you the time to listen?”
“I always have time to listen,” BunniHotep said and she sat waiting with her ears up and ready.
“My name is Yemaya and I am the goddess of the ocean as well as of people’s hearts and I make the sea salty so it is like the blood that flows in each of us but I make it salty with my tears and I don’t want to cry anymore.”
BunniHoTep nodded, “I can understand that but what do you want me to find? Your sadness? I don’t think I can do that even if you really wanted me too. Isn’t there another way?”
“That is why I came to you, Isis told me long ago how clever you were at puzzles and finding things. I am so tired I can no longer think so do you think you can help me find a way to keep the sea salty and no longer cry and still help my people?”
BunniHoTep was quiet for quite awhile. She stared at the ocean and she knew the life there would start to die if she didn’t do something soon. And then she thought of something in her Temple that was just sitting there doing nothing.
“Ah Ha!” She said, I have just the thing. Wait right here!” And she hopped away as fast as she could for there was no time to waste!
She got to her Temple and asked one of her priestesses to get the object from the offering storeroom and to please carry it back for her while she hopped quickly back.
The priestess came running, breathing heavily over the sand because running across hot sand is hard work.
“I have it!” the Priestess said. She was carrying a large box with a funnel on top and a large handle and a big drawer on the bottom.
“Please set it down and stand back, please.” BunniHoTep motioned for Yemaya to move closer. “I think this will fix the problem. This is a special object. It makes salt. All you have to do is once a day, turn the handle and take what is in the box and spread it across the water. That way you make the sea salty and only cry for people if you feel the need to not because you have to do it.” BunniHoTep stepped back and let her try it.
Yemaya turned the crank slowly and then faster. She went and spread the salt from the drawer across the tide after she had ground a bit.
“Oh, BunniHoTep, Isis was right you are a clever and loving rabbit. I will always treasure this. Thank you!” And she placed a kiss on the forehead Isis loved to kiss. She gave her a quick stroke across her fur and picked up her new treasure and walked back down the beach like the goddess she was.
BunniHotep and the Priestess walked back to the Temple to share a few nice carrots and a cup of tea.
From my silly brain and the Lapin Archives
Initiate: Read 1 – 5 Witchy Books
Maiden: Read 6 – 10 Witchy Books
Mother: Read 11 – 15 Witchy Books
Crone: Read 16 – 20 Witchy Books
First two books are done. I think I’m driving myself crazy to do this paper on allegedly pagan literature for the Pagan Studies Conference at Claremont because I’m finding most things aren’t pagan and they really don’t qualify as literature.
If you know of any good pagan fiction authors other than the ones I have already confirmed, let me know in the comments.
Most are self identified or I know them
Diana Paxson – Former COG president
Kevin Hearne- OBOD – Iron Druid Series
Penny Billington – OBOD, Druid Detective series
Laurel K Hamilton
Ellen Everett Hopman- FOI (Fellowship of Isis)
Patricia Kennealy Morrison – Keltiad series
Mindy Klasky ? Cupcake Tarot?
Caitlin Matthews FOI
John Matthews FOI
Philip Carr Gomm OBOD
Kevan Manwaring OBOD
Ann Finnin – Roebuck
Barbara Ardinger – FOI
Once upon a time in the dark of a mid-winter night a star fell to earth. BunniHoTep heard a loud thump and rushed out of her cozy nest. She really hated to leave it. It was nice and snug and soft and a chilly mid-winter night all together a lovely place to sleep.
But she knew a noise that loud probably wasn’t a good thing and she was the Finder of Lost Objects so she had better go.
She got to the steps of her Temple and a bright light met her eyes. She threw a paw in front of her eyes and drew her soft shawl closer around her and hurried towards the light.
The light was quite a distance away from the street of Temples out in the desert. And as she got nearer she could hear it making strange noises like laughing. So she hurried across the sand as well as she could. She didn’t know where the other gods and goddesses were. It had been quite a loud noise but she seemed to be the only one who had wakened.
As she got nearer she noticed the light was human shaped but also was very like the Sun. The shape kept changing colour. First it looked like an Egyptian, then it looked like the pale men that came from the North in ships, then it was dark as beautiful polished ebony like her friend Yemaya. Next it was golden as cream and very small. Then it was a reddish bronze. BunniHoTep was very curious and as she got close to it for it was changing from boy to girl with each change colour she stopped and asked, “Who are you? Do you need help?”
A laugh rang out that sounded like the sweetest of the Temple bells. “Oh, no, I’m fine. I lost my bearings for a while. I’m Love and I’m here because you called me.”
BunniHoTep sat down with a thump. “I called You? How on earth did I do that?”
“Remember when you wished on a star awhile ago for people to get along and be nicer? We, the stars heard you. So we decided I’d come for a while to see if just for a while, all the people would be kinder to each other. I can only come for a small time. You see all the people all over the world will see me born this night in their likeness. Some people will call me Saturn, some will call me Mithras, some will call me Jesus, to others I will just be the light of Love, but all will see me as their symbol of Love and as the Sun who is born in mid-winter. And maybe for a while the world will be a magickal place of kindness and peace.”
BunniHoTep was quiet for a bit thinking. “You aren’t a god?”
“Oh no!” the Child of Light laughed again. “I’m much bigger and smaller than a god or goddess. Love has all kinds of shapes. I’m just here to remind the people and you of that.”
“Every year I will come again at this time and maybe sometime in the future all people will be kind and loving to each other and I won’t need to come, and if they don’t remember you will have to help me.”
“How do I do that?” BunniHoTep asked.
“By being yourself, BunniHoTep and as a symbol and to guide me here will you do something for me?” Love asked. “Would you light candles and lanterns in the trees around your Temple?”
“Oh yes,” BunniHotep agreed.
And that is why people all over the world are reminded to be kind and loving at mid–winter. And why people light the way for Love to return all over the world. So when you light the tree you brought inside remember to guide Love back to your heart.
The Littlest Druid pushed through the snowy afternoon. She needed to be at the next small village to sing at their Solstice celebration and she was afraid she wouldn’t make it. It didn’t snow often here but when it did it could quickly get very deep. She was cold and she was wet and she smelled like a wet sheep.
Her raven had flown ahead a long time ago and she was feeling very alone. She wished she was warm and safe in her village waiting for the Solstice in the barrow (Brú na Bhoinne) waiting for the Sun to return. Being a Bard was way harder than she thought. She had mediated a village disagreement that was just plain silly at her last village. She had sung every song at about the Fae at another one, they hadn’t wanted to hear anything else.
The Sun had disappeared a few hours ago and she was now following the stars to the next village. She was homesick and she was tired of the dark and she was missing Beith and the Head Druid who was so kind to her and she was feeling very alone in the dark with just her pack and her staff and musical instruments for company.
All the sheep and cows had been gathered into the crofts and the only animals she had seen were a few deer. There was no one to talk to out here.
She started to hum a rather sad tune that had begun haunting her several hours ago. It was started to cloud over and she was afraid it would begin to snow again, she gave a huge sigh.
“Oh, Aisling, that was a particularly big one,” a soft voice said behind her.
Aisling almost levitated out of her boots. She turned and saw a familiar green mantle. “Brighid!” she shrieked. She had a very strong impulse to hug her favourite goddess. She stopped. One does not hug goddesses particularly when one is wet and cold and stinking of sheep.
Brighid grabbed her around the shoulders and gave her the hug she’d wanted to give her. Suddenly she was warm and dry and a lot more comfortable. Her raven came flying back and landed on Brighid’s other shoulder.
“I love that you are here out in the middle of all this snow and I thank you for the warmth but why are you way out here?” Aisling asked bravely.
“You” said Brighid. “Bards should bring hope and cheer at Solstice to welcome the flame and the birth of the Sun. You are getting close to the village and they want you to celebrate with them. You are a light for their Solstice.”
“I don’t feel like a light right at the moment, at all.” She said rather emphatically.
“I know, Aisling, I know. That’s why I’m here. You can see the village lights shining across the snow? This village really needs you to be their light in the dark. There were a lot of deaths near Samhain and they have been very sad and in a dark, dark place. No Bard or Druid has been here for many months. You will be the first in a long time.”
“How can I be a light when all I want to do go home and be with my people? Until you came I was cold and miserable and very stinky”
“Aisling, look around you and what do you see?” As they had been walking the sky had cleared and stars shown.
“I see the stars, oh so many bright stars. I see tall trees and oh! There are some rabbits under the trees. And a deer and there’s an owl in that tree ahead.”
“Were you alone?” asked Brighid raising an eyebrow.
“Nooo,” replied Aisling.”I was a little blindered, wasn’t I?”
“We all get that way sometimes.” Brighid said thoughtfully.
“Even you?” Aisling asked
“Even me.” nodded Brighid.
“It’s hard to look for the good in the world. It’s hard to look for beauty and for the love in the world when all looks dark.” said Brighid.
“Your job, though, is to remind people there is good in the world even at the darkest of times and hours. The Sun always returns at the darkest hour and so does hope. There is always life in death and light in dark and a spark of hope if you know where to look. You just have to remember to look.” Brighid pointed to a woodpecker with his bright red head diving onto a tree branch. A full moon had risen as they were walking and it was very, very still.
Beautiful lights gleamed across the snow in welcome. Aisling felt calm and ready to face this sad village. She strode forward and Brighid faded away.
She was ready to be the light.
The night was silent, not even the owl was calling. The tomte looked up at the night sky. Oh, so many stars flew in flocks overhead. The tomte trudged through the snow that was so deep he kept disappearing into deep holes and he was getting wet from climbing out of snowdrifts.
The tomte was looking for a new home. Tomtes had to have homes with families to look after and his family had left their house and moved far away. Tomtes belong on farms and not in the city so he was looking for a new home and some big people who would appreciate him and of course, didn’t already have their own tomte. The tomte sighed, as he made his way through the snow, he really wanted a home for Yule. He wanted children to bring gifts to and a farmer to bless with help on his farm. That is what tomtes did and he didn’t feel right not helping people.
He straightened his tall red pointed cap and tugged his beard straight and climbed out of yet another snow drift when he saw a light in the distance. He was so tired and wet. There was no point in using a drying spell if he was just going to get wet again. He trudged toward the light and came to a large new barn and peered inside. No other tomte was in sight. That was a good sign. He went in and found two cows drowsing in their stalls.
“Cows?” He whispered quietly, “Does a tomte live here?”
The first cow who was a beautiful light brown, looked down at the tomte. “No, we haven’t got a tomte and the family really needs one. This is a brand new farm and my name is Elsie”
“Hello Elsie, very pleased to meet you, my name is Karl, do you think they would mind a little help? Are they the kind of people who would be good to help? ”
The second cow lowed and said, “I’m Delsie and they have never been farmers before and they do need help and they have been very kind to us. I think we are their only wealth and they take very good care of us. I heard them say to the children that they might not get very much for Jul but that that wasn’t what was important. Being together was important.”
This made the tomte think. These might be the people he needed. The cows were beautiful and healthy and that was a very good thing since they hadn’t had a tomte to help them. He thought he’d go watch the family quietly if he could just to make sure they were his people.
The tomte trudged through the snow following some big people footprints back to the house. That made moving through the fresh snow a little easier. He followed the light falling through the window onto the snow and peered into the house from behind the new shutters. The tomte was impressed with how they had been sanded to a shiny soft shine and stained. These people took good care of what they had and had been doing it without a tomte!
In the main room stood a small tree that had been brought into the house in a pot. It’s branches had been hung with strands of popped corn and red berries. There were handmade ornaments of paper that had been obviously done by the children and he could see the mother cutting carefully into paper to make more snowflakes to hang on the tree. The two children were lying on the rug in front of the fire listening to a story that the grandmother was telling. It looked like she was knitting good wool socks as she spoke. The father was sitting smoking his pipe and listening and looking at the family with love and pride in his eyes. The tomte saw that there were no gifts under the Jul tree. He also saw that their clothes had been carefully mended but showed signs of hard wear. The tomte straightened his red hat and thought, “these people look like they could use a tomte like me! I need to help them!”
The tomte made his way over to the door and was about to go through as all tomtes can when the door swung open and the father came out to get more firewood. “That was easier!” thought the tomte as he quickly went to the house and hid behind the hanging brooms in the kitchen.
He waited into the father came in, stamping his feet to get the rest of the snow off and removing his boots. The father then piled the load carefully in the rack and went to hurry everyone to bed. It was Solstice Eve and farmwork and cows still had to be tended to in the early morning. The tomte watched as the family went to bed. The children went to the loft and the parents and grandmother to their rooms downstairs. The house settled down and it became very quiet with only the sound of snow falling off the trees and the slight sigh of the wind.
The tomte went to the mud room first. He cleaned the farmer’s boots and added a waterproofing spell. He then cleaned all the family’s clogs and shoes that were there and waterproofed them too. He went into the kitchen and charmed the pots so they wouldn’t burn the food and he had fun helping the yeast to grow in the bread and Jul rolls rising on the counter above the old wood burning stove. He polished the iron stove and charmed it too so the wood would burn evenly and there would be even heating.
He moved into the main room and stood looking at the lovingly decorated tree. It wasn’t very big but it was still lovely. He liked that the family had carefully dug up a live tree and were obviously going to put it outside again when they could. He liked that they hadn’t killed a tree for the holiday. The tomte decided to make the tree shine. He charmed the red berries to gleam and shine and he made the wooden ornaments glow just a little. He changed the paper snowflakes into flakes of shiny crystal that gleamed in the dimness. He put a spell on the candles that were on the tree to never cause harm and to go out when they burned down. He stood back and looked at his tree. It looked magical. What else could he do?
Tomtes give gifts but he didn’t know what this family wanted. What would be good? What would really help? Meanwhile while he thought, he very quietly left piles of nuts and fruit and candy in the slippers by each bed. The family all looked so peaceful and he felt so good to help. This is what a tomte did best but what would be the biggest help? He decided to go ask Elsie and Delsie what to do.
He hurried through the snow and back to that mostly empty barn to his new friends. “Elsie! Delsie! Your family is so wonderful and they love each other so much. I want to do something wonderful for them this Jul! Do you know anything they want or need?”
Elsie thought carefully, “They have love in plenty and isn’t that the greatest gift?” Delsie nodded her big head.
Delsie said quietly, “If you are helping them, they will have prosperity. What else do they need? Besides don’t tomtes all have goats? Where’s your goat?”
The tomte knew they were right but he still wanted to do something special. And then he knew what he was going to do and found a place in the hay and went quickly to sleep.
Early the next morning, the tomte woke up and cleaned the hay off. He peeked out. The farmer must not be up yet. He couldn’t see any lights in the kitchen. So he crept in the house and unbanked the fire in the stove and set the table. He went back outside and sent a call out to anyone that was listening.
“I’m a tomte and I need a goat? Is there anyone who needs a tomte and a place?” The tomte counted to himself, 1….2…..3……. and there was a small flash and a very young black and white goat was looking shyly at the tomte.
“You asked for a goat? I’m ready! The goat said eagerly.
The tomte looked at the tiny goat, “what’s your name?”
“Flicka” said the goat shyly.
Suddenly the door opened behind the tomte. He froze in place holding the goats mane.
And the farmer came out with his newly clean boots on.
The farmer smiled down at the tomte. “Are you the one that cleaned my boots?” the big man roared out.
The tomte shivered a little. He wasn’t supposed to be caught by the big people. “yes” he said very quietly.
The farmer got down to the tomte’s level and looked in his eyes. He held out his big hand to the tomte. By now the tomte was thoroughly confused. Big people coming down to his size? That hadn’t ever happened before.
“Thank you” the farmer said. “They look cleaner than when I bought them. “Thank you very much!” The tomte started to shake. The farmer was really big up close. “How can I help a tomte today?”
The tomte was now even more confused. “But I need to help you not you help me.” The tomte stammered out. “I need to know if you need anything.”
The farmer looked into the deep blue eyes of the tomte. The tomte noticed the whole family had come to the door and was listening. This was sooo not how it was supposed to work.
The farmer looked at the tomte kindly and back at his family. “All we need this Jul is a good friend. Are you a good friend, Sir Tomte?”
“I think so, I try to be.”
“Well”, said the farmer. Welcome to the house, Sir Tomte and please come in.” The farmer stood up and walked back in the house.
Karl, the tomte followed and when they were inside. He looked up at the farmer and around to the smiling family. “Could I be your Tomte?” he asked quietly.
The farmer looked at the tomte, “I thought you already were. Welcome to our house.” The whole family cheered and the tomte looked at his family and sighed. It was good to be home.
Author of Flood
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