Words have power. In ritual—even solitary ritual—the spoken word can move, inform, reinforce, set intention and make more “real” what is not yet real. By speaking and hearing words, our minds are reshaped around their meanings, and we begin to believe, just a little bit more, that they are true.
I hate that this empowering phrase has been coopted by a sweatshop-operating shoe company, but I’m not going to let them have it, either. This post is about getting your practice going, and keeping it going. Paganism–including Atheopaganism–is something you do. It isn’t just about having a particular worldview, although worldviews…
In my Wheel of the Year, the cross-quarter which lands around the beginning of February is Riverain: the Feast of Water. That’s because where I live, in Northern California with its Mediterranean climate, that time of year is the heaviest with rainfall. The mountains grow emerald green with winter grass, the…
It begins where the smoke hits your eyes: smouldering peat, Mutton stew on a broad iron hook, Deep snow. How can it ever have been summer? Apples wrinkling and mice in the barley— With so much to fear, thank fortune for company! We’ll tell our…
It’s a gunmetal grey day, portending welcome rain. The last of the autumn foliage is still evident, this being Northern California, and somehow it is calm and silent in our neighborhood despite the proximity to shopping districts. Today is the day I declare it: the season of Yule has begun.
O cold, inexorable darkness Draw back now beyond these circling walls. Should fear, and want, and danger walk It shall not be, it is not here. Let this place of warming light Bulwark against freezing night: a promise Holding through the day that we, come nightfall…
