Showing posts with label TruthTeller. Show all posts
Showing posts with label TruthTeller. Show all posts

Monday, June 22, 2009

“A time out of time, and space out of space"


I have done a lot of ritual magic over the years. As part of a coven we often worked together to ask for such things as healing or bounty for all of the covenstead. Indeed, I was trained in a healing grove so a lot of our work was for that purpose. Lady Amber always began her classes with very specific instructions and tools. By the time students initiated, they could cast circle and a ritual with no tools at all. Skill in both methods has its own time and place. Indeed, I have gone from being trained very ritualistically to become a very eclectic witch. But I think beginning with such a ritualistic approached honed my abilities.

Now as a solitaire and part of our loose, unnamed, circle of women that shifts from celebration to celebration, my magick use also shifted considerably. Indeed, cones of power aren't a large part of my life these days. Usually we do one in our group, but it's pretty watered down at our women's group--not the kind of energy raising I did as a covener. I looked in my book of shadows the other day, and since taking my third degree two years ago I might have less than a half dozen new workings in it. I had thought maybe I had fallen behind on what I should do. I love this topic, because it has provided me opportunity to think it through... I think I have done exactly enough. And there are other things to do with ritual. Often we celebrate the sabat/esbat; maybe do a visualization to draw upon its meaning and invoke its power in our lives.

I've come to believe that asking (or doing magick) for what we want/need can be part of personal responsibility. The gods/esses give us voice and the ability to direct our will. When we need something, we have the ability to do both mundane/magick things to make it happen. I don't belive that we are limited by the god/esses within ethical boundaries. For me, it's more like I had grow enough to know to ask. I had a hard time, for many years, reaching beyond my own self-imposed limits caused by shame and wounds of the past.

Furhtermore, for me magick is prayer with props. And often I no longer need the props. Instead, I seem to keep a running conversation with my Lady, whispering words or demanding needs as appropriate. I find the Universe tends to listen if I am bodacious and clear. Tentativeness does not get anywhere. And perhaps that where props are most useful, because they can focus intent and sometimes even multiply it. But I can't always be home in front of my altar when needs arise.

Major workings, for me, require major planning. I have a friend who needs a healing ritual in the fall. I talked it over with the woman who will maiden last night. Cameron will priest (she channels male energy amazingly well). We'll spend a lot of time working out our thoughts; I'll revisit a chakra balancing visualization I worked up four years ago. We'll all spend a lot of time thinking it through and we probably won't do the work until after Samhain. It's that serious of a working.

Shifting my thoughts a little: Sacred space may contain a very formal altar setting with all the elements, gods, goddesses, etc represented. Or it may be devoted to a specific need. Currently I have only a central candle with a spiral path drawn in dirt to represent my friend Truth Teller's passage to summerlands. Last night our little group at the house added pink/green candles charge with balance and harmony to see the griever's through this time. Each person present charged the candles with our intent -- the room fairly hummed before we were done. The candles will burn anytime we're home to tend them --and we envision them burning steadily in our own astral spaces.

I think sacred space becomes very individualistic. I have come to think of spaces in which I do therapy with my clients as sacred space. A place to touch the numinious and to tap into the archetypes of the universe to find the warriors, heroes, seekers within us all.

I do much less magick than I used to. I also include what I want "or better" to leave room for the universe's creative energy to provide things I haven't even thought of. Often it's not specific outcomes which I target, anyway. Like for the mourners for Truth Teller. I asked for balance and haromny so that each person's higher self, especially Priestess, can move through the process of mourning in their own ways and at all their own pace (nope, I'm not a fluffy bunny, but all thoughs have their place!). Spells like this I actually think of as "prayers with props".
Usually, I believe, our high selves know what we need to. So sending energy to higher self is often quite enough. Your own good intent reached the universe, for example, without your ever having worked magick, still resulted in a positive outcome simply because you put positive energy out there without forcing your own intent. Or at least, that can be one interpretation : )

I believe magick is much like a very strong herb. A little bit can go a long way.

Thursday, June 18, 2009

Truth Teller Has Crossed into the Summerlands


Truth Teller has passed into the summerlands.
After the meeting with hospice/palliative care, Priestess made the decision to withdrawal all the tubes and ties to machines. Without such paraphernalia in the way, she was able to crawl into the bed and hold her husband until he breathed his last.

Friends are notified and coming. We shall step into that sacred space of death and honor the man we knew. Amazing grace will be played on bagpipes. Songs will be song. Stories will be told. The Christian funeral this Sunday will be followed by a pagan celebration of his life near Samhain.

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

The Last Spiral



The cycle of birth, death and rebirth is at the heart of paganism. Tonight Truth Teller stands on that spiral path that leads to the summerlands. Stories of Inanna, Persephone and Demeter, Lugh’s Crossing, Ishtar and Tammuz, Venus and Adonis, Isis and Osiris remind us of this eternal pattern. The wheel of the year, the Holly King and the Greenman all speak to that sacred space we call death. Like the labyrinth, the only way out is through the center.

Tonight Truth Teller walks the spiral ever inward. He leaves behind his body, destroyed by diabetes. He leaves behind this physical reality and the demands of the living. He takes with him the love of his wife, the love of his friends, and his higher self.

I carry away my memories of a man who could patiently wait for me to learn that not all men are scum. I will remember a man who was a safe friend. I carry the memory of man who had honor and love to offer his friends. A memory of man handfasting a woman he loved more than his own life. When I needed money to care for a puppy, he was there. When I needed to hear what I wanted to deny, he was there.

With this light, may Truth Teller find his way to the Summerlands. Tonight we cannot walk with him. It is a journey for Truth Teller alone and whatever concept of Deity he has come to know. May he know that he goes in perfect love and perfect trust. As all must go in our time, we release Truth Teller to go in your own time into the Summerlands.

So mote it be.

A Followup on the Dream

The dreaded call came this afternoon. Just before I was to have supervision at our clinic, Cameron called me to say she had talked to Priestess. As I stood in that lonely upstairs room, darkened by threatening storm clouds, Cameron said she had just gotten off the phone with Priestess. Determined to hold herself together, and to be strong for me, Cameron said that Priestess was about to meet with the palliative care/hospice team to determine best care for Truth Teller.

This once strong, beautiful man with graceful fingers and keen insight lies in a hospital bed, dependent on dialysis. He is missing seven fingers. Gangrene proceeds its way up his leg. Emaciated because his body cannot digest food, he is in agony and drugged to the point of having hallucinations. No wonder he could spirit walk.

Two years ago Cameron and I witnessed his second handfasting with Priestess. Knowing he would not live out a normal life expectancy, they promised to find each other again, vowing: "Around the wheel and down through the years." Tears came to my eyes.

Later, Cameron, Hermit and I witnessed Priestess' croning. Priestess asked to break with tradition and have her husband there. But he couldn't come because Truth Teller was ill that night. Other circles, other nights, other joys and other pains. Priestess and Truth Teller always had a place on the back porch for friends.

When I was so wounded that I decided all men were scum, Truth Teller's presence offered a safe friend. When I needed to learn to reconnect with men who had honor and love to offer their friends, he was there. When I needed a camera to take to my son's wedding, he had one. When I needed money to care for a puppy, he was there. When I needed to hear what I wanted to deny, he was there.

Tonight I will gather earth from garden. I'll draw a spiral in the earth and I place a lit candle in the center. May Truth Teller follow his path home to the summerlands. May he know we all honor him with perfect love and perfect trust.

So mote it be.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

The Call


We got the call from Priestess last night. The doctors say that barring a miracle, Truth Teller is not expected to leave the hospital. I grieve a remarkable man who had so much wisdom and kindness.

Truth Teller preferred to worship the Holy Motherboard most of his life. I've heard that his faith system has shifted a bit over the last couple of years. Nevertheless, I do not want to superimpose my belief system onto him.

May Truth Teller be remembered for the wisdom he brought not just to my life, but also to the coven where he served as an Elder. May his path to the place where all souls return be blessed, and he blessed us.

Truth Teller, you have often spoken in my dreams. Feel free to visit me even as you leave the material behind.

Monday, June 15, 2009

Dream: The Truth Teller


Truth Teller is one of those difficult people you can’t do without. I have only eaten out with him a few times because he is so picky about what he will eat and where. None of his food can touch. His toys and money belong to him and are kept completely separate and apart from his wife’s toys and money. While he did not begin his pagan path believing in Deity, he does worship the Holy Motherboard. Moreover, any computer will sit, beg or roll over to please him.

When Cameron and I were coming back from my eldest son’s marriage a few years ago, we were victims of trauma. A mother dog and her pups had gotten on the interstate and stopped traffic. I did not know why we were stopped, and inching forward, I hit a pup. Her back paw was broken. Alarmed, we found an emergency vet. Calling Truth Teller for help, he offered to cover up to $400 in vet bills. We had Bronte examined, and made the heart breaking decision to have her put down rather risk thousands in vet bills and future arthritis – the damage was that bad. My heart has never recovered from the loss of my puppy of four hours. I tear just writing about her. Truth Teller knew full well it would be years before we could pay him back.

Cameron and I broke up for an extremely painful six months, during our courtship, while she made decisions regarding her former wife. During that time, chaos happened and I found myself unemployed. That same week, Cameron and I began talking again. We met at Priestess' and Truth Teller's home, talking out the past and possibilities for the future. When Cameron left to tell her wife it was over, because her wife had made some unconscionable decisions, Truth Teller warned me that she might not be back. Such cautions over the years had mostly proved right, especially when I didn’t want to hear him. Indeed, that was the only time he was wrong. Because Truth Teller always spoke what needed saying, rather than I want to hear, he has become an archetype of my dream language. That is why I call him Truth Teller.

I had a dream several years ago in which I was driving on winding roads when I got a flat tire. I dreamed that I called Truth Teller, who came to get me. My car had been overfilled with books, which he helped me to got back to retrieve. Truth Teller had helped me recapture my own inner wisdom.

Today Truth Teller lies in a hospital bed with diabetes taking his life one body part at a time. Most of his fingers are gone. Now they are decided if they are going to remove a gangrene foot.

Last night I dreamed of Truth Teller. Cameron and I could not close a lower dresser drawer. We had tried for weeks, and I was entirely frustrated. Cats were sleeping on my work clothes. At last she mentioned it to Truth Teller, who offered to take a look. I was trying to sleep, but Cameron had put a cat in the bedroom who was crying, so I woke. In the dream, I was dozing in the bed when he came into the room and removed all the clothing, refolded it, and put it back. The drawer worked perfectly. He started to leave when I realized he had been there. Afraid he would get away before I could say anything, I ran through the kitchen and outside. He was driving Priestess’ old car, Mobie. He had started to back out of the driveway, and the headlights of the car caught my figure as I came out the door. I made a hugging motion with my arms and blew him a kiss. Truth Teller pulled back into the driveway and I ran to the car. I could his voice as clear as a bell as I thanked him for fixing the dresser drawer. Truth Teller hugged me and said good bye.

I do not have the gift of prophesy, but this dream is alarming.