Sunday, October 23, 2016

Em's Official Samhain 2016 Guide












Our modern Halloween is derived from the "ancient" Samhain, the Celtic new year.

The past few years I've posted what is a standard Samhain Blessing for me and mine--it might seem a tad early, but again there is no wrong time to look at our blessings. This year I'm adding Through The Veil, which is a brief telling of passing through the veil between worlds that is said to be at its thinnest at Samhain.



A SAMHAIN BLESSING

May the ancestors deliver blessings on you and yours...

May the new year bear great fruits for you...

May your granted wishes be as many as the seeds in a pomegranate...

May the slide into darkness bring you light...

May the memories of what has been keep you strong for what is to be...

May this Samhain cleanse your heart, your soul, and your mind!


BLACK BIRD

No matter how I've tried to shake him off, he still comes after me with the ferocity of a hunting carnivore--not the cunning of a carrion feeder. I close my eyes and I see the black bird, the same black bird who has been with me for all of this life and perhaps in other lives as well. For some reason I wanted to shake the bird but he's only come back thirteen times as powerful.

I realize now that I cannot run from my heritage--from the blood of my ancestors which now flows through me--and that the black bird, the Great Raven, will always seek me out no matter where I am.

My question to myself now is do I want to embrace him as forcefully as I have done before, do I want to have done with him and pursue my new existence, or can I possibly keep the Great Raven in my heart and continue to move forward?

I will ponder with care.

THROUGH THE VEIL

The Veil floats before me, just as it has always done and as I expect it will continue to do. It’s no mystery yet it remains always an enigma, a puzzle to be explored and understood. What can I do but drift towards the Veil, moving without will and pulled without resistance.

There it is, the Veil, and I feel the icy tendrils of Death pierce my flesh and seize my soul. But there is not a touch of fear or of doubt, for I have come into this embrace before. I have experienced death as a revolving door, an unending portal to rebirth and renewal. Living weight drops from me, hesitant as if threatening to escape me completely and leave me beyond the Veil. The pain resounds in me so hot and fierce that it is not what I could normally call pain at all.

And then in an instant, when all seems to have fallen away to leave me for dead, the living energy comes rushing in like a frozen mountain’s stream taking new heart in a Spring thaw. I am reborn and renamed, enabled by a new knowledge and a new strength.

Such I am as I pass back through the Veil into the world like an infant sage, ready to embrace the universe again.

Remember those who have gone before you but who will never be forgotten.  May you all shine on and be well!

And The Universe Went HA!

Sometimes in the evenings, when the neighborhood kids have been slipped their sedatives and gone indoors and the fuzz popping irritation of traffic seems like the crest of a distant nightmare, I go outside to listen to the Universe. Some people might call this God, but I figure by definition Universe pretty much encompasses all the possibilities.Anyway, I listen, and it speaks. Not a voices in my head kind of speaking, but more of a gentle but all-pervasive reminder that my life as a being infused and gifted with a relationship to the Universe is actually what's most important to me.

Occasionally I can hear the Universe laughing at me. This happens when I have blithely ignored sign after sign of trouble ahead, only to learn a lesson the hard and sometimes painful way. You see, the Universe warns me when I'm about to do something especially stupid. The problem is getting my primate brain to recognize the warnings for what they are.

I get especially disquieted when I see that the Universe has saved me from what may have been a disaster, a situation where the signs have been abundantly clear. For instance, I'm writing this from the security of a metaphorical palm that swooped down and carried me out of what could possibly been a mistake at best and a life-bending horror at the worst. This time at least, I'm seeing the signs, and I'm interpreting them in a way I feel is metaphysically correct.

At least in my experience, the Universe doesn't discriminate. Whatever your belief system or non-belief system, the Universe is the Universe, and it will warn you and guide you if you keep open to the signs. And when the Universe suggests something might not be the best of ideas, think about it. Maybe it's not what you want, but it might be what you need.

The Story That Will Not Go Away



This is the story that will not go away.

Now that I’m living in Philadelphia, now that I’ve made myself a fixture of my community, people still are curious about the odyssey that took me to Florida for eight years. Specifically, I get asked time and again about the infamous 2000 presidential election and the part I played in it. I suppose it’s one thing to have read the news and quite another to have lived through the news—to have made the news.

Well, all right then. For everybody who’s wanted to know my version for whatever reason, here it goes. If you don't particularly care for my politics, you might at least appreciate the importance of your vote--and that transcends parties and philosophies.

In 2000 I was living in Saint Cloud, Florida—a little place I affectionately called Cowgirl Helltown (no joke—my neighbors were cows). Saint Cloud is in Osceola County, just south of Orlando, and wasn’t one of the counties of contention in the election. Heck, I think Al Gore swept the county by more than 75%, I’m not sure.

Also at the time I was married to someone about as politically passionate as I was. We’d done a great deal of research on the Green Party, and when we moved from Orlando to Saint Cloud we’d also changed our voter registration from Independent to Green. Now I should point out that we did not own a television. We were hooked up to the Internet to our eyeballs, but otherwise we got our news from the radio and from print media. I should also point out that the Clinton years had been very kind to us.

Now somewhere in the summer of 2000 the idea of “Greens for Gore” took shape and started to gain momentum, especially in the greater Orlando area. Unfortunately the idea was not so much support for Al Gore as it was a desperate attempt to keep #43 out of the White House—he who talked about these great 52 United States and the use of subliminable messages. I mean it was unrestrained panic that the Fortunate Son might carry the election.

Let me mention that I have met Al Gore. It was in June of 1993, when he was Vice President, and I was working at Independence National Historical Park. He did a photo op with the park rangers, and since we all were working for Club Fed, we were presumed safe. I remember two things. He was nowhere nearly as wooden as one might think. I also actually got him to laugh at some joke I don’t remember.

Fast forward to Election Day 2000. We were nervous wrecks. We knew damn well what was on the line. We also knew that Gore wasn’t going into the election with an overwhelming majority. A second Bush presidency was a very real threat, no matter how many months we’d spent trying to wake people up. My husband and I got to our polling place early, gritting our teeth as we stood in line under a cloud of doom. Most of Osceola County had the same idea and the place was packed.

This is where the great joke that was the Florida election system comes into play.

When we’d lived in Tallahassee, the voting booth was automated. Winter Park had actually used computers. Not so Osceola. We were handed actual paper ballots along with a push pin, of all things. All we had to do is make a hole next to the name of the candidate we were selecting. This was my first fit of the day, but this slipshod method wasn’t the fault of the people working the polls, so I tried to let it slide.

Traditionally in an election with write-in spaces, the election committee provides some kind of writing implement (in this case the voting booth was very much like an elementary school desk with afterthought blinders to protect our privacy). I had been planning on quite a few write-ins, so you can imagine how livid I was that nothing had been provided. All right, now I made a big fuss, not just for me but for everybody else. Were we having our freedom to write in candidates taken from us?

The so-called election officials—cronies of somebody or other—didn’t give a damn, but the body of voters in the room and outside heard me and applauded my outburst. Well, applause is nice, but all I really wanted was a damn pencil!

Much later on, after a nerve-wracking day, we heard that #43 was the projected winner. We headed out to hang with the cows and try to come to grips with this disaster in our minds. But when we got home, suddenly the election was in contention, and it was our state that had done it. Having lived through the half-assed attempt at polling that we had that morning, it was no surprise.

We all know what happened then, so I won’t belabor the painful. But here are some quips from the time I found both amusing and disturbing.

"THOSE WHO CAST THE VOTES DECIDE NOTHING. THOSE WHO COUNT
THE VOTES DECIDE EVERYTHING." -- JOSEPH STALIN

DON'T BLAME ME - I VOTED FOR GORE... I THINK

MY PARENTS RETIRED TO FLORIDA AND ALL I GOT WAS THIS LOUSY PRESIDENT

DISNEY GAVE US MICKEY, FLORIDA GAVE US DUMBO

DON'T THROW AWAY YOUR VOTE... LET KATHERINE HARRIS DO IT FOR YOU

BUSH TRUSTS THE PEOPLE, BUT NOT IF IT INVOLVES COUNTING

TO YOU I'M A DRUNK DRIVER; TO MY FRIENDS, I'M PRESIDENTIAL MATERIAL!

ONE PERSON, ONE VOTE (MAY NOT APPLY IN CERTAIN STATES)

I DIDN'T VOTE FOR HIS DADDY EITHER

IT AIN'T OVER 'TIL YOUR BROTHER COUNTS THE VOTES

BANANA REPUBLICANS

GEORGE W. BUSH: THE PRESIDENT QUAYLE WE NEVER HAD

THE LAST TIME SOMEBODY LISTENED TO A BUSH, FOLKS WANDERED IN THE DESERT FOR 40 YEARS

CAMPAIGN SPENDING: $184,000,000. HAVING YOUR LITTLE BROTHER RIG THE ELECTION FOR YOU: PRICELESS

I ask you...this year, for this election, please take your civic duty seriously. Read up on the candidates and get your questions answered to your satisfaction. Don't leave your voice be unheard and your vote left in the hands of others.

What Is Brujeria?

Like so much else in the brujo world, I have had not one "name" but several. At one time you would have found me going by Mayahuel, after an Aztec (Méxica) goddess whom I will introduce you to shortly.

In mixed company I'm sometimes just referred to as La Bruja. My friends in Mexico have called me Coyote, the slang term for, oh, someone who gets people and things back and forth across the border after dark, so to speak. This has expanded into Cihuacoyotl, or Coyote Woman in Nahuatl.

But today, in my home temple, mostly I am called Juana Bruja, which is both joking and serious. The "Juana" part is the Spanish version of one of my given birth names. The two together are intended to give an impression such as that as "Jane Doe".

One gem, many facets. That is Brujeria, at least as I know it.

To learn first-hand for yourself about Brujeria, you may want to see if there are any shops called "botanicas" in your area. The next step is to actually go there and start talking with the people running the shop. I'm part owner of a small neighborhood botanica, and the botanica is a great starting point, one that I know actually exists in many areas.

There are few books available on Brujeria. I don't mean bad Spanish translations that immediately convert "Wicca" or "Witchcraft" into "Brujeria"; I know those exist and may be dismally misleading. In the beginning I learned one of the guiding principles of Brujeria was its secrecy, was the fact that it is passed from brujo to brujo. Well, this would explain the lack of material on the subject, but I kept looking anyway.

If you manage to come across a book in Spanish and you have a fairly decent comprehension of written Spanish, the number of books on Brujeria expands. You may also find some good and helpful information too. All right, enough talk about books!

Let's dispense with the silliness right from the start, shall we? No, I'm not obsessed with Carlos Casteneda's works, nor am I something out of Vampire The Masquerade (besides, the Brujah Clan--note that's Brujah and not bruja--doesn't seem to have much to do with Mesoamerican mysticism).

I'm not a fortune teller, either, even if I'm well-known for reading tea leaves. It seems to me that self-proclaimed psychics are a nickel a dozen, and besides, anybody who wants to know their future is, in my opinion, a great fool.

Brujeria is a broad path embracing virtually hundreds of traditions of the Americas--there is no right or wrong way, but many ways.

Brujeria is NOT Wicca and a brujo/bruja is not a Wiccan. We are not Druids or Thelemites or Streghe or the Golden Dawn or (insert your favorite group here). We are what we are, even if what we are is complex.

So what is a brujo/bruja? With the help of Felipe, who is the spots on my jaguar from Sonora,Mexico (but now living rather close by), I think I've finally hit upon an explanation most people can understand.

That explanation begins, of all places, in Siberiawith the Russian/Tungus word saman. The saman was an individual using magic to cure the sick, divine the hidden, and control events. This practice, usually referred to in American English as Shamanism, is worldwide.

Taking a step back from Brujeria to examine the two practices brought me to conclude that they are essentially the same thing, with a few differences according to culture. If that's the case, when I say I am a bruja, I am also saying I am a shaman. But remember that Shamanism is as varied as the world itself, so if you don't agree with my conclusions, please investigate the shaman on your own and see what you discover.

How I got here is not as important as the fact that I am here. There are no levels or hierarchy in Brujeria as I have learned it. A person is either a born brujo or not. Brujeria is a vocation in the true sense of the word--a calling, a summons. Don't get me wrong--I don't mean to make it sound exclusive, because it isn't. But without the calling, there is no Brujeria, and therefore no brujo. That's how it is.

Many people ask me what Brujeria is, what is a brujo/bruja. This is a difficult question to answer. Technically, the word "brujeria" is Spanish for witchcraft, sorcery, and magical doings. A lot of this carries over into the practice of Brujeria, but Brujeria is more. In brief, I see Brujeria as an ongoing dance with the vital spirit of theAmericas and my role as a bruja as a conduit for the living energy of the universe.

Arguably, today's Brujeria is the continuing magical spiritual path of Mesoamerica (Mexico) which dates back 12,000 years. Brujeria is not a revival of ancient traditions, for those traditions never died out in the first place.

That is to say, to be a bruja is to answer the calling of the Great Mother of the New World.

As you have probably guessed, Spanish is the lingua franca of Brujeria. Many brujos speak nothing else; many brujos speak no Spanish but "brujo/a" and "Brujeria". In my case, I'm using various Mexican dialects (and if you know anything about Mexican Spanish, you know how many variations there are) while learning Nahuatl, the language of the Nahua who are the modern descendants of the Aztecs.

In all truth, it doesn't matter what language you use--the energy is the same. However, Brujeria is also a community, and that community tends to speak Spanish of one streak or another. But I have noticed that more and more English speakers are joining the dance either through friends or the influence of lovers.

My own band of brujos, the Temple of the Jaguar, has come up with a list of guidelines which we simply call the Code (El Código Brujo). Here I offer a translation from the original Spanish into English. You will need to draw your own conclusions, because if it isn't said it's probably not intended to be public knowledge.

1) The universe is a living thing (which is an idea brought into modern Brujeria from Aztec cosmology), and Brujeria is a method of interacting with the living energy of the universe.

2) A brujo/bruja practices what could be termed magic by attuning himself/herself to this living energy.

This living energy can seize a brujo/bruja at any time, or through the concentrated work of an impromptu and inspired ritual.

3) An individual enters Brujeria through a personal encounter with the living energy.

4) Once a brujo, always a brujo. It is something that cannot be shaken off, something like genetic makeup.

5) Brujos/brujas are born and cannot be made, even if they do not come to realize their place in Brujeria until much later in life.

(From this point, I will be using the masculine brujo/brujos when referring to practioners of Brujeria of either sex.)

6) A brujo has no ethical laws or limits to restrict his magic. However, he must also assume complete responsibility for his actions and be willing to submit to the consequences.

7) "A dead brujo is more powerful and more dangerous than a living brujo." What exactly this means is up for interpretation.

8) As Mexican Presidente Beinito Juarez said, "Respect for the rights of others is peace."

9) Brujos are free to use their abilities for non-brujos. Example situations are healing, spiritual counselling, and the creation of hechizos ("spellwork").

10) Brujeria is a community bound together by the living energy of the universe, and all brujos are brothers and sisters. A brujo is pledged to assist a fellow brujo wherever and whenever needed.

11) Some of what makes Brujeria can be revealed to non-brujos but most of Brujeria must remain between brujos alone.

12) Brujeria is learned from brujo to brujo, and through interaction with the living energy.

13) Techincally speaking, Brujeria is a Pagan path, although the brujos seem to have little to do with what has become the better-known "Pagan Community" (or said community doesn't wish to embrace the brujos).

Based upon my own experiences, I contend that this split exists because of Brujeria's apparent lax ethical values (which is just a misunderstanding of taking responsibility for one's own actions), Brujeria's acceptance of the whole magical spectrum as opposed to being good/"White Light"/positive only, or most likely both. In other words, nobody's bothered to look into us much, hence we seem to be as frightening to the "Pagan Community" as they (appear to) seem to want to placate more mainstream religious groups. And once again I ask how these people can scream and rant to be tolerated by the non-Pagan world and yet be intolerant of a kindred Pagan path such as Brujeria. Be tolerated but not be tolerant in return? There's certainly a real lack of harmony there.

This is what I can tell you. No, I won't be cursed for revealing secrets or anything like that. Brujeria remains an oral path, communicated from brujo to brujo through speech, touch, taste, sensation, and experience. Our "spellwork" (if you insist on calling it such) is spontaneous and intuitive. Brujeria really is a living path, one that cannot be captured by the written word.

Tuesday, October 18, 2016

Symbols of Quaker Mysticism

Papyrus - Progress and enlightenment
Leaves - Unity
Water Lily - Spiritual evolution
Pears and Leaves - Comfort
Ivy - Friendship
Tree of Life - Long life, health, happiness
Banana Plant - Renewal of life
Ferns - Warmth and cordiality
Fuchsia - Compassion
Lotus - Unfolding of knowledge
Palm - Victory and eternal peace
Japanese Primrose - Wisdom

Random Crap

Here's some random stuff of the moment.

If you could come back as a dress, which one would it be?

Something either deathy and gothic or poppy red.

What is your favorite color?

Purple, violet, amethyst…you get the picture.

What is your favorite junk food?
Kettle chips.

What are you most vain about?

Nothing. I’m not vain even where I should be.

What are you most shy about?

Everything. How’s everything for an answer?

If you could have somebody else’s body, whose would it be?

Do you mean I would exist in said body or that the body would be mine to play with as I please?

If you could have somebody else’s breasts, whose would they be?

Uck.

Who are your fantasy dinner party guests?

There are so many. But assuming I am the hostess of a dinner party for twelve, I would select Coco Chanel, Charlemagne, Eleanor Roosevelt, Richard Feynman (physicist), Mary Robinson (former president of Ireland), Kurt Vonnegut, Sally Ride, John Young (also an accomplished astronaut), Zsuszanna Budapest (womens’ rights activist), His Holliness the Dalai Lama, Gloria Steinem, and Carl Sagan.

Where is your favorite place to have a drink?

Drink?  What am I--normal?

Whose wallet would you like to steal?

I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.

Whose diary would you most like to read?

Hilary Rodham Clinton’s.

What’s your least favorite food?

Tomatoes, mayonnaise, and organ meat .

If you were an inventor, what would you invent?

I’d invent something that would do all of my dressing and grooming for me.

What is your favorite car?

My long-gone garnet '91 Pontiac Sunbird.

When and where are you happiest?

I’m happiest in those wonderful moments at night when I’m relaxing in a scented bath with the day behind me and the comfort of sleep awaiting me.

What or who is your worst enemy?

I am my own worst enemy along with my evil sidekick Doubt.

What piece of art would you most like to own?

“Mary Magdalene” by Gustav Adolf Mossa.

Where is your favorite vacation spot?

These days, it's my garden in my backyard.

What is your most treasured possession?

I have the fang of a rattlesnake my shaman mentor gave to me as a rite of passage.

Who is your favorite fictional character?

Myself.

If you weren’t a writer, what would you be?

A mortician, an aerialist, a lawyer…who knows?

What current trend would you like to see disappear?

I want to see anything extolling extreme thinness as some kind of virtue disappear.

Always…?

Always remember things can always get worse.

Never…?

Never doubt that things can get better.

My Grandfather's Legacy (1920-2003)

There is no greater gift than a gift that shapes the good character of a child. My grandfather was most generous in his giving and with his gifts.

If I know honesty, it’s because he showed me the value of the truth and of being forthright.

If I know tenacity, it’s because I watched him begin so many projects and never quitting until the task at hand was done.

If I know craftsmanship, it’s because he was able to bring his creations from a blueprint in his mind into a tangible reality.

If I know stability, it’s because he never left me down, never left me alone, and never left me feeling friendless.

If I know loyalty, it’s because he always put his family ahead of anything else.

If I know unselfishness, it’s because he taught me to be open-handed.

If I know love, it’s because he encouraged me to bloom.

Take the gifts. Cherish them. Share them.

Saturday, October 15, 2016

Engaging Hurrican

This brief ritual of offering and of respect is here described as it would be done under ideal circumstances. Working under the threat of an impending hurricane is not ideal, so feel free to improvise and change as suits you best. The real power in this ritual is your intent.

Set up an altar anywhere you can—desks, tables, the floor, anywhere flat.

You will need a large bowl (or whatever you have on hand).

For the offering, you may use fruits, vegetables, coins, jewelry, or similar objects. Rum would be traditional and appropriate, but any kind of sugary drink is an adequate representative. These are to be placed with reverence into the bowl.

If possible, have two lit candles on either side of the bowl. Any kind of candle will do.

When you have assembled the altar, take a few moments to ground and center. Think on what you are about to do and what you hope will be the result.

Recite the following invocation aloud or to yourself.

The Caribe knew better than we
They knew this was more than rain and wind
The saw the power, and they called the power Hurrican
Now, Hurrican, we call to you again
We profess our weakness in the face of your might
Take of this simple offering as a gesture of our respect
Hurrican, you are with us and we are within you
Show your great power, but favor us
Amaze us with your face of pounding surf and driving rain
But we are only human, and as humans, keep us safe
This we ask as humble spirits before divine power
Hurrican, maintain us

Witch Emmie’s Hurrican Charm

You may be able to cobble this together from things you have lying around your home.

Use blue fabric if at all possible.

In the center of the fabric, place any or all of the following: allspice, cloves, nutmeg (Caribbean spices) , a pinch of salt, a silver-colored coin, and a small stone you have found somewhere on your property.

Bring together the corners of the fabric around the ingredients and then tie the bundle with some string.

Keep this charm on you for the duration of the storm.

May you and yours be blessed!

The Famous Are People Too

Is there some celebrity/star/famous person you’re wanting to shout a friendly hello to, even though you realize the chances of this person ever reading what you say are as good as fan mail getting past an agent? I have a method, and it’s worked for me many times. I warn you that it will require time and effort on your part, not to mention a genuine fondness for this person’s work. But to a true fan, it’s worth the effort. You can be e-mail pals with your idol, your crush—how cool is that?

You start by creating a website for yourself. Any one of the free website services is fine if you don’t have the time or money to devote to a web server. A full site with details and interesting features is the best choice, but it’s not the right choice for everyone. A single page can do just as well. You can make it about yourself, but it’s better to discuss your interests, your hometown, your passions—make yourself fully dimensional.

For example, my first (and successful!) attempt came from my first website, Ceridwyn’s Cauldron, in 1996, which was basically about creativity and inspiration. I found an individual I’d been following since high school, and found that he too was building a personal website. So I thought to myself hey, this guy has been my inspiration. Inspiration was the common point of contact.

Great, so what next? At the time, the first generation of webmasters created and shared various “awards” with each other for excellence in features like easy navigation, content, graphics, educational value, and so much more. We were lifting each other through the dawn of this digital age. As my website was about inspiration and my famous person WAS my inspiration, I created the “Ceridwyn’s Cauldron Inspiration Award for Reaching Out to Fans Online” complete with award graphic and explanation of why this website had gotten the nod. I thought, well, no harm, no foul.

Almost 20 years later I’m still e-mail/chat buddies with this person, who was so thrilled that someone…ANYONE…had recognized what he was trying to do that he had immediately written me back to thank me. And our friendship grew out of that.

What does this mean for you? Follow these steps:

Create a personal website. It does not necessarily have to be a fan site.

Think about what you really admire about this person. Hot bods are not the best choice. Go for something deeper, more meaningful.

Create an award based on your website. It doesn’t have to be anything complex, although the more effort you put in, the more likely you’ll get results.

Find out how to contact this person online. This is the hard part, since there are often so many e-mail addresses are floating around with no hint as to what might actually work. Hit them all, if you want. Sooner or later someone might be kind enough to point you in the right direction.

Were you nice? Polite? In adequate fandom? Hit send and wait for the fun!

Now let’s be clear I’m making no promises. I’m just sharing what’s worked for me. If you give it a try, it might work for you. And maybe you’ll be talking about how you made friends with the famous through online communication. Good luck!