Booklist for 'Interesting Times'

Remember that apocryphal Chinese curse, "May you live in interesting times"? Well we certainly seem to be living in interesting times at the moment.

In such times, we all need a source of comfort. Some of us take comfort in music, or by spending time in nature. Some of us comfort eat - yes I am prone to this but trying to resist the urge to bury myself in a trough of pasta. Some dance, or go for a run, or snuggle up with a pet or a plush toy.

I could be persuaded to try any of the above, but I've been realising recently that one of my preferred sources of comfort is books. When T and I moved to Australia for 18 months (due to his job), he was horrified by the fact that I felt it necessary to bring a box of books with me. I was equally horrified by the idea of leaving them behind (there were numerous crates of books which were left behind, the ones I brought with us were the ones it was unthinkable to be separated from).

The photo above shows my current book pile, and I think it's quite telling. 'Truth or Dare' and 'The Fifth Sacred Thing' both by Starhawk are old, well-thumbed favourites. 'Truth or Dare' is an illuminating study of power structures and full of helpful strategies to move from a model of 'power over' to one of 'power from within' and 'power with'. 'The Fifth Sacred Thing' is a novel examining the culture clash between a dystopian and a utopian society. It provides such an alluring vision of the reality we could have I find it a great source of inspiration and comfort. This of all these books is the one I'm clinging to like a security blanket, and not only reading but also listening to on Audiobook when I'm driving.

Joanna Powell Colbert's 'Journey Through the Gaian Tarot' is there because in times of stress I not only read  but also hit the Tarot cards. The Gaian Tarot is hands down my favourite deck and my go-to whenever I need to read for myself. Apparently there's a new edition of it being published in April - I'm pretty sure I'm going to order one as a back up deck because I love it so much.

Michael Hughes' 'Magic for the Resistance' and Laura Tempest Zakroff's 'The New Aradia, a Witch's Handbook to Magical Resistance' are both excellent guides to -well, magical resistance.

Finally, Rebecca Solnit's wonderful 'Hope in the Dark' is another old favourite telling of all the many victories and steps of progress that we've already made and reminding us that we can always do things differently, better and that there are so many reasons to have hope. And of course, hope is so, so necessary. 

What is your favourite form of comfort in 'interesting times'? And do you have any 'security blanket' book recommendations? I'd love to hear them.

 v

Well, I Grew A Lot Of Carrots: The Fever Dream Year

In Wales lockdown measures have recently been relaxed, so that we are now easing back into some kind of semi-normality. On Monday 12th April I returned to work for the first time since just before Christmas 2020 when it was announced that all non-essential retail in Wales would close. I vividly remember returning home from work on December 19th after a long hard day and hearing the news literally as I pulled into the driveway. At the time I imagined I'd be resuming work some time in mid-January, yet it has taken until now, mid-April for that to happen. 

Being back at work this week has been a strange mixture of the familiar and the strange. The environment and the work is well-known and yet there's an odd sense of unreality that I don't recall feeling on my return to work after the first lockdown last spring.

I suspect I'm not alone in feeling this sense of confusion and dislocation. The long months suspended from our normal routines have been followed by a supposed return to normality which is anything but normal. I may be back working one of the  several part time jobs I had before the first lockdown, but most of my other jobs have fallen casualty to the pandemic for one reason or another and ceased. I may be back in familiar surroundings fulfilling a familiar role, but I am doing it while wearing a mask and observing social distancing, and I still can't hug a workmate, invite friends into my home, or teach a workshop. Looking back, so much and so little has happened.   

Seeing (separately) two friends for the first time in months this week highlighted this strangeness for me. It was lovely to see them and reconnect after being separated from them for such a long time. And yet I found myself floundering when they both asked me the simple question, 'So how have you been?'

How have I been? What have I been doing during the long months of lockdown? What has life been like, what has changed, where will life go from here?

All the answers that I could give are too deep or too shallow. How can I convey the spikes of fear and the blur of boredom; the endless anxiety about my elderly parents and my friend with COPD; the unaccustomed luxury of time to sleep in late and garden and cook and write and immerse myself in a good book; the stupefying lack of focus; the slow accretion of outstanding tasks which keep me awake at night, while I instantly forget the goals reached and accomplishments achieved during the same time frame?

When one friend asked me 'What have you been up to?' I found myself giving the slightly surreal, completely inadequate and not even wholly accurate response, 'Well, I grew a lot of carrots,'. At the time it was all my mind could pluck from the nebulous swirl of 'my life during lockdown'.

Looking back over the last year, it all seems rather like a fever dream - simultaneously vivid and vague, surreal, epic, confusing and impossible to convey precisely. Which is all quite understandable. We have all - the entire world - undergone a dislocation from our normal lives, experienced a trauma. Everyone experiences upheavals in life, times of pain and fear and loss, but we don't usually all experience them simultaneously so that the whole world is jolted from its tracks. And this trauma has not been a single short-lived shock, but a long, drawn-out upheaval which has left people exhausted.

And yet... I wonder what will come from this in the long run? I am hopeful that we as a species will move forward from this having learned some useful lessons, and thinking hard about what it is we want to 'go back to'. 

Some years ago at a Witchcamp, I took part in an elaborate life/death/rebirth ritual in which people were guided through a series of gateways, each representing an aspect of their lives such as their name(s), possessions, achievements, friends/family/loved ones etc. At each gateway they were instructed to leave every one of these things behind. It was a gradual stripping away of every part of identity and self. At the final gateway they were greeted by a priestess aspecting the Goddess, who blew out the tealight they carried (symbolising their life force). They were then given as much time as they needed to bathe in Her Cauldron of Rebirth (a hot tub!) while meditating on what they had left behind, what they wanted to retrieve - and what they wanted to leave behind. It was a gruelling process for most people, but deeply informative and transformative. So much of what we carry with us through life we carry through habit, or because we've been told by others we must carry it. Stripping everything away and consciously choosing to recover only those things of value is immensely freeing. When each person was ready, they left the hot tub and were given a new tealight symbolising their rebirth. They retraced their steps through each gate, picking back up the things they wished to carry into their new lives - but crucially, leaving behind those which they had decided they no longer wished to carry. So, for example I have been known by many names in my life - Susan, Moonroot, Moonie, Susie, Wallis, daughter, sister, wife, witch, aromatherapist etc. But I have also been called ginger, fat, stupid, ugly, bitch etc. Some of these names have come from other people - and some I have called myself. When I strip away these names and identities and leave them at the gate, on my return I can choose which names I wish to carry - and those I am happy to leave in the dust.

This pandemic has stripped our normal lives away from us. When we return through each gate, I hope that we will think very carefully about what it is that we wish to pick back up. My 'normal' life before all this began was actually pretty dysfunctional in many ways. Post-divorce, job insecurity and fear of poverty had led to me working 6-7 day weeks. I was permanently exhausted, short-tempered and ill, but I couldn't seem to get off that hamster wheel. Every time I was offered more work I said yes, because I was always short of money and afraid that the work I did have would dry up, leaving me penniless. Being forced to slow down and stop made me realise how joyless life had become. During months of lockdown I have started to read books again, cook from scratch again, grow vegetables again, observe the Wheel of the Year again. I have finally learned how to properly use the camera I bought several years ago and have taken reams of photographs. I have had time for the long, deep conversations that feed my soul. I have written more in the last year than I have managed in the previous three or four years. I have had time to sit and drink in the beauty surrounding me. And most importantly I have had time to reassess the way I've been leading my life and come to some important decisions about what I want to change about that. 

Much of my 'normal' life was in direct contradiction to my values and beliefs. I was buying pre-packaged convenience foods because I was too damned tired to cook. I was driving miles and miles between my scattered jobs, eating junk food on the hoof. I was too tired to have much of a social life and short-tempered with my loved ones. My house was a mess. Every so often I would manage a holiday or have an enforced break caused by illness and I would resolve to do better - but immediately fall back into my old ways. My mantra seemed to always be, 'next month, when things are less busy...', but next month never was less busy, and so it went on.

All of that has been taken away from me. I have lost three of my part time jobs and of the remaining three, restrictions mean I am only able to work at one of them at the moment. When I am able to resume all three, that will be enough. I am determined to find a way to manage financially without damaging my physical and mental health further and working myself into an early grave. My petrol consumption has plummeted. I have been gradually sorting out the house and making my environment a pleasant one. I have stopped shopping at big supermarkets and now buy most of my groceries from a small local zero-waste shop. Guess what? Their prices may be higher than the supermarket, but because I am only buying what I need and not getting sucked in by special offers and convenience foods I have actually cut our food bills and food waste. I have been growing our own vegetables and cooking proper meals - I make my own hummus and veggie burgers and bread from scratch. What I have realised is that staying on the hamster wheel required me to spend more money than it brought in. My life is now more manageable, less expensive, less wasteful, greener and infinitely more satisfying.

The other great lesson I hope we can learn from the pandemic is that we are all in this together, and working collaboratively for the good of the whole is the best and fairest way to run the world. Look at the awe-inspiring collective effort that has brought us effective vaccines in the space of a year! We humans are at our most marvellous when we co-operate rather than compete.

I believe the sense of unreality I am feeling is the world re-making itself in a new and hopefully better way. We have all had much of our lives stripped away over the last year, and spent time immersed in the Cauldron of Rebirth swirling in a fever dream of possibility. Now as we prepare to leave the Cauldron and re-enter the world, let's consider very carefully the kind of 'normality' we wish to return to. What will you pick back up? What will you choose to leave behind? The great blessing of every period of difficulty in our lives is the lessons we learn from it, and the chance we are given to grow. Let's seize this unprecedented opportunity we've been given with enthusiasm and build a better 'normal'. The old world wasn't working anyway, why go back to it?

           

     

Slowly Re-awakening

I intended to take a little break from posting once I finished my 'Winter Blessings and Beauties' experiment of posting every day throughout Winter, but I didn't mean to let quite so much time pass between posts! Nevertheless, even if I haven't been writing here about it, I have been diligently looking for signs of spring every day. Of course, the weather Gods decided to throw a sizeable spanner in the works by sending us snow, ice, gales and floods during the last month. But though spring may not manifest as quickly as I might hope, the Wheel of the Year is moving inexorably on, and Spring is undoubtedly underway. 

Here, snowdrops, primroses and daffodils are suddenly everywhere. On bright days, previously unnoticed celandines open their golden petals in wide, joyous reflection of the sun.    

Yesterday, sitting on my bench overlooking the valley and listening to the drumming of a woodpecker somewhere in the trees, I suddenly spotted the first new leaves of the season, glowing translucent gold in the sun. They were on an elder tree in a sheltered spot, and of course I had to immediately make my way down the hill to admire them up close.

 

From there I spotted gorse in full, brilliant bloom, which was attracting early insects to feast on its delicately fragranced flowers.

At the edge of the veggie patch there are crocuses glowing like jewels where I planted them many years ago. I'm so glad I did! Every glimpse of them gladdens my heart.

In a sheltered spot in the village there are pussy willow catkins in abundance. Here, further up the hill where we are more exposed to the elements there are only hazel catkins so far, dancing like lambs' tails in the breeze.

They are the male flowers of the hazel of course. Much harder to spot are the female hazel flowers which look like tiny crimson sea-anemones. In autumn, if they are fertilised by the pollen from the catkins each one will become a hazel nut. 

Yes, already I am looking forward to the year ahead, even though I have only just begun sowing seeds and my potatoes are still chitting on the windowsill. That is one of the wonderful things about following the changing seasons, the rhythms and cycles of the Earth. Always changing, always the same they give a pattern to our lives that is both dynamic and reassuring. That is a great gift in these strange times. 

Winter Blessings and Beauties, Day 94: Imbolc

After journeying through the Winter together, we find ourselves at Imbolc! Imbolc is seen as the first day of Spring. Although it's still cold and grey outside, by this time of year the days are noticeably longer than at Yule, the first bulbs are beginning to flower, the birds are beginning to choose their mates and their nesting sites. Here in Wales the first lambs appear in the fields, drifts of snowdrops appear along the hedgerows and the ravens wheel overhead in spectacular aerial courtship dances.

Imbolc is thought to derive from the Irish 'i mbolc' meaning 'in the belly' - referring to the soon-to-be-born lambs in the bellies of pregnant ewes. It is a time of promise, as the Wheel turns from Winter to Spring and the green world gradually reawakens.

Winter Blessings and Beauties: Day 94

Imbolc

As we find ourselves at Imbolc, let's look back and give thanks to the Winter for all its Blessings and Beauties, for all we have learned and experienced, created and enjoyed over the last three months. 

And let's look forward to the season of Spring which lies ahead of us, with all its Blessings and Beauties yet to unfold.

May we look back with gratitude to the Winter gone, and forward with hope and a sense of adventure to the Spring to come. 

Blessed Be.     

 

Winter Blessings and Beauties, Day 90: Winter Retrospective and Winter's End Ritual

As we near the end of Winter, it's a good time to pause and review the last few months - and this project, intended to encourage a positive experience of the season. 

Winter Blessings and Beauties: Day 90

Winter Retrospective

I suggest you take a few days to go through this process of looking back (and forward) to examine your experience of Winter in sufficient depth before you move onto the Winter's End Ritual.

Cast your mind back in time to the beginning of November. Samhain had just been and gone, and the whole Winter lay ahead of us. How were you feeling then? If you've been following this project, perhaps look back to the very first post to help stir your memories of how you were feeling then, mentally, physically, emotionally. What did the prospect of Winter seem like then? What were you anxious about? What were your hopes? What were you looking forward to?

Scrolling forward through the Winter Blessings and Beauties posts - and/or your journal - how did Winter unfold for you? Did it go as you expected? What surprised you? What disappointed you? What delighted you? What did you discover? 

Winter's End Ritual

After working through the Winter Retrospective exercise thoroughly, move onto the Winter's End Ritual.

Looking back, at the end of this Winter what will you be leaving behind? Write a list of those things you wish to leave behind in Winter 2020/21, and burn it or add it to your compost heap to be transformed. 

As the door between Winter and Spring swings open, what will you choose to carry forward? Make a list in your journal of all the Winter blessings and lessons for which you're grateful and carry them forward with you. 

What do you hope Spring be bringing in for you? On a fresh sheet of paper, make a list of your hopes, dreams and plans for Spring 2021. Put it somewhere you will be able to see it every day, and make sure to check in regularly to monitor your progress and keep yourself on track.

Blessed Be. 

Winter Blessings and Beauties, Day 75: Snowdrops

Today I spotted the first snowdrop flowers that I've seen this year. It was only a small patch and the bells hadn't yet opened properly, but soon there will be swathes of their white flowers everywhere. Each year the snowdrops are one of the first sights signalling the change from Winter to Spring. The white drifts at the base of the hedgerows that once were snow transform imperceivably into flowers - it's a kind of magic. And when the pioneering snowdrops have bravely blazed a trail, other flowers - pussy willows and primroses, daffodils and celandines - will follow.

As Snowdrops herald the very beginning of spring, they have become a symbol of hope for better times ahead. As they usually bloom towards the end of January/beginning of February they're associated with Imbolc - and also its Christian counterpart Candlemas, which earned them the alternative name of Candlemas Bells. Other lovely old names for them include Dewdrops, Eve's Tear, February Fair-maids, Snowpiercer, White Bells and Mary's Tapers.

In the Language of Flowers Snowdrops symbolise chastity, consolation, hope and purity. A German legend tells that God asked the flowers of Earth to give colours to the snow. The flowers all refused, but the Snowdrop gladly offered the snow its colour. In return, the snowdrop got to bloom before the other flowers.    

Snowdrops aren't native to the British Isles. They were introduced from the Caucasus mountains by Italian monks in the 15^th or 16^th Century, later escaping into the wild where they have become naturalised. Growing to about 7-15cm tall, the bell-shaped flowers hang down to protect the pollen from harsh winter rains. As they flower so early, snowdrops don't rely on pollinators to reproduce, spreading instead via bulb division. However, they're visited by bees and other insects on particularly warm days, so in favourable conditions they can produce seed.

Winter Blessings and Beauties: Day 75

Snowdrops

Have you spotted any snowdrops flowering yet? Or are there other signs of spring where you live? Here daffodil leaves are pushing up from the soil and tiny catkins can be seen on the twigs of the hazel. 

Winter Blessings and Beauties, Day 62: New Year's Day

 

Today a whole New Year lies ahead of us, as clean and unmarked as a fresh fall of snow.  

Winter Blessings and Beauties: Day 61

New Year's Day

A day to look ahead. To imagine possibilities. To make plans. 

What are your hopes for the coming months? It may help to journal about them, to refine your ideas and perhaps begin thinking about the concrete steps you could take to bring them to fruition. If you have a favourite method of divination, you could do a reading for yourself asking about the year ahead. 

Happy New Year!    

Suddenly September

And so here we are in September. 

There is a chill in the morning air. Days are noticeably shorter. Apples hang plumply from the tree and rosehips glow in the hedge. The sycamore leaves are beginning to brown. Yet the sun is still warm and the swallows still dance in the sky. Summer is drawing to a close, but gently.

How did we get here so quickly? Time has been a strange companion these last months. Though life in lockdown was slow and peaceful, still the months seem to have slid past quickly and already we are three quarters of the way through 2020. It's been such a strange year, the fact that we're entering its last stages will no doubt please many. Yet I suspect the strangeness will not evaporate on 31st December. Strange is the new normal as our expectations and priorities and beliefs about our lives are upended and re-examined and we learn to navigate the new reality in which we find ourselves. It's disturbing and often hard and painful. Isn't that always true of change? And yet... at times I find myself relishing the challenge. I think we could build something new and wonderful from the wreckage. Throw out what no longer serves, question the status quo, refuse to go back to the system that has created so much injustice and inequality. 

On this first day of a new month, one which sees the beginning of the new academic year, let's pause to think about the opportunities to learn that are there for us all. What has been stripped away? What essentials remain? What do we need to let go of? What do we need to bring in? What do we want to create? Where do we want to be this time next year?

Let's seize the initiative. Let's create the lives we truly want, not the lives they've tried to tell us we want. I don't want to be part of a system that keeps most of the world in poverty while a handful of billionaires call the shots. I don't want things, I want connection and meaning. I don't want to keep running on the hamster wheel, I want to spend time with people I love doing things that make the world a better place. 

When they urge you to 'get back to normal' so that they can get the system up and running again, refuse. Withdraw your support for a system that is only there to benefit the few. Dream a better future - then create it. Let's work together, for the good of all.

The 'C' Word, Part 5: Some Closing Thoughts on Closure

It's a brilliantly bright, sunny yet frozen morning as I step outside to tend to the chickens and Spike the gander. Fiercely blue skies over a landscape dusted sparkling white by frost. I tend to the animals and gather kindling for the fire, thinking about the coming end of the year.

I've never been a great one for New Year celebrations - parties and fireworks and Auld Lang Syne - yet in the last few years I have become very focussed on doing magic around the ending of the year. Cleaning away the old and outmoded both literally and metaphorically, and tying up loose ends, as in my Clean Start Soap Spell, making space. And then with clear intent, concentrating on what I need to draw into my life at this point in time, this new start. Somewhere in between these two I shall also be counting the many blessings that have come my way in the last twelve months, going through my Jar of Blessings and giving thanks for all those moments of joy and serendipity. I think it's important to keep a sense of balance about the good and the bad. Take an unflinching look at the bad so that you can do something about it - but acknowledge and give thanks for the good stuff too!

Of course the end of the year is just one end point of many. I could just as easily choose to do this kind of magic on my birthday, or at Imbolc, or Samhain or even monthly, at every moon cycle. Yet for me the end of year works very well - perhaps because the group mind is focussed on the end/beginning motif at this time, or perhaps the Yule/Christmas/New Year festivities give a bit of breathing space away from the normal routine of things and allow me time to mull over what needs to be mulled!

As I mentioned in an earlier post, this year seems to have been all about endings, or at least coming to terms with all kinds of different issues. Looking back, things this year have brought me face to face with issues encompassing all areas of my life - home/environment (new bathroom, new porch, decorating), health (torn ligament in my shoulder), family, friends and loved ones (wedding, birthday party and the ensuing fall out from that), and my spiritual community (Dragonrise Witchcamp).

Whilst trying to make sense of all this, I found out that it has coincided with my Chiron Return, which happens for us all around the age of fifty, when the mini-planet Chiron (named for the Greek God of Healing) returns to its original position in our birthchart and forces us to take stock and address those areas of our lives which need healing. This may sound a bit crazy, but having experienced a similar - and far more emotionally jarring - period of upheaval and chaos during my Saturn return in my late 20's it makes sense to me!

Interestingly when writing about all this in my journal I found myself exactly halfway through the notebook. More symbolism, more synchronicity. I am paying attention Mutiverse! I am really trying to get it and do the work I need to do.

This morning what occurred to me is that there is no real closure - or at least, finding some kind of closure doesn't magically wrap everything up neatly and put it away once and for all. It's more about coming to peace with what you need to, reconciling  yourself with what is, instead of what you would like it to be. All of these issues and experiences and difficulties have contributed to where and how and who I am today. They don't ever actually resolve themselves and disappear into a cloud of sparkly pink smoke and 'poof!' everything is magically sunshine and roses. No, reaching closure is about accepting and integrating those experiences and their lessons. They stay with you, as they should. They are a valuable part of you, and you are now at peace with them.

Perhaps this year has been as much about Healing as Closure. Which ever is the correct word - and perhaps they both are - I am grateful for the experience, and grateful that even though it has been challenging at times, it has undoubtedly also been positive. I feel like the whole year has been a cleansing, and now I am ready to move on to counting my blessings and planning what will come next. Thank you Chiron. Thank you Multiverse.

Happy New Year.

Millions Marching, One Billion Rising!

 

Video: One Billion Rising! Flashmob in Carmarthen 14/02/2013

"Another common, unspoken assumption is that spirituality is about calm and peace, and conflict is unspiritual. Which of course makes it hard to integrate the spiritual with the political, which is all about conflict.
In New Age circles, a common slogan is that "What you resist, persists." Truly spiritual people are never supposed to be confrontational or adversarial — that would be perpetuating an unevolved, "us-them" dualism.
I don't know from what spiritual tradition the "what you resist, persists" slogan originated, but I often want to ask those who blithely repeat it, "What's your evidence?" When it is so patently obvious that what you don't resist persists like hell and spreads all over the place. In fact, good, strong, solid resistance may be the only thing that stands between us and hell. Hitler didn't persist because of the Resistance — he succeeded in taking over Germany and murdering millions because not enough people resisted."
- Starhawk

Ten years ago today, along with millions of other people I was marching against the Iraq war. According to Wikipedia, "Sources vary in their estimations of the number of participants involved. According to BBC News, between six and ten million people took part in protests in up to sixty countries over the weekend of the 15th and 16th; other estimates range from eight million to thirty million." I marched in London alongside friends from the British Reclaiming community. Along the way we sang, and danced, and chalked hearts on the pavements. Although the day was grey and cold and the wind blowing off the river Thames was icy, the energy of the march was amazing. It is incredible to be among so many other human beings, all with one shared intention, one passionately held belief.

Many people who have never attended a demonstration seem horrified by the very idea. I am certain this is due to the impression given by the media that such events are inevitably filled with extremists, thugs and stone-throwing anarchists; hotbeds of violence and wanton destruction. In my experience, nothing could be further from the truth. The demonstrations I have been on, from my first way back in the '90s (against the Criminal Justice Bill 1994, which amongst other things criminalised what were previously civil offences in an attempt to stifle road protesters and hunt saboteurs), have been without exception good-humoured, fun and friendly. I'm not saying there was no trouble or arrests at any of them, but I personally have never seen any negative behaviour at all. At any large gathering of people it is inevitable that a small minority will act up, or even go along with the express intention of causing trouble. Yet it is this small minority that gets all the press coverage and attention and gives a totally misleading impression of the event and most people's experience of it.

Yesterday, across the world, millions of women (and men) joined the 'One Billion Rising' initiative in joyful flashmobs, dancing to protest violence against women, and stating that we will not stand for this! (the word "billion" refers to the statistic that 1 in 3 women will be raped or beaten in their lifetime - about one billion). From Africa to Asia to the Americas to Europe to Australasia, women gathered and danced, in some places risking their very lives to do so. Even in my local town of Carmarthen, women - including some of my friends - gathered and danced. Unfortunately I couldn't join them, which I'm really sad about! It looks like it was an amazing event, and it makes me feel so proud and so moved.

We have more power than we allow ourselves to believe. We are creating the future with every choice we make, every moment of every day. And when we join with others, when we tap into what Starhawk calls 'Power-With'* (as opposed to the more usual model of 'Power-Over') we tap into something truly world-changing.

Political demonstrations rarely change the world overnight. They don't always achieve their aim - an estimated 10 million marched against the Iraq war and still Bush and Blair went to war. And yet, these events have power. In the immediacy of the march, or the occupation, or the dance against violence, we feel our connection to each other. We know that we are not alone in feeling passionate about this issue. That gives us strength and courage. We meet like-minded souls, we make connections and forge bonds. We let those in power know that this is an issue that really matters, that come the next election, their jobs are on the line. Someone told me that for every letter protesting an issue, the powers that be know that 10 more people feel the same way, but haven't bothered to put pen to paper. How many more then, for every person who makes the effort to travel to a demo or a sit-in? In some instances, a demonstration can become a revolution. This is why protest is stifled, this is why they publish the photos of bricks being thrown at windows. They don't want you there. If demonstrating didn't make a difference, why would they care if you marched or danced or chained yourself to a railing? Standing up and being counted, changing minds does change the world. Gandhi knew it. Martin Luther King knew it. Rachel Corrie knew it, Julia 'Butterfly' Hill knew it, the Pankhursts knew it. Code Pink know it, the Occupy! movement know it, UK Uncut know it, Reclaim the Streets know it, One Billion Rising! know it.

You can make a difference. We all can. Claim your power-with!

P.S. See also this.

* Starhawk's Definitions of 'Power-Over' and 'Power-With'
Power-Over sees the world as an object, made up of many separate, isolated parts that have no intrinsic life, awareness or value. Human beings have no inherent worth; value must be earned or granted. Power-Over motivates by fear, violence or threat of violence.
Power-With sees the world as a pattern of relationships, but its interest is in how that pattern can be shaped, moulded, shifted. It values beings, forces, and people according to how they affect others and according to a history based on experience. 

Harvests - The Good, The Bad and The Wonderful

We are almost at the Autumn Equinox, that magical point at which day and night stand equally balanced before tipping into the dark half of the year. That is one reason Pagans mark this time of year with ritual. Another reason is that we are slap bang in the middle of the harvest season, which begins at Lammas or Lughnasadh and goes on until Samhain. Lammas is celebrated in high summer, at the beginning of August when the grain harvest usually begins. Samhain comes at the end of October, when farming communities traditionally brought their livestock down from the hills into more sheltered pastures and culled old or weak members of the herd. The culled animals would provide meat for a celebratory feast and this would also be salted down or cured to provide food through the coming winter months.

Autumn Equinox, or Mabon as some like to call it, is a time for harvesting the abundant fruit and nuts available as summer gives way to autumn. Apples, pears, late plums and damsons, squashes and pumpkins, blackberries, autumn-fruiting raspberries, quinces, hazelnuts, elderberries, haws, and sloes... The summer crops of potatoes and onions should be dug by now and safely stored somewhere cool, dark and dry. Then there are mushrooms to be foraged and the last of summer's bounty to be stored away in jams, jellies, pickles, cordials, wines, syrups and chutneys. And of course, seeds of flowers, vegetables and fruit can be saved for sowing next spring.

Unfortunately the fruit and vegetable harvest at Halfway Up a Hill is rather meager this year. The vegetable patch has been somewhat neglected as I no longer have as much time to devote to it, and much of the fruit harvest is disappointing due to the terrible weather we've had this summer negatively affecting pollination rates. There are no damsons at all and my usually reliable cooking apple has only three fruits, comparing miserably with the fine harvest we had last year. Even the elderberry crop is sparse. Defying all expectations though, the tomatoes have done pretty well and continue to produce, and there is an extremely heavy crop of haws in the hedgerows.

Our modern estrangement from the natural world to an extent insulates us from the extremes of food shortage that we could expect from such a cold, wet summer. Food  prices may increase, but there will still be plenty to choose from at the local supermarket, greengrocer or market stall. We are so lucky in the Western world, and we so often take that for granted.

But we are also lucky to have the wonderful human spirit of altruism, generosity and the instinct to share in times of plenty - in times of scarcity, too. Just this week I have been gifted with some homegrown runner beans, a big fragrant bunch of sweetpeas, a pretty oriental fan and a jar of redcurrant and blackberry jelly by different people. In the last year I have been given rhubarb, plants, vouchers, magazines, a vintage radio for restoration, cucumbers, fabric, kitchenware, a computer that needs fixing, yarn, a large amount of firewood and items of clothing by friends, family and neighbours; they have also gifted me freely with advice, expertise and various skills that I lack when I've needed help. I myself have passed on books, surplus eggs, incense, my old car, toiletries, magazines, perfume and homemade jam. I have borrowed a wall-paper steamer/stripper, a router, a tile-cutter, a mitre saw, and have lent out a bagful of DVDs, my carpet-shampooer, a dehumidifier, my pressure-washer and books. And I have done lots of liftsharing!

Since T left, money is a constant issue. I receive alimony, but it decreases each year and will end altogether in a couple of year's time. I am now working, but I don't seem to earn enough to manage without the alimony. And as we find ourselves in the middle of a recession with no end in sight - no matter what the politicians say - the cost of living increases almost daily. Money - or lack of it - is now a permanent worry at the back of my mind.

But in this time of balance between summer and winter, light and dark, abundance and scarcity, I breathe and choose to remember that it is true that the best things in life are free. I choose to remember that I am part of a community of friends, family and neighbours who look out for each other, share what they have and help when they can, just because that's what we humans do for each other. I choose to remember that co-operation is more important than competition. I choose to remember that abundance and money are not the same thing. And most of all I choose to give thanks for the harvest of my many blessings, which are priceless.

After The Storms...

The world seems washed clean by the torrential rain of recent days. The sky is finally clear blue, and a brisk wind chases away the last vestiges of storm clouds. In the late summer sunshine, the colours of the countryside seem to sparkle.

As the chickens scratch contentedly on the lawn and clean washing on the line dances in the stiff breeze, the world seem bright and fresh and new. At the end of summer, when it might be expected to seem that things are on a downward slide to the introspection of winter, there is a sense of optimism and newness and possibility. It seems to me it ought to feel jarring, but all I feel is anticipation and happiness.

And it's not just the weather. In the last few days I have heard news of the safe delivery of a friend's first baby; not one but two engagements have been announced; happy new relationships are springing up seemingly out of nowhere. And I have received an invitation to the wedding of my beloved Goddessdaughter next summer.

Happiness and fresh starts seem to be springing up everywhere like wildflowers. Hurrah! Long may it continue!

Wonderful Giveaway

Pic: copyright Jackie Morris

If you go to this page, you will find details of a couple of wonderful giveaways from the extremely talented Jackie Morris that you could win....

Of course, my reasons for posting this are not wholly altruistic, as you will see. I want it, I want it! *crosses fingers and wishes*

Good luck!

The Changing Tide

At the beginning of 2011, I watched as the events of the Arab Spring unfolded with a sense of hope and excitement. Wonderful how people could come together in solidarity and support of each other, and with amazing courage and tenacity face down and finally overcome what had initially seemed invincibly oppressive regimes.

In early summer I heard news of plans to turn Starhawk's book 'The Fifth Sacred Thing' into a film. This is a book that dares to imagine a future where two different societies have evolved from pretty much where we are now. One is dystopian - repressive, authoritarian, militarized, a deeply unequal society. The other is utopian - a flourishing, diverse, peaceful, egalitarian society of abundance and tolerance for all. The book imagines what would happen should these two societies confront each other. I have always thought it would make a great movie and it is a great springboard for discussion on the direction we want our world to take.

And finally, I have been watching with hope, joy (and sometimes anxiety), the birth and development of the 'Occupy!' movement. Watching people come together in the belief that another, better world is possible; watching them behave so peacefully and self-responsibly in the face of sometimes terrible provocation by the authorities; seeing consensus and true democracy in action - well, it has made me feel truly hopeful again.

Something is afoot. Change is in the air. Yet the energy though strong and determined, is also mindful and considered. This is no flash in the pan, firey but ultimately directionless revolt. Despite the protests being criticised for articulating what they are against whilst having - as yet - few solutions, I believe this is actually a strength. Rather than rushing headlong into poorly thought out answers to the inequalities in our society, the protestors are taking time to debate, consider, and generally sift through many many diverse ideas and strategies. Rather than asking the authorities to make it all better, the protestors are acknowledging their own power-with. This is sensible. This is mature. This could lead to real, and lasting change for the better.

If nothing else the protestors are learning invaluable lessons about living together in community, organising, mutual support, working by consensus. And in the meantime the continuing occupations in New York, London and dozens of other places show that they are not going away, not going to just give up and accept the status quo. The Occupy! movement is people finally taking their own lives into their own hands and realising their collective power.

There are many other hopeful developments too. The increase in interest in permaculture, the Transition Towns movement, the move away from mass-produced tat to home-made with love, from fast food to slow...

I haven't been able to get down and Occupy myself (yet!), but inspired by the protestors I am making changes I have talked about for a long time but until now not implemented. I have changed from my old bank (Lloyds, heavily invested in arms companies and with grossly overpaid directors for example) to a more ethical bank (The Co-op). I have made myself, or sourced from other craftspeople almost all my Christmas presents this year, and asked my family to make or buy my presents similarly. I am signing up to an organic veg box scheme. And putting my money where my mouth is feels good!

The tide is changing. Where it will take us, I don't know. But I feel real hope that we are heading to a brighter future. Perhaps we have a real chance to develop into Starhawk's utopian society from The Fifth Sacred Thing. Or something like it. I for one, hope so.

The Fifth Sacred Thing - The Movie

I have long loved Starhawk's book 'The Fifth Sacred Thing'. And now I am so excited to hear there are plans afoot to make it into a film!

If you also love the book, you can keep up to date with the plans via Starhawk's blog, or on Facebook. And if you haven't read the book yet, I recommend it, especially as we seem to be moving closer to the world she envisions in it...

P.S. You can now make a donation (as big or small as you like) to help fund the film here.

ThriftWitch: Magical Transformations

As I confessed in my original ThrftWitch post, I am an inveterate hoarder. This stems from my desire to find ways of re-using, repairing, re-making things. This woman's treasure is often someone else's trash! The downside of this is of course that more often than not I have more ideas than time to put them into practice - which can make for an untidy house. The upside is the sense of achievement gained when something is transformed from useless waste into something that is either useful or beautiful - or both.

Here are a few of my favourite transformations:

This first piece is a mirror I made from some driftwood I found whilst beach combing. The weathered wood was joined together in a criss-cross pattern by nails that had a wonderful patina from their time in the sea. I saw its potential immediately and used it as a frame for a mirror, finished off with a scattering of seashells and some twisted wire to hang it. It was one of the first things I made and it's still one of my favourites.

These are tea-light holders I made from old jars and they are used to denote the five elements (Earth, Air, Fire Water and Spirit) whenever our local Pagan group gets together for a ritual. They are particularly useful when we're working outdoors as they keep the candle flames from being extinguished by the wind! In this case I knew what I wanted and looked around to find suitable candidates for the job. They are simple, but I'm surprised how good they look as a group, and they have certainly had a lot of use. In fact they have been such a success I'm thinking about making some for my Etsy shop soon.



This final item is where the real 'Witchery' comes in. It's a sun catcher that throws beautiful rainbows around my bedroom, and it was made with magical intent. Just after T and I had split up, I took some bottles and jars to the local recycling centre. As I went to tip them into the skip, I saw the broken stem of a lead-crystal wineglass already in there - and of course my magpie instincts kicked in and I 'rescued' it. I was feeling pretty much thrown on the scrap heap myself at the time, and I loved the idea of taking this fragile, discarded piece of broken crystal and giving it a new start. With the magical intention of forging a new start for myself and making something beautiful to symbolise hope, I transformed it into a sun catcher. First I encased the jagged ends in thick foil to neaten them and avoid cut fingers. Then I wrapped jewellery wire around the crystal so it could be hung, and added some extra dangly bits using beads and findings from my 'broken jewellery' stash, and a smaller crystal from a broken chandelier that was waiting around to be re-used.

Now every time the sun catcher scatters rainbows on my bedroom wall it makes me smile. The crystal and I have both had a fresh start, a second chance at life. And we are determined to enjoy it.

Back In The Saddle Again...

When I was nine years old I desperately wanted a pony. A white pony, with flowing mane and tail, that I would name Silver. Silver would be my best friend, I would plait wildflowers and ribbons into her mane and we would have great adventures together, roaming the countryside. I christened my bicycle 'Silver' and attached ribbons to the handlebars to use as reins, and the bike became an imaginary pony.

My parents couldn't afford a real pony, but they did agree to send my sister and I for riding lessons at a nearby stables. I was overjoyed - until reality set in. The pony I was given to ride, Star, seemed impossibly huge (my younger sister was given a fat little Shetland pony to ride called Teddy, whose much lower centre of gravity seemed a desirable asset). Star's lack of anchor points to hold onto also seemed a serious defect - once teetering in the saddle, the stirrups and reins seemed wholly inadequate to keep me from toppling off. I had no great aptitude for riding and could not for the life of me cope with Star attempting anything faster than a slow amble. Most of the time I was quite frankly terrified. After a few weeks the inevitable happened and I fell crashing to the ground - breaking my arm in the process. As the riding instructor picked me up and dusted me down, she gave me a kindly, yet brisk talking to, about stiff upper lips and how it was essential to get straight back on the horse to ensure I wasn't put off riding in the future. Too late. I was already put off, and in fact nothing on the planet could have induced me to clamber back on Star's patient back at that moment in time.

And that was the end of my equestrian dreams. At the age of nine and a half I hung up my riding hat and decided to concentrate on becoming a secret agent instead.

******

How often do we give up in the face of discouragement? It's not always a bad thing - sometimes it is good to know one's limitations and be realistic. How many 'Pop Idol/X Factor' hopefuls who can't sing a note insist in their post-audition interview that pop stardom is their one dream and they won't be discouraged in the face of rejection? When so many people with truly wonderful voices never attain stardom, how realistic is it for tone-deaf talentless wannabes to imagine stardom is just around the corner? Would it not be better for them to realise their limitations and concentrate on finding out what they're really good at - cake decorating or brain surgery or teaching or breeding new strains of auriculas?

On the other hand, how easy it is to let a set-back hold us back. How often do we let fear of failure stop us from even trying?

******

When T and I split up, I was full of fear about my future. My marriage had given me a sense of security, emotional and financial. I thought I knew what life had in store for me, yet suddenly the rug was pulled from under me, and I felt like a complete failure. I was afraid. My future looked bleak, as everything I thought I could rely on was suddenly thrown into chaos. I expected that I would have to move from Halfway Up A Hill, and I panicked about how I could afford a new property with room for the animals. I knew I would have to get a paid job again, and the length of time since I had last been in paid employment convinced me that would be impossible. I could not imagine that I would ever find love again. I envisioned a cold, lonely, impoverished and uncertain future ahead of me.

Unlike falling off a horse and deciding not to get back on, I had no choice this time. Life was going to carry on, and not re-engaging with it wasn't an option.

Luckily, my financial situation turned out not be as scary as I had imagined. The divorce settlement allowed me to stay at Halfway Up A Hill - for the time being anyway. That gave me some breathing space in which to lick my wounds and take time easing back into the workforce. Amazingly, and quite unlooked for, a new romantic relationship developed out of an existing friendship. I was resistant at first, not wanting to ruin a good friendship 'on the rebound'. Yet IB and I have been together for over a year now and quite honestly I believe it is the best, healthiest relationship I have ever been in. Even so, it has been challenging at times for both of us. Starting a relationship in one's forties is quite a different kettle of fish than in one's twenties - the last time I was dating before this (do people even say dating any more? It sounds so teenager-y - but I digress...). At this time in our lives we are both quite set in our ways, which needs careful negotiation, yet at the same time we are more comfortable in our own skins and sure of what we want from life.

******

My bike 'Silver' is long gone (though fondly remembered) and it has been a good few years since I have cycled at all. I bought a bike about fifteen years ago but found it too much like hard work and it languished mostly unused in the garage. It has finally gone, cleared away with a lot of other stuff in my life that was no longer needed or wanted.

IB however, is a keen cyclist and has convinced me that my problem with cycling was the wrong bike. We have found me a good secondhand bike on Ebay which we picked up earlier this week. It needs a few improvements before I can ride it (the brakes need some work), but I am feeling a mixture of excitement at the thought of riding a bike again along with fear at the prospect. Am I too old? Too unfit? What if I make a fool of myself and fall off? How will I manage those Welsh hills? And yet I remember the sense of freedom and joy that cycling used to bring all those years ago. Is cycling still for me? I don't know. But I am willing to give it a try, a good try, knowing that initially muscles will ache and joints will creak, yet with practice I will improve.

Sometimes, it pays to know when not to get back in the saddle. Horse riding was not for me, and I saved myself a lot of grief (and my parents a lot of money) by quitting when I did.

But sometimes you just have to pick yourself up, dust yourself down, and start all over again. Despite having my self-confidence and trust in others severely dented, I was brave enough to start a new relationship and I am so glad I did. It has helped the sun come out again.

Sometimes you just need to take a gamble and try again. Begin a new relationship, buy a new bike, try something new and different. You never know, getting back in the saddle just may be the best decision you ever made.

Earth Day

Yesterday was Earth Day*. I went into Carmarthen to join the Earth Day event that was being held there. Various organisations had set up information stalls, there were workshops including a fun all-day craft workshop for kids using recycled materials from the local scrap stores, and a series of talks and discussions.

Unfortunately I was only able to go along for part of the day, but when I arrived just after lunch I was saddened to see only about 25 people there (plus a few more in the foyer taking part in the recycled crafts workshops with their children). Carmarthen was bustling on a sunny Saturday afternoon, the event was well publicised, and yet only a handful of people seemed to have turned out.

Nevertheless, the overall mood was upbeat and positive. The people there were in full awareness of the dire threats to the Earth and Her survival, and yet there was a mood of 'Yes we can!'.

The one exception to this was an elderly man who, during a discussion about what we can and should be doing put forward the view that it was too late, we should have acted up to 100 years ago and our lack of action then means we and the planet are all doomed. When someone - humorously - asked him why he hadn't yet slashed his wrists, he thought for a while and then replied, "Because I want to live long enough to know I was right."

My reply to this was that if I was in his shoes I would want to be proved wrong, which kind of took the wind out of his sails!

Later on in the discussion I suggested a monthly e-newsletter to keep all the different projects around the area in touch with each other, sharing resources and information. I think I may have actually volunteered to get said newsletter up and running, which is a bit daunting but also meant I left with a smile on my face and the feeling I had contributed something useful to the day, despite not being able to be there for the whole event.

That evening, along with many others around the country, at 8.30pm GMT I turned all the lights and most of the appliances in the house off for an hour, and did some chores by the light of a solar-powered lantern to mark 'Earth Hour'.

On turning the computer back on afterwards, I was saddened to see a Facebook friend had posted a link to an article from the Daily Telegraph by Damian Thompson titled 'Beat the Earth Hour fascists and turn on your lights NOW!'. When I posted a comment about why I had observed Earth Hour and how sick I was of smug cynicism about ecological issues I was jumped on by many other commentators, mostly climate change deniers and paranoid conspiracy theorists.

It was sad end to a long day, book ended by people from extreme ends of the climate change issue. On the one hand the elderly man at Earth Day represented the 'Humans are evil and we thoroughly deserve the ecological holocaust we have unleashed on ourselves' end of the spectrum, and later the Facebook commentators represented the 'I won't be told what to do by holier than thou greenies who are making it all up anyway' point of view.

Amazingly, I am not (too) depressed by this, perhaps still carried along by the atmosphere of 'Yes we can!' I encountered from most people yesterday.

It is my opinion that this world is too unique, beautiful and sacred to let it be trashed and destroyed. It may be an insurmountable task we have ahead of us in trying to turn things around, but I for one will not give up trying.

* In the UK. Earth Day is celebrated by the US in April.

Thank You!

A heartfelt thank you to everyone who took the time to respond to my plea for help and advice. All of your comments were read, mulled over, dreamed on and appreciated. The wisdom I received from you undoubtedly helped me to re-frame my experience not as 'stuckness' but as a time of rest, hibernation, coccooning while I re-examined my options and pondered my future.

In the meantime the snow has come and gone and come again, but even on the chilliest days Spring is now unmistakeably in the air, and I am 'unfrozen'.

I have made the decision to leave my difficult job, and in fact handed in my notice this morning. I have come to see - helped by all your wise words - how it was sapping my strength and sucking me into depression, and I have decided that it is wiser to remove myself from that situation than continue on a downward spiral, even if I don't have a better job to go to at the moment.

I have plans and ideas - some only half formed - but most importantly a feeling of positivity about the future.

So thank you, each and every one of you. You have helped me more than you know.

Blessed Be.