It’s been quiet around these parts for a good while, but it’s not for a lack of activity in my real life. Rather the opposite: I’ve been buried under a pile of responsibilities and activities both secular and religious, and writing that has no clear deadline or penalty (read: this blog) has gotten put to the wayside. Of course, there is in fact a penalty: I begin to feel like I have a well bottled up in me, and as if I’m betraying promises I made to the gods when I first started this site. And so, segue, I’m here to write about running ritual and the difficult but worthwhile responsibility it brings, centered around my first time running a ritual at this past Winter Solstice. Continue reading On ritual, responsibility, and consecration
When I buckle down and hammer out headnotes, I get things out more timely; thus, week 3, barely a week and a half overdue! Continue reading A month of prayers: week 3
Week 2, only 2 weeks late! This has been sitting in my drafts for a while now, waiting for me to add headnotes to a few of the prayers. Oops?
As many people are aware, November is National Novel Writing Month: participants have daily writing goals intended to spur them to complete an entire draft of a novel during the month of November. Not all of us are novel writers, however, but sometimes we like to join in the fun. Rev. Jan Avende challenged her fellow ADF clergy to write a prayer a day, and since then it’s taken off — not just with clergy, but also with bards, liturgists, dedicants; all manner of the folk writing prayers to the Kindreds. Continue reading A month of prayers: week 1
Yesterday I was talking with a good friend, catching up on each other’s lives after a couple months only ‘seeing’ each other on social media. He asked me how I was doing, and I paused a bit to think before responding “I think… I feel like I’m changing. Not in a bad way, and not like a total upheaval, but still: a definite shift.” He nodded. “That matches what I’ve been seeing from you online.” It’s good to have that kind of validation, because it’s a very odd experience to see these processes happening; usually they’re only clear in hindsight, so it’s more than a bit disconcerting to feel like you’re observing the building blocks of your life in motion, and to feel like there’s an extent to which they’re moving beyond your direct control. Continue reading Imbas and change
I don’t do magic, not as a general rule. I’m not even sure I think it exists outside of an internal psychological reality, though a number of people I trust seem fairly sure of it. But recently I found a situation that really seemed to call for a response that was, well, magical. A few days ago, a colleague came into the office at work, waving a piece of paper angrily. It was a flyer she’d ripped down from a a bulletin board in our academic building: an image of a bust of a Caesar in white marble, its empty eyes staring out above the legend “Serve Your People / Identity Evropa.”
A thing which people who’ve never met me in person don’t know: I have strabismus. That’s the medical term (synonym: heterotropia), but most people would better know this as being cross-eyed, or having a lazy eye. My eyes generally point in roughly the same direction, but when I’m tired or I’ve been drinking, one of them tends to drift outward.
During childhood, I had three surgeries to try and correct the problem, two monolateral and one bilateral, for a total of two muscle tuck procedures per eye. (‘Muscle tuck’: the surgeon goes in and folds over a muscle to shorten it, stitching the fold into place, in order to try and force the eyes back into alignment.) Each surgery was followed with and/or preceded by some eyepatch therapy (to try and strengthen the ‘lazier’ eye) and by constant exhortations from my parents to pay attention to looking at things with both eyes. Continue reading Thinking about seeing in stereo