Praying through the internet

My grandmother died last night.

I write a lot about death, to my sometimes surprise, but this isn’t a post about death, or dying, or about the Ancestors. This is a post about prayer, about the technology of prayer, and about the communities that sustain us.

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Prayer for an easy passing

I wrote this for my grandmother. She passed two days later, drawing her last breath as her daughters finished singing “How Great Thou Art.” We should all be so lucky as to be carried over in a boat of love and song.

An impromptu ritual for Lugh

The storm has arrived. Thunder rolls all around, lightning streaks from cloud to cloud, its forks mirroring the trees in their early-Spring bareness. Gather yourself, your bare feet, your cup of dark wine, and stand outside, barely skirting the drenching rain beneath the small overhang of the stoop.

A month of prayers: week 3

When I buckle down and hammer out headnotes, I get things out more timely; thus, week 3, barely a week and a half overdue!

A month of prayers: week 1

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.

The mists, the sea, and the passage of souls

Earlier in the evening we had had a Grove study meeting. We concluded by going through a series of guided meditations, recording them for the convenience of future meditators. After a pair of grounding-and-centering meditations, I took the last reading, a brief trance journey passing through the Mists to arrive nearer the Otherworld. As the guide, I wasn’t able to make the journey myself — I was too involved in pacing my delivery and keeping an even, guiding tone for the others — but it seemed to be a successful experience, judging by the faces of the others when the meditation concluded.

Godly gaps and human strength

Right off the bat, let me disclaim: this is a little bit about druidry, but mostly it’s a shout-out to my husband (though it takes a little bit to get there). Jarod and I have our problems — all couples do. And over the past couple years, there have been times when the problems have been really awful: we’ve had plenty of fights with heated words and forceful arm-waving; I’ve cried myself to sleep at least once out of despair; and (worst of all) there’ve been too many occasions where quiet words fade off into silence, each of us staring into the distance. And in those times, I’ve often beseeched the gods for help.

Keeping up hope in humanity

I hadn’t intended to write about the recent terror attacks in Beirut and in Paris, nor about the way we in the West have reacted to the Paris attacks above and beyond those in Beirut and beyond. I hadn’t intended to write about the burning of mosques by people who don’t distinguish between the beauty of Islam and the horror of Daesh. Nor had I intended to write about the anti-racist student protests at the University of Missouri, which successfully demanded the ouster of Mizzou president Tim Wolfe — but only after the football team joined in, threatening the lucrative athletic program. Nor about the protests at Ohio State, where I work, which had a much better outcome, but also provoked a disgusting barrage of anonymous, racist hate speech on social media.

An introduction to Ogmios

A week ago, Three Cranes Grove celebrated the autumn equinox, which is also the anniversary rite of the grove. As is customary for 3CG, we honored Teutates, the Gaulish god of tribal protection and the patron of our Grove. In many ways it was quite similar to last year’s rite, but in one specific way it was very different for me: instead of simply attending, I was to have a role in the rite. At the liturgy planning meeting, I had volunteered to call on the spirits of inspiration. This being a Gaulish rite, I knew that I would call on Ogmios, the Gaulish god of eloquence.

The moon and Manannán mac Lir

It’s a godly time of year. As I write this, my Jewish friends are in the midst of Passover, and my Christian friends are celebrating Easter. My Facebook feed has been full, the last few days, of joyful exclamations: “Chag Sameach Pesach!” and “He is Risen!” Depending on the interlocking of the cycles of the sun and the moon, these two holidays sometimes align closely with the vernal equinox, but this year there’s been a lag of a couple weeks — my high day came and went weeks ago. Nevertheless, I thought I’d take advantage of the lunar tie-in (complete with a total lunar eclipse this past Saturday morning) to finally write a post I consider writing every 28 days or so.