Half a bubble.
Making Magic
I'm so looking forward to tonight's Full Moon ritual. I haven't done a full blown ritual since the Lammas open in Salem...
It seems that I'm acutely aware of feelings I did not have before Salem. Before, when I went into ritual- or was in the anticipation of it- it was a wondrous religious experience. I felt just that much closer to the Goddess- it was all suffused with light and magic and was just... beautiful. Now? There are so many added meanings and weighted memories, it makes me catch my breath and whisper thanks.
We may not have the most religious equality in the world. A Witch can not (normally) go to the dollar store to pick up a cheap athame or chalice, or go into a jewelry store and find a pentacle hanging beside the crosses. However- we can practice our beautiful religion without too much fuss. There are right-wingers that scoff at it all... but there will always be people that disagree with you. No... what I'm talking about is the fact that we will not die because we pray to a Goddess instead of a God.
In 1692, people were executed in Salem that had nothing to do with witchery. In fact- they were more Christian than those that "confessed" because they would not sully their moral codes by lying about who or what they were. That is so strong and glorious... and yet, perhaps one of the saddest things in our country's history. Christians killed other Christians out of fear. I imagine myself- with my firm, true beliefs standing before those that would condemn... what could I say? I would hope that under torture and deep punishment, I would remain true as well. It's a sobering thought- but one I entertain often. I am so in love with my religion- it is such a part of me... could I ever renounce it based on earthly pain?
This gives weight to my rituals now... this gives a sweeter passion... a stronger conviction than I had before... if that was even possible. People died- were tortured- lost their lives for freedom in all shapes and forms. I can stand in my kitchen and bow deeply to my Goddess because of others' courage.
In 1692, I wonder if they knew? I wonder what they thought, while standing before a jury that would surely condemn them. I wonder if they knew that, hundreds of years later, they would be remembered and cherished for all they had done... and would do.
I am grateful for them- for the lessons they taught and for what I have learned. This freedom- so precious and treasured as it is, has reached a new level of gratitude.
I am a Witch. And I am free to believe how I choose.
Praise the Goddess.
splashed at 11:25 AM
~*~
I'm so looking forward to tonight's Full Moon ritual. I haven't done a full blown ritual since the Lammas open in Salem...
It seems that I'm acutely aware of feelings I did not have before Salem. Before, when I went into ritual- or was in the anticipation of it- it was a wondrous religious experience. I felt just that much closer to the Goddess- it was all suffused with light and magic and was just... beautiful. Now? There are so many added meanings and weighted memories, it makes me catch my breath and whisper thanks.
We may not have the most religious equality in the world. A Witch can not (normally) go to the dollar store to pick up a cheap athame or chalice, or go into a jewelry store and find a pentacle hanging beside the crosses. However- we can practice our beautiful religion without too much fuss. There are right-wingers that scoff at it all... but there will always be people that disagree with you. No... what I'm talking about is the fact that we will not die because we pray to a Goddess instead of a God.
In 1692, people were executed in Salem that had nothing to do with witchery. In fact- they were more Christian than those that "confessed" because they would not sully their moral codes by lying about who or what they were. That is so strong and glorious... and yet, perhaps one of the saddest things in our country's history. Christians killed other Christians out of fear. I imagine myself- with my firm, true beliefs standing before those that would condemn... what could I say? I would hope that under torture and deep punishment, I would remain true as well. It's a sobering thought- but one I entertain often. I am so in love with my religion- it is such a part of me... could I ever renounce it based on earthly pain?
This gives weight to my rituals now... this gives a sweeter passion... a stronger conviction than I had before... if that was even possible. People died- were tortured- lost their lives for freedom in all shapes and forms. I can stand in my kitchen and bow deeply to my Goddess because of others' courage.
In 1692, I wonder if they knew? I wonder what they thought, while standing before a jury that would surely condemn them. I wonder if they knew that, hundreds of years later, they would be remembered and cherished for all they had done... and would do.
I am grateful for them- for the lessons they taught and for what I have learned. This freedom- so precious and treasured as it is, has reached a new level of gratitude.
I am a Witch. And I am free to believe how I choose.
Praise the Goddess.
It seems that I'm acutely aware of feelings I did not have before Salem. Before, when I went into ritual- or was in the anticipation of it- it was a wondrous religious experience. I felt just that much closer to the Goddess- it was all suffused with light and magic and was just... beautiful. Now? There are so many added meanings and weighted memories, it makes me catch my breath and whisper thanks.
We may not have the most religious equality in the world. A Witch can not (normally) go to the dollar store to pick up a cheap athame or chalice, or go into a jewelry store and find a pentacle hanging beside the crosses. However- we can practice our beautiful religion without too much fuss. There are right-wingers that scoff at it all... but there will always be people that disagree with you. No... what I'm talking about is the fact that we will not die because we pray to a Goddess instead of a God.
In 1692, people were executed in Salem that had nothing to do with witchery. In fact- they were more Christian than those that "confessed" because they would not sully their moral codes by lying about who or what they were. That is so strong and glorious... and yet, perhaps one of the saddest things in our country's history. Christians killed other Christians out of fear. I imagine myself- with my firm, true beliefs standing before those that would condemn... what could I say? I would hope that under torture and deep punishment, I would remain true as well. It's a sobering thought- but one I entertain often. I am so in love with my religion- it is such a part of me... could I ever renounce it based on earthly pain?
This gives weight to my rituals now... this gives a sweeter passion... a stronger conviction than I had before... if that was even possible. People died- were tortured- lost their lives for freedom in all shapes and forms. I can stand in my kitchen and bow deeply to my Goddess because of others' courage.
In 1692, I wonder if they knew? I wonder what they thought, while standing before a jury that would surely condemn them. I wonder if they knew that, hundreds of years later, they would be remembered and cherished for all they had done... and would do.
I am grateful for them- for the lessons they taught and for what I have learned. This freedom- so precious and treasured as it is, has reached a new level of gratitude.
I am a Witch. And I am free to believe how I choose.
Praise the Goddess.
~*~
