A dancing spirit on the wist of a rock-and-glam witch.
Summer edition.
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I am an eclectic wiccan
Labeling is not a bad action if it comes as an intrinsic need and not as an outside application. Into such a key I do feel comfortable with a definition of me as an eclectic wiccan. The issue raised from reasoning on the disputed question: is wicca a religion?
In order to try an answer I firstly went back to the etymology of the word. And I jumped into a double root. The main notion comes from the Latin re-ligare meaning to bind tight; while onto another linguistic path it is to mean respectful consideration and care: re- counting as repetition and legere as to choose. If I let the double significance resonate in me, an inner bell definitely calls me upon the second concept. And I like it because of the freedom of choice, of course; but I feel a familiar connection to both the devotional and caring dimensions. The care of the Self and the others.
As for the first concept, I would be open to a resonance only if the bond is meant to be between men and women respectfully understanding each other into common ritual and existential habits; while I do not feel comfortable if the bond is meant to be as a reliance on a head (be it a he or a she). Literally it would tie me up as a too tight dress. I am totally attuned with a pen-witchy-friend of mine who late at night recently wrote me that we are all priests and priestesses of ourselves.
That being said, the question comes to be: is wicca a religion to me?
The definitive answer is still far because in addiction to the etymological analysis there also stands a personal reluctance to unbind from the original devotional culture I have been raised into. I love the icon of Jesus and I revere his historical figure and wisdom.
Especially when it comes to the role of women.
Forswearing the love of Christ is a need I do not feel. And certainly not in order to be a good wiccan. I was born and raised as a Christian and the autobiographical memories related to such a life circumstance represent a deep and important part of my identity. As I would say, I do not want to loose my religion, or I would drive mad…
So the question easily turns into: what is wicca to me? what does living wicca mean to me? And the answer easier to be given: being wicca means fully adhering to the cycles of Nature and understanding how to act the commonality with the goddess and the god. The latter action being (in one word) magic. An everyday practice. A ritualized philosophy of Nature not alien to an ethical dimension. An aesthetics of existence tending to the improvement of the Self. Not surprisingly, handicraft is to me one of the means of such a transformational (that is, spiritual) attitude. As well as the commitment to explore the world around me – rocks, plants, crystals, animals, trees, planets, sacred sites –, and the anthropological issue of synchretism as a lateral focus. I purse my lips with a sly and heartfelt smile when I think of the Three Marys as a symbolic survival of the three moons. I lull into the idea of a pre-world of a universal harmony when feeling mattered more than thinking. And I remind of the ending scene of The mists of Avalon when Morgaine realizes the goddess lives in the hearts of men and women through the Virgin Mary. I am a daughter of the Ancient Way.
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Pagan mood
A linen cotton blend yarn in a bronze shade for a long necklace with a roundel. It is embellished with copper wire, some cornelian beads and an orange Czech glass leaf. The pendant gives its best once worn.
And its pagan mood resonates better on a white shirt.
A Summer fire at chest as in ancient Celtic fashion.
A bold beauty
The protective and encouraging energy of tiger’s-eye.
And the essential elegance of a leaf.
The horned shaman
The preclusive distance in terms of time relegates the question into the realm of the Imaginary. I talk about the Deer Cave, a prehistoric site located in Porto Badisco, on the Adriatic extreme Southern Italian coast; and a contingent connection to other paleolithic sanctuaries preserved in the European womb.
The first time I looked at the bat guano made standing figure, I thought of the Horned God. And I began fantasizing about a tribal migration from Northern Europe in order to make sense of a worshipping continuity.
Then I found plenty of anthropological incitements in Maria Laura Leone’s work in Prehistoric Art: an article and a book. No such an hypothesis could be made. But some kind of a universal spirituality — an holistic Philosophy of Nature — is more than plausible. The horned man was decidedly a shaman. And the ochra pictograms are to be considered the reproduction of psychedelic visions recognizable as phosphenes.
The geographical distance acknowledged, a single detail still draws the attention: it is a repeated pattern reminding of the torc standing in Cernunnos right hand on the famous Gundestrup Cauldron.
A neck ring that was very common in the manifold areas of Celtic influence. Illyria included, right across the sea.
To gather in a plastic symbol that primitive image, and let it live again in the present time, I have worked out a personal version. And the new born silhouette will be placed on Beltane altar.
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A mini May Pole
Setting up for a solitary but colourful Beltane!
A protective pouch
For a fresh start, in the aftermath of a magical glitch
Un sacchettino magico, per ricominciare
Finished in one night and a morning, it is made of linen yarn.
The colour blue vehicles protection. And this particular shade gets back a sense of tranquillity and well-being.
The silver spiral-shaped button is a tribute to the Goddess.
The quartz spheres of the little pentacle are loaded with abundant running water.
The content? Herbal.
Witch Hazel to realign feet on the ground and let them go in the appropriate direction moving away from inappropriate influences.
Marshmallow to give peace to the heart and call the Good on it.
However, the main issue is: the act of crafting is healing in itself.
Here is the embodiment of a brand new beginning.
Let me dispatch some notes about the magical glinch I am recovering from into the ether of this invisible coven of ours.
To cast a spell as a newby who hasn’t honed abilities is a very unwise thing.
I know. Loneliness of the heart could be so awful that one would do anything to fill the void of desire. And so it happens to look for a recipe.
An enchantment to call on us the attention of a supposed special someone. Target identified, we throw the energy arrow.
However, as inexperienced archer we miss the mark. Or worse, we intercept an unpredictable one. Someone who is standing there waiting like an antenna, desire activated in turn. Interception occured, the effects could be devastating and prime a vertigo of discomforting consequences.
Energetic frequencies are to be cautiously approached. And the magical transmission channel should not be joined unequipped or untrained.
To cast a spell as a newby who hasn’t honed abilities is a very unwise thing.
I know. Loneliness of the heart could be so awful that one would do anything to fill the void of desire. And so it happens to look for a recipe.
An enchantment to call on us the attention of a supposed special someone. Target identified, we throw the energy arrow.
However, as inexperienced archer we miss the mark. Or worse, we intercept an unpredictable one. Someone who is standing there waiting like an antenna, desire activated in turn. Interception occured, the effects could be devastating and prime a vertigo of discomforting consequences.
Energetic frequencies are to be cautiously approached. And the magical transmission channel should not be joined unequipped or untrained.
The good news about the story is its being a learning experience.
The thing to do is to do not an equal and opposite unlearning act. The tip comes from a very determined pen-witchy-friend of mine. Time elapsed, encounter failed, do not banish the other — which is equal to bond — but rather protect yourself. Another correspondent of mine would state banishing problematic people is good, especially if no other method is feasable. As far as I am concerned, I decide for protection. More likely as a symbolic act. As a first restarting step in order to redefine the ethics of my magical everyday practice. That is, to practice the adherence to one of the basic pillars of a wiccan way of life. ‘Keep your thoughts in good order’. Which is not like stating to forget your heart. Quite the contrary. As the heart is — in my friend Amy’s statement — our most powerful energy center. The thing to do is to well define our own desires. And do not forget the error but gain awareness on the path of transformation.
So here I am, healing my soul with a magical pouch. And rediscovering other magical acts — such as purification — as refreshing starting points.
The crafting power of Craft. So that the very night I made the pouch, I also produced a purification shower blend.
Lemon juice and sea salt pounded in a mortar moving pestle clockwise.
Rose water blended with Orris Root powder in a ceramic bowl.
The whole flowing on the line of my body encouraging visualisation.
The physical plane is the extreme edge of a very inner Self calling for discipline and commitment.
But perhaps this is what magic is.
Life.
