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Posted by on in Paths Blogs
On Long Nights and Scarcity

Last week I traveled up to Northern California for work. On the day of my early meeting--8:30 a.m.!--I woke up in my hotel room at 6 and saw a pitch-black sky.

It wasn't a huge surprise (although I'd come from the south, where the nights were still a bit shorter). As I showered and got ready, though, and the clock ticked from 6:30 to 7 to 7:30 and the sky remained black, I had one of those random, strange thoughts that sometimes pop into your head. I thought, what if the sun just doesn't rise today?

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Pagan News Beagle: Airy Monday, November 2

The first episode of the new TV series Ash vs. Evil Dead is reviewed. Neil Gaiman's The Sandman comic comes to an end. And the inspirational power of Morticia Addams is examined. It's Airy Monday, our weekly take on religion and magic in pop culture. All this and more for the Pagan News Beagle!

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ENHYDRO CRYSTALS - Forbidden Knowledge, Excited Possibility, Magic!

This week we're going to revisit Enhydro crystals. I LOVE Enhydro crystals! There are many different thoughts about the properties of Enhydro quartz but they mostly boil down to knowledge, possibility and magic. We'll get to that later in the post. First, let's talk about what they are.

Enhydros are crystals with fluid inside them. The only way to know for CERTAIN if you have an Enhydro (if there is water or fluid present) is if there is something IN the fluid. This is most usually an air bubble, I suppose it could also be sediment of some kind, but most usually it is air.

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Posted by on in Culture Blogs
In True

Offering the morning incense in the temple today, I noticed that the altar light was a little out of true. It bugged me.

A good altar is a managed place, set to direct focus and to hold it. How the lamp moved, I don't know. In every moment the world moves, and we move with it.

Terry Pratchett says, If you want to drive a witch crazy, tilt one of the pictures on the wall when she comes to visit and watch her sit there squirming to get up and straighten it.

So there I was, making an offering but thinking about something else. And that's wrong.

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Posted by on in SageWoman Blogs
Seasons of Mist

The character of autumn you experience will depend a lot on where you live. An autumn in New England is sharper, brighter, frostier and more resplendent with tree colours than the UK. In my corner of the world, damp, grey, misty conditions are common – although we do get other weather too. We may get frost, or a lot of rain, warm balmy days, or high winds, or combinations of any and all of these things.

Yesterday I walked over the hills, and found that the flood plain of the River Severn was full of mist. A great torrent of cloud had washed up the river valley, looking like a river in full spate, breaking against the hills in distinctive waves, ocean-like at times. Whole settlements vanished from sight beneath it, the hills across the river were entirely gone. The effect was uncanny, as though everything had been washed away. I do not have any images, and an image alone would not convey the effect, because without knowing what was hidden, the scene would lose much of its power.

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Posted by on in Culture Blogs

I love to write, and, like many writers, I submit my work for possible publication in a wide variety of venues: print journals, digital journals, poetry and fiction anthologies, blogs, you name it. More often than not, my work is rejected, not accepted. I'd say I have something in the range of a thirty percent acceptance rate.

Even though rejection is the norm, it still hurts. When it is a story about which I feel particularly passionate, it really hurts. Such was the case recently when I submitted my first-ever complete novel -- and I got back an automated "This isn't for us, thank you anyway" from the publisher.

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Posted by on in Culture Blogs
Finding Atalanta

I’ve never been drawn to stories of fleet footed maidens like Atalanta, or athletic goddesses like Artemis. Even at the occasional peaks of my fitness, I lean more toward a rigorous yoga practice than intense cardio, and I’ve always said that I hate running. I remember being forced to run the mile in gym class growing up, and cursing every sweaty step as I fell farther and farther behind my classmates. When I played tennis in high school, we ran briefly every day as part of the warm-up, but the only time I remember having to run a two-mile circuit around town was one Friday when we’d pissed the coach off somehow, and running was our punishment. I’ve had friends who’ve run, and I’ve always cringed at the thought of voluntarily racing around, but I tried to be supportive even though I didn’t share their idea of “fun”.

But then, two years ago, I sustained what would become a chronic wrist injury, which limits my ability to do weight bearing yoga poses like downward facing dog and plank, and which made me kiss my rigorous vinyasa practice goodbye for the time being. And then, almost a year later, when I realized that I needed to replace my fast-paced moving meditation with SOMETHING (for both my physical health and my sanity), I spontaneously decided to start running. I made a playlist of my favorite music, laced up my walking shoes, and started jogging in the living room, using the Wii Fit to “train”.

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