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Subscribe to this list via RSS Blog posts tagged in children
I Dreamt Donald Trump Is My Roomate

I could no longer stand the hate I felt for people who hate. 

 

The night of July 5, 2018, I had the strangest dream. Instead of living in my sweet house, I was living in a large apartment, and Donald Trump was my flatmate. We weren’t lovers, we were buddies. The degree to which I have loathed the 45th and everything he stands for makes the dream quite strange, given that he and I got along quite well in the dream.

 

In the dream, we were talking, and then I accidentally bumped up against him, and it seemed like his little penis was hard, but he didn’t even blink. Of course, Trump would not blink because he is a sly, awful man. He‘d leave me in that oh-so-awful-and-prevalent feminine quandary of endlessly debating with oneself, wondering things like “Am I just imagining things ...?" But I brushed his behavior off because neither his slyness nor anything else about him was bothering me. Remarkable dream for me!

 

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Pretty Much Everything That You Really Need to Know About Paganism

Bealtaine 2008, Hidden Falls Park.

Maybe 100 people are gathered in two concentric circles. The Great Man-Woman Dance is about to begin.

Our coven kid, of course, wanted to be in the midst of all the excitement, but at three he was a little small for the dancing, and I didn't want him to get tromped.

As it happens, I was standing in the middle of the circles, leading the singing, so I scooped him up and set him on my shoulders. There he sang along happily, drumming on my chest with his heels, and watched the wheeling of the Men's and Women's Circles, their parting and their coming together.

Afterward, over the food, we discussed.

“The presiding priest spent much of the ritual with a child sitting on his shoulders,” air-reviewed my friend Sparky T. Rabbit.

He laughed, then added:

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Posted by on in Culture Blogs
Red Thread

Back when our youngest coven kid was first learning to talk, the two of us went over to the park one day to watch the rehearsal for the big May Day ceremony. As the costumed performers came in one by one, we played Name the Animal.

“Who's that?” I ask.

“Bear,” he says.

“Who's that?” I ask.

“Wolf,” he says.

“Who's that?” I ask.

“God,” he says.

It was Deer.

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Good Witch v. Bad Witch: Looking After Baby
Dear GW/BW

I need some help. I need advice on a protection spell. I fear someone may be trying to manipulate people and things to try to take my child away and I want to take every possible precaution.

Merideth
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Creating a Yule Morning Tradition for Children

We can build a cherished tradition in the simplest of ways.

 

One of my absolute favorite childhood memories from the holiday season was my Christmas stockings. I felt more strongly about them than I did about the gifts under the tree, though please don’t think my parents skimped there. 

 

There were little toys in the stockings, but I don’t recall a single one of those toys. What I remember, with sweetness, is that every year my stocking held a couple of tangerines, a handful of unshelled nuts, and a few, exquisite, small, Italian nougat candies, each candy in a tiny box that seemed oh-so-fancy to me.

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Release the Pain, Keep the Wisdom

         I was receiving acupuncture to address some ongoing health issues.  At one point in the treatment I had a deep visceral experience of a vortex or portal opening up around my belly and the words “Release the pain, keep the wisdom” came into my head.  Those words continued to run the next day as I had a long session with a powerful practitioner of magic who does her healing through deep body work and massage.

 

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Recent Comments - Show all comments
  • Leanne
    Leanne says #
    Maybe it was Anaconda, Montana. Fairmont Hot Springs is close by. Thank you for your essay. Makes me ponder my own ancestral pain
  • Lizann Bassham
    Lizann Bassham says #
    Yes it was Anaconda - thanks for catching that - I just corrected it. They eventually had a ranch outside of Whitehall. Blessing

Posted by on in Culture Blogs
Lessons.

I recently facilitated a large, public ritual at a local state park.  A lot of friends and old regulars came, and we were lucky to have a few new faces, too.  One of our surprise guests was a young mother who we have known for a few years but don’t get to see very often.  She comes to events when she can, but I really only end up seeing her once a year or so, at most.  Much to my surprise, she brought her kids with her to the ritual.  They’re sweet, clever little devils, and they have a history of being somewhat rowdy and in need of a lot of re-direction.

The children came rushing up to the altar as soon as the family arrived at the park.  This was one of those moments where Childless Trivia thought in panic “Ooh... right… kids…!”  I took time out to speak to them about the altar, making it very clear to them that they could look to their heart’s desire but touching was absolutely forbidden.  The children nodded solemnly and then went to go play on some rocks, immediately forgetting about candles, statues, and various other temptations.

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