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Subscribe to this list via RSS Blog posts tagged in Reclaiming

Posted by on in Paths Blogs
A San Francisco Samhain

It's quite early. I'm the only one up and about this morning, except the dogs. It rained through the night and soft, fine drizzle is continuing to fall. Heavy drops of rain are clinging to the leaves on the tree in my back yard, those leaves hanging on precariously enough themselves. To my way of thinking, it's just about the perfect morning here in Northern California.

Later on today, after cooking breakfast and showering and tending to the dogs and their muddy feet, I'll be heading out to San Francisco. I have a couple of out of town guests and I love showing off "The City". There are magical places that we'll visit that are dear to me and dear to the Reclaiming Community. Reclaiming witches and many other witches besides have visited these spots regularly for nearly four decades. There's something comforting in that, especially at this time of year.

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Posted by on in Paths Blogs
Magic At 10,000 Feet

Breath. The first thing I noticed at 10,000 feet was breath. Actually, it was the lack of breath that really struck me. I became aware of the incredible effort it took to breathe deeply and slowly, enough to fill my lungs.

Altitude sickness is a thing. It's not a condition to be taken lightly. First there's that inescapable feeling of not being able to quite ever catch one's breath. Then there's the nausea. Next it's dizziness. Left unchecked, the shakes begin, you know the ones, like when you have the flu and no matter how many blankets you pile up around yourself, you shake and shiver and it feels like your teeth are going to shatter in your mouth. If the shakes set in it's time to get down the mountain immediately.

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Recent Comments - Show all comments
  • Lizann Bassham
    Lizann Bassham says #
    Beautiful! Blessings on your deep breaths!
  • Gwion Raven
    Gwion Raven says #
    Thank you Lizann

Posted by on in SageWoman Blogs

I planned a beautiful ritual with my magic group for Samhain in the Blue Mountains; at night in the labyrinth, with a fire and masks and an underworld trance. But I wasn’t even there for it – instead I found myself in Northern New South Wales, the place where the Circle of Eight was birthed and I had lived for so long. It wasn’t a time I’d planned to travel, or to travel there in particular; a tenant in my house gave notice and I knew I couldn’t organise the number of things that had to happen from where I live, a thousand kilometres away. I asked my son to drive with me, amazingly he had already taken a week off work, though it wasn’t the week that suited me. It was the week over Samhain.

b2ap3_thumbnail_Labyrinth-at-night.jpg 

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Posted by on in SageWoman Blogs
That Child's A Witch

“I was born a wild girl…

cradled tight in mountain arms…

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Posted by on in Paths Blogs
Losing Persephone. Becoming Demeter

The room is mostly empty. A strand of Tibetan prayer flags dangles listlessly from a single thumb tack. The white walls are punctuated with tiny pinhole dots, the last reminders of where posters and photos once lived. A thrift store desk, repainted many years ago, sits empty. The lack of homework and hair scrunchies and change hurriedly deposited there makes it seem even older and somehow smaller.

The offering bowl filled with cleansing herbs floats alone on a sea of beige carpet. The charcoal is lit. A single, curling tendril of smoke rises from the center, and I close the door.

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Recent Comments - Show all comments
  • Courtney
    Courtney says #
    This was good for me to read. My oldest is 14 and I'm already freaking out about the day she leaves. I'm only 34 so I can imagine
  • Gwion Raven
    Gwion Raven says #
    Hello Courtney, I remember being in my early 20's thinking about how young I would be when my kids hit 18 (ish) and were likely t
  • Gwion Raven
    Gwion Raven says #
    I imagine that we all get to be Persephone and Demeter at some point in our lives, whether that's with children or a business or a
  • Annika Mongan
    Annika Mongan says #
    This is not an experience I will ever have, but you wrote it in such a way that it becomes real and raw and relevant to me nonethe

Posted by on in Paths Blogs
To Keep Silent - Listening and Remembering

It's mid-day. The air is crisp and cool. The fog is clinging to the tops of the redwood trees, wetting the forest floor with something not quite rain yet more than mist. Sunlight makes it's way, through leaves and branches to the duff below and highlights patches on the ground. I can see spectacular rays of sunlight, filtered and spreading out like fingers, illuminating stumps and bright green lawns of moss.

I'm standing still. The air and I are both still. There's no birdsong, just now, not even the distant croaks of the sentinel ravens, roosting high above me. It's as quiet as a forest can be. Practically silent, in fact. I take in one long breath and let it out with an even longer "ahh!". It is the only sound I'll utter for the next few hours as I wander about this oh so familiar spot in the woods.

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Posted by on in Paths Blogs
In The Belly Of The Goddess

I remember the moment, the exact instant when Her name was called and She was there. She stood behind me, wrapped Her enormous feathered cloak around my body and completely engulfed me. There's no describing what happened next, except to say that I lay inside of Her for an interminable length of time. I could clearly see the ritual circle and the flames of the bonfire and the other participants going through their own processes, and I was also somewhere completely "other".

For the next three days, I walked between the worlds. I was absolutely present in this world, interacting with people, eating breakfast, making perfect sense and able to carry on conversations about toilets or whatever mundane topics we were discussing. I was utterly not present too; or maybe it's better to say I was also present elsewhere. And She was there too, as real to me as anyone I'd ever met.

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  • Lizann Bassham
    Lizann Bassham says #
    Yes. Weary but not melancholy. I remember my own year like the one you've just had - sometimes it echoes back on us (it did for m

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