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2009:

Theory on how animals understand us

Facing Fear

The King of Green

Father Oak Ritual

Thoughts of the Dryads

Making Ritual REAL

The Bed of Leaves - An Analogy

"Peter and the Witch - Around the World in 80 Faiths (BBC documentary)"

As I near my twilight years

2008:

Spiritual Aspects of Yule / Those Insightful Greeks - 4 / Those Insightful Greeks - 3 / Clear out the Winter Blues / Those Insightful Greeks - 2 / Stones and Symbols / Pagan Community - What Works? / The Magickal Power of the Spoken Word / Magick and Society / Those Insightful Greeks -1 / The ancients teach us to roll with the changes / The Magic of Making Space

2007:

Knecht Ruprecht, Saint Nicolaus and Santa Claus / Fingerprints / Fasting for Pagans / Wear Your Baby / The Invisible Trust Fund: Organic Foods / Opening the third eye / The Speaking Stone / History Of Moon Magic (Part 2) / The West Memphis Three: A Modern Witch Hunt - Part 3: Tomorrow / History Of Moon Magic (Part 1) / The West Memphis Three: A Modern Witch Hunt. Part 2 - Yesterday / Free the Three : an Interview with Mara Leveritt / An Epiphany / Drought / The West Memphis Three: A Modern Witch Hunt / The Celts and their Dogs / Roots & Bones - Part Four / The Sorcerer / Stone Medicine / Our Earth / Roots & Bones - Part Three / Beltane or May Day / Grace & Madness / Being Unique in Conformity / The Old Ones Live in New Things Too / Roots & Bones - Part Two / What Do You Hear in the Murmuring of the Trees? / Protest is Good for You / Old Goddess of the pagans / Celtic Romance / Trees / Roots & Bones - Part One / Wood Magic and The Four Elements / Community Rant / Magick / Tree of Imbolc, Divine Inspiration and Seership / With a Snarl, I Let My Magic Fly / I am a Shaman, Perhaps / Crop Circles / Religious Acceptance / Pagan Lithuanian Folk Beliefs / Historic Dedication, Sgt. Stewart’s Plaque - A report for those who could not attend / Chaplains in Australian Schools / A Minority / Polish Folk Magic / The Goddess in Australia / The Celts & their Cattle 

2006:

Santa Claus' Pagan Heritage / Is this a Christian Nation? / Sacred Archeology / Dowsing The West Buckland Ley Lines, Somerset. U.K / Seasonal Blues / We of the Trees...an essay / Stand Up and Be Counted / Honoring the Dead / Closing the circle / The Halloween Witch / The witch trials of the past and today / Stoking the Fire Within / Be Diverse, Dammit, and Talk to Each Other / The Physical and the Spiritual / Dead Rights / Witches call up magic in Mexico's Los Tuxtlas / Uh, what kind of gods are these again?  / Perspective on Religion / Fight For Humanity  / Lawmakers seek to bar hot issues from the courts / “Harm No Others…” / Da Vinci Code’ is a Goddess-Send / On the Wings of Intention / Witch Awareness / Important - HR 2679 - Action Needed / Fighting the Good Fight / Wiccan Attorney Can Practice Before the Supreme Court / Project gets a taste of Ontario natives' medicinal plants

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By Ciaran Corby

We've all heard of and even probably seen how dogs react to a person who is said to be 'a bad sort'. Also how dogs and other sorts of animals, including wild ones, react to fear. Then there are the links we have with our familiars or just those animals who are our dear friends. It is as if they can understand us, which of course they can.

I've often wondered how this is, because I do not believe they speak English. They had no one to teach them, after all. No one to translate Bird, Dog Fish or Cat speak into English. There tend to be a shortage on those sorts of professors, after all.

Having spent most of my life with birds, I've had plenty of time to study them and to analyze the manner in which they interact with humans. In order not to write an entire book here and now on the subject, I shall move instead to my conclusion. I believe that animals understand what we're saying to them as well as our intentions toward them and toward the world in general by reading our thoughts or the energy put off by our thought patterns.

For example, just before I began writing this article, I was sending off an email about my parakeet friend, Goblin. Right away he woke from his afternoon nap and began singing. I was writing someone to see if they have a table I can put him on so his cage can sit at the level he likes to be. We've just moved and need lots of new things including said table. At any rate, I did not speak aloud or even glance in Goblin's direction. Yet somehow he knew that not only was I speaking of him, but I was making an effort to get him something he wanted. All the time if I'm thinking about him in such a way, he'll never fail to respond.

As I said, we've just moved. I've worried a bit about how Goblin has adjusted to leaving one state to dwell in another. If I'm thinking that he's not eating enough, he'll go right away to eat. If I'm thinking that he's been too quiet and I'm hoping he feels alright, he'll start singing and playing actively with his favorite toys. I always feel that it is kind and considerate of him to allay my fears the way he does.

Our thoughts are very powerful, and they do put off energy and energetic patterns. Animals communicate on a different level. They are innocent yet wise, and see things very clearly. They are open in ways that humans have long forgotten. This is how an animal can see straight into people and know them right away. When trying to convey a point to an animal who does not seem to understand you, drop the words, and focus more on your thoughts. You'll be pleasantly surprised at the results!

Ciaran Corby

Author of The Dark Mage, Soulbreaker, Siren, and more!

Check out my work:

http://www.mysticmoonpress.com/authorpages/ciarancorby.html

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by Cornelia Amiri
 
On St. Patrick’s Day, at least in the United States, anyone who doesn’t wear green gets pinched. So this St. Patrick’s Day, when you don your green to honor Ireland, give a thought or two to old King Tighernmas (Teernmas) of Tara, who brought the color green to the emerald Isle.
 
Through trade with the Phoenicians, he obtained dyes to create green, yellow, and blue and introduced those colors to Ireland between 900 – 1534 BC, as his reign fell somewhere in that timeline. He also enacted sumptuary laws on the numbers of colors worn by the different classes. Six colors to the highest of society, kings, queens, druids, five for the chieftains, four for land owners who offered hospitality, three for warriors, two for peasants and one for slaves. By using plaid the Irish and other Celts wore multi-colors, three to six, at one time. So under Tighernmas’s law slaves or servants wore solid colors, peasants wore checkered patterns, and plaid for higher classes.
 
Also, speaking of Celtic apparel, the legend is the first smelting of gold in Ireland occurred during Tighernmas’s reign. The King’s wright, Iuchadán, worked gold found near the Liffey, the river that runs through Dublin. So the Irish could pin their plaid cloaks to their tunics with gold broaches and band their necks with gold torques. Torques, neck rings, open-ended at the front, are the most recognized ornaments of the Celtic world. Worn from 1200 BC to 600 AD, by Kings, Queens, and Druids, as emblems of royalty like a crown. Not only did they serve as symbols of power, but also held power. An example is a story passed through time of a Roman solider, Manlius Torquatus, who earned his name after taking a torque from a fallen warrior. By stealing the torque, Torquatus captured the warrior’s strength, conferring it onto himself. Torques weren’t the only thing Tighernmas ordered from Iuchadan, he gave gold drinking horns to each of his followers.
 
Tighernmas is known for introducing the worship of Crom Cruach a harvest or solar god and a main deity of Ireland until St. Patrick brought Christianity to the isle in 5th century AD. Crom Cruach isn’t included in St. Patrick’s writings, but it’s believed the deity referenced as Cenn Cruach in the Tripartite Life of Saint Patrick, written in the 9th century, is Crom Cruach. That account says that when Patrick approached the idol of Cenn Cruach and raised his staff, the stone image fell face-down, with an imprint of St. Patrick’s staff left on it. Then, the god appeared and St. Patrick cursed him, casting him to hell.
 
The idol of Crom Cruach stood on Moyslaught (The Plain of Adoration), in a circle with twelve smaller standing stones. An old reference to Crom in ogham translates, “In it Cruach was and twelve idols of stone around him and himself of gold.”  It’s alleged that he demanded sacrifices of children at Samhain. But Crom Cruach cannot be identified among the Danaan divinities. Classical Roman writers described the idol as a rectangular stone with no carvings. Even in that time period, when ancient Romans wrote of Crom Cruach, the idol was so old only the tops of the twelve stones remained visible above ground and the main idol had slanted or toppled over.So actually, hardly anything would have been left of the idol when St. Patrick arrived.
 
Tighernmas has a reputation of introducing the worship of an evil god, but we know little to nothing of Crom Cruach. What his worship entailed, if there were sacrifices or not is a total mystery. However, a king who gave Ireland the color green and gifted all his followers with gold drinking horns can’t be all bad. So when you honor Ireland and St. Patrick, don’t forget those who came before, such as Tighernmas of Tara.
 
I dedicate this article to Tara or Teamhair, currently under threat. It is the sacred and ancient seat of kings where Tighernmas and so many others ruled and where they are most likely buried. Please see these links for further information:
Protest Song for Tara - http://www.myspace.com/songfortara  Save Tara petition - http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendid=195681174
Video - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vliZK6pwI8w
Tara Watch - http://www.tarawatch.org/
 
Bio:Cornelia Amiri draws on her love of history and fifteen years of research on the ancient Celts, to write tales of long swords, hot heroes, and warrior women.Ms. Amiri is the author of six Celtic/Romance books - A Fine Cauldron of Fish, Druid Quest, The Fox Prince, The Vixen Princess, Danger is Sweet, and One Heart One Way. She has short stories in two anthologies, Dead End Job in A Death in Texas and Vampire Dancer in Sleeping With the Unead. http://www.myspace.com/CelticRomanceQueen 

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By Juniper
 
A lot of pagans and witches, especially those new to their path can become
frustrated when they feel that the rituals they are preforming are simply
not "real" or have any deep meaning or feeling to them. We all want that
special spiritual experience. But how can we set ourselves up for the
mysteries?
 
Here's a few tips:
 
Decorate your altar, shrine and ritual space with items that relate (in
your mind) to the ritual purpose. Use colors, scent, images, and tools to
their best effect.
If you are doing a very masculine working, do not put pink flowers on your
altar. Put images and items that have a masculine feel and meaning to you.
If you are doing a hearth and home related ritual, put a dollhouse in the
room, cut out images of fireplaces from a magazine and tack them on the
wall.

Do not bother with placing items that will not be used or useful during
the ritual, only use what is going to be really helpful. If there is a
print on the wall that does not relate to your ritual, take it down, or
hang a piece of fabric over it. Cut out the distractions as much as
possible.

Do not worry about the proper correspondences as written in a book; think
about what gives you the right impressions, thoughts and feelings. It is
all about your mind connecting your surroundings with the ritual purpose.
 
Don’t sweat the small stuff. Do not allow yourself to become distracted by
silly little things, like almost tripping, almost spilling, slipping up a
few words, and the clock ticking in the next room. Do not worry about
making a fool of yourself, if your makeup is getting smeared, if your
deodorant is holding up. These are all distractions. They do not matter.
 
Don’t rush! Slow down and take your time. Rushing through a ritual will
not give it that deep meaning; you will gain nothing from it. If your
rituals are too long, cut the fat. Trim it down to only what is really
important, so that you can spend the proper amount of time focusing on
that.
 
Move! Dance, clap, stomp, sway, and wave your arms around. Just standing
there shuffling your feet does not help to build energy, it also does not
help you to feel the ritual. It may seem a tad silly, but if you are
finding a lack of emotion, a lack of meaning in your ritual, try doing an
interpretive dance, act out your ritual. Tap your foot in time to the
words you are speaking.

Do your own personal sign language. If you are saying something about the
moon, draw a circle or crescent in the air with your hand or ritual tool.
If you are trying to connect with the feminine divine, touch your breasts
(if you are a woman), draw the shape of a woman in the air, hold you arms
as if stroking a pregnant belly or as if you are holding a baby. When
contacting a god, touch your crouch (if you are a man), or draw a hammer,
a phallus or horns or oak leaf in the air in front of you.

Stand up straight, lie down, sit up, lean to one side and then the other,
hop on one foot, and use those hand signs and body postures found in
Paganism 101 books.
 
Say it like you mean it. One of my best teachers was into drama and
acting. She used to shout at us during ritual “Emote dammit! Say it like
you mean it!” don’t just read off of some page in a monotone, say it with
feeling, drama, and meaning.

When you are inviting entities into your ritual, speak with welcome in
your voice, say it as if you were inviting a friend in to your home.
Do not rush through a prayer, chant or poem as quickly as possible. Take
the time to carefully speak each line, with feeling. Repeat if necessary.
Pretend you are an actor on a stage where your audience is hard of hearing
and far away. Emote and project. Speak from the heart and use your belly
voice, as acting and singing instructors would say.

Singing and chanting rather than speaking can also help you to inject
emotion into your words. So try it, even if you do not have a great voice.
 
Use your imagination. That’s what visualizing is all about. Using your
imagination will help you to connect with your creative side, the right
side of your brain, the part of you that does not worry about logic, but
that relies on feelings and intuition.
 
Practice, practice, practice. Do not give up if things just don’t feel
like they are working the first time. Try it again; try everything at
least three times before moving on to something else. The first couple of
times you perform a new ritual, you will feel rather awkward, that’s
perfectly natural. You cannot truly find that spiritual connection until
you have become somewhat comfortable with what you are doing.
Do not expect results right away, the very first time. This rarely happens
for people.

Also it can be a good idea to practice at home, alone a couple of times
before you go and join in a group ritual.
 
Feel it, really feel it. Don’t just go through the motions. If you feel
that you are, stop! Take a few deep breaths and remind yourself what you
are doing and why. Find your motivation. Say it out loud, think it,
picture it in your mind, and really feel it. Draw it, paint it, and write
poetry about it.

Do whatever you need to do before a ritual to make sure the purpose of the
ritual is fresh in your mind and filling your heart. At each step along
they way during a ritual, stop for a second and reaffirm what you are
doing and why.

Keep the ritual purpose in the forefront of your mind and heart.
A good ritual, a really truly good ritual should bring you to the brink of
tears, happy or sad. People have often made fun of me for getting choked
up or actually crying during ritual. They don’t get it, not at all.
If you really want results, you need to bring your heart fully into it. If
you want a ritual to have meaning, you must give it meaning. You must
really feel it, you must put that feeling into it.
 
Laugh, cry, shout, sing, dance, smile, and do it like you mean it! If you
do not mean it, you shouldn’t be doing it. If you do not mean it deep in
your mind, heart and soul, you will never have that special spiritual
experience you seek.
 
Good luck!
 
~ Juniper of Walking the Hedge 2009 (feel free to share, just add this
disclaimer)
 
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By Crick

This morning, just prior to going to work, as I walked through the rain drenched woods; one thing that I started to notice was the thick bed of leaves that carpeted the floor of this quiet woodland.

Such a thick layer of leaves, that took years to form.

Immediately an analogy sprang to my mind.

As I walked along one could only see the surface of this glistening bed of leaves. And I realized that this was just a one dimensional view. For beneath the surface, unseen to the eye a whole different world existed. Colonies of various life forms were being born, living and dying. Each species was interacting as a community, each one unique to their particular life forms, just below the bed of leaves.

And yet with a one dimensional view their very existence would go un- noticed by those who tread above, totally unaware of such a microcosm just below their feet.

And then I began to think of how society often travels through the woodlands of life with a one dimensional view.

I began to think of how so many folks make judgment of others with such one dimensional views. Many folks will look at others of their own kind and see only the color of one's skin, or how they wear their hair, or of their nationality, or of how they dress or what religious/spiritual beliefs they follow. And based upon such a one dimensional view, such folks will make a superficial judgment of others. They never bother to look beneath the bed of leaves.

And then I began to think of how this analogy extends itself to the pagan community. And as I pondered these thoughts I began to think of all of the folks who proclaim themselves as masters.

At this point I began to quietly laugh, startling a young doe that was walking up the trail. For by claiming to be a master one is saying that they have such a deep knowledge of the mystical arts, that searching and learning about the mysteries of life is behind them. And yet such folks have barely scratched the surface of what life which extends beyond just this one realm has to offer.

In short they are simply expressing their insecurities at having barely looked beneath the leaves covering the woodlands of life.

I also thought of the one dimensional view which some individuals and groups use when they express themselves as being the only one with the correct answers to the mysteries of life.

Quite frankly, the bed of leaves which covers the woodlands of life is far too vast for any one person or group to make such superficial claims with any sense of validity.

And yet the one dimensional claims continue.

As a simple witch, I am content to dig beneath the bed of leaves that are within my reach and learning about the mysteries that are actually within my sphere of experience and understanding. I realize that there are so many mysteries just out of reach that will not be discovered within just one lifetime. And as such I am content to continue my quest for knowledge as a student of the Great mysteries of life that await each of us. To claim to know what lies beneath the entire floor of the woodlands of life is simply to maintain a one dimensional and thus a superficial view of what could be so much more.

There is nothing wrong in acknowledging that we don't have all of the answers. But having a one dimensional view just seems to be so "human" like.

As a pagan I expect more from my experiences in this life.

And so as I return to the realities of being at work on this gray and overcast day, I have but two questions.

Have you turned over any leaves recently in order to see what lies below?

Or are you content to just view the surface of the bed of leaves that cover the woodlands of life?

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Epidsode 1:  Australasia & the Pacific Ring of Fire
UK screening: Friday 2nd January at 21:00 on BBC TWO
http://www.bbc.co.uk/80faiths/locations/australasia.shtml
 
Rev. Peter Owen-Jones struck me as a sort of 'Indiana Jones' explorer  
of Religious practices. I met him for the first time as he climbed up  
a flight of stairs and entered the ritual space we were setting up  
for our coven's Esbat that night.
 
We're a Sydney coven of witches and had been approach earlier in the  
year by Peter's BBC producer Sian. The film-crew were traveling to  
Australia and hoped to catch-up with us when they arrived. We were  
initially surprised that Peter wanted to travel half way round the  
world to film a group of witches, when there must be plenty in the UK  
- the birthplace of modern Wicca. We were nonetheless honored and  
intrigued.
 
The filming of our Full Moon Esbat rite was quite an experience.  
We've had photographers in our circle in the past, but never a camera  
and a roving 'woolly' mic (see pics on Flickr). The crew blended into  
the circle as best they could and we relished the opportunity to  
share such a sacred ritual with genuinely interested people.
 
We really wanted Peter to have an authentic and unapologetic  
experience of what it's like to be at a Witches' Esbat. He took a bit  
of persuading before he decided to join the coven skyclad, but I  
think he's glad he did, as were we.
 
As the fire in the cauldron began to spiral upward with our dancing,  
Peter looked a little amazed. We treat this fiery serpent as a sort  
psychic reflex or barometer to the energy in the circle. It can be  
affected lots of things - our feelings at the time, the Luna phases  
that these respond to, as well as other psychic forces at work in the  
actual location of the ritual. The energy for this Esbat was  
generally free flowing and even Peter seems caught up in the  
experience of joy and beauty in the ritual and dances.
 
Our magical practices are very eclectic, drawing not simply on  
Gardnerian Witchcraft, but also from many direct psychic experiences  
as well as other forms and traditions. We have experimented with  
esoteric Voudoun, Thelemic magick, as well as Shamanic practices; and  
we also utilise dreaming-work encouraged by the work of C.G. Jung.
 
I should note that we haven't actually seen any footage yet, although  
the Producer has been in touch to say she will be sending us a copy.  
Ironically the program is not scheduled to be aired here in Australia  
yet either! So we are relying on UK pagans in order to get a glimpse.
 
You can see some photos taken by our friend Jennie Jones on the night  
via my Flickr page.
 
http://www.flickr.com/photos/58658312@N00/
 
vinum sabbati,
Tim Hartridge & Tori Collins
 
http://www.witchesworkshop.com
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/WitchesWorkshop/

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Phaeton and the Destruction of External Supports.      

By Ishamael

Many times in our lives we seek to find confirmation to our value 
from the outside. The sentiment was well known to Phaeton, son of a 
mortal woman and the sun god Helios. Every time he was approached by 
his peers and questioned on his parentage he didn’t know what to say. 
For some reason, unlike Heracles, son of Zeus or Theseus, son of 
Poseidon, Phaeton could not feel his own divine powers. That was in 
essence the source of his troubles.      

When a few young rascals approached him with doubts about his 
worth, Phaeton heard a reflection of his own uncertainty in their 
words. He didn’t feel able to prove his mettle using merely his own 
resources. He had to show the youths, and himself, some tangible 
demonstration of his superiority using the divine stature of his 
father. This consideration overpowered all rational thoughts in his 
head.      

Consequently the son of Helios made a mistake. He found his 
father, a very powerful god, and asked him to guide the sun chariot 
itself. If granted, such a favor might doom most mortals and challenge 
the Olympian gods themselves. Notwithstanding, he could have used the 
situation as an opportunity to learn something about himself.      

He could have discovered a skill for navigation similar to his 
father’s or for breeding the horses properly, or for healing the humans 
with sun power as Apollo did later. Had he found fascination in any 
aspect of driving; his interest might have unlocked the divine powers 
he had been craving.      

Phaeton’s arrogant wish to drive then was not so bad in itself. It 
could have given rise to a variety of wonderful chances for him. He 
could have been satisfied, had he been flexible about the form in which 
his desire was fulfilled. He could have realized he wasn’t fit to fill 
in the shoes of Helios and embark on a journey for his own niche.     

Nevertheless, Phaeton did not care about the beauty of the 
wonderful horses his father used to pull the chariot. Their capacity to 
understand and respond to mental commands went completely unnoticed by 
him. Even the benefit the sun chariot could bring to all life forms on 
earth mattered not to Phaeton.      

Thus, there was nothing about the action of driving which could 
give Phaeton any glimpse of how divine he really was, for he took no 
interest in any of it. He wanted the chariot as an external symbol of 
status. Once obtained, the superficial gesture added no insights into 
his true nature. It started as a good will of his father, and proceeded 
with the magnificent horses following their own agenda. There was no 
aspect of Phaeton invested in the activity.      

After all, he wasn’t really committed to the driving itself. He 
only wanted his domination of the chariot to be visible to others. An 
easy external support to his claim on divinity, without any effort 
invested on his part. He thought he could emulate his father without 
going through the arduous process Helios himself had to undergo for 
many years.

Naturally, Phaeton’s disconnection from the source of his power 
took away his mental clarity. He couldn’t see that it was the hard work 
that allowed Helios his own divine attributes. The sun god took 
interest in the job he was doing and was committed to fulfilling his 
duty of driving the Sun chariot impeccably. Since his work was so 
difficult he was forced by laws of nature to develop the inner talents 
to match the hardship.      

Moreover, Helios wasn’t concerned with how he appeared to other 
gods. The mighty sun horses weren’t necessary to show off his powers. 
They were merely an instrument of his will. As such, they reflected to 
others who Helios was.      

Phaeton, riddled with fears of his inadequacy, would never 
discover the truth his father had attempted to impart to him. He didn’t 
feel capable of any such heroic efforts. He always chose the 
superficially easier way out of his problems and eventually paid for it 
dearly.      

His lack of commitment to the action he took upon his shoulders 
brought about lethal results. Phaeton gave up control over the sun 
chariot, causing disasters of great magnitude to the earth and the 
underworld. He had to be stopped and reluctantly Zeus, the father of 
divine law, struck him with a thunderbolt.   

Disconnection from the Self happens frequently to most of us. On 
those occasions it might be tempting for us to seek out some empty 
external validation to who we think we are. As long as our need for a 
wish fulfilled motivates us to act with interest in what we are doing, 
we might uncover some Essential Aspects of the Self and alleviate the 
pain of disconnection.

As Phaeton’s example teaches us, external supports cannot last for 
good. They lack the solidity of substance necessary for support. They 
will always prove insufficient at the end. Only the inner potential, 
unlocked under the pressure of experience, will carry us through all 
the tests of time.
 
 
 
Ishamael is a mathematician, a hypnotherapist, and a rune reader, who 
has been practicing numerology for years and developed his own unique 
methods, based on his knowledge of math and ancient cultures. For 
further questions, you can contact Ishamael at asdraikh@yahoo.com

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The Test of Strength

By Ishamael

Hector, the champion of Troy during the famous Trojan War was a formidable man. In times of peace he showed himself to be a respectful son, a faithful husband and a loving father. At the onset of the Great War he accepted the duty of the first born son to protect his nation in battle and excelled in it as well. 

Pouring all of his resources into the battle, the Trojan as a leader needed to encourage others to fight their best. His adversaries numbered such notorious heroes as Odysseus and Ajax, Menelaus and Agamemnon who are still remembered for their military prowess thousands of years after their demise. The Trojan soldiers rightfully feared the Greek heroes. Only their champion’s noble spirit could elevate them to such a degree that they would agree to face their worst fear.

Simultaneously, Hector was forced to engage in a more personable battle. His brothers and other Trojans could replace him for a time while facing most Greeks. There was nobody else however who could stand for a brief second against the virtually invincible Achilles. Distracted by his duty as a war leader, Hector also had to pit himself against the truly superhuman strength of the best fighter in the world. Over and over again Hector repelled his adversary, knowing that his next time could be the last. Only Hector’s heroic efforts managed to gain Troy as much time as it had. 

The wonderful Trojan hero seemingly spent his strength to the utmost ability. As family man, a warrior and a leader he went beyond all human expectations. Why is it then that he earned such an ignoble death at the hands of his arch rival Achilles, deprived even of the common decency of burial for some time?

The answer lies with the proper application of strength. As hard as Hector's pursuits might have seemed to a common man, Hector was still operating on the grounds that were familiar to him. Fighting and family were concepts he had well absorbed previously. He was prepared to be challenged within his comfort zone and fight to the last, but not step outside of it.

He had done everything he could to save his beloved homeland, except for the very first choice had had implicitly made. Once the Trojan War started, no human would be able to win, while fighting on the terms of the aggressor. The war should have been prevented. It was only fought due to the remarkable stupidity of Prince Paris. The beautiful Helen should never have been accepted into the halls of Troy. It was she who was the real Trojan horse; the true test of strength for Hector.

A noble hero like Hector would find it almost impossible to turn a lovely young woman away from his city. The bonds of hospitality and protection were the tacit assumptions under which the Trojan hero operated. To suspend them and revisit them objectively would prove his real strength. Helen needed not his hospitality or protection, her former husband Menelaus would gladly provide those. It was actually Paris who needed to be protected from the fruits of his folly. As an older brother, that was Hector's true duty.

Such reevaluation of the most basic assumptions would be highly unlikely for Hector. Noble fighter he had been, but in the most important test of his life he failed bitterly. The truly strong warrior would choose his own battle ground, however uncomfortable. His dedication to the mission would outweigh the discomfort of facing the unfamiliar. True strength requires enormous flexibility of the mind, of the kind illustrated in the Odyssey. But that is a theme for a different article.

By Ishamael

In the previous article, we looked into the power it takes to make an emotional choice, different from traditional conventions. This article continues to investigate the theme of finding the freedom from conventions through the wise ideas of Greek mythology.

Positive Attitude

All the gods in the Greek pantheon have remarkable attributes. Each divinity has special talents which distinguish it from its peers. Usually their areas of expertise differ, at times they overlap, but one property all the entities have in common is their outstanding physical beauty. All, that is, except the god Hephaestus.

 Imagine what it would be like, to live in a world inhabited exclusively by the most beautiful models and actors you have ever seen. A world which worships the ideal of beauty and being ugliest means being the worst. A world where you are not merely different from the average person but are objectively and recognizably uglier than the lowliest of the residents. 

How easy it would be for anyone to curse fate and complain about the unfairness of it all. Those other deities did not appear to perform any lofty deeds. Why then, were they more deserving than the unfortunate god of the forge? Why should he be the miserable one, and not them, Hephaestus could have bitterly wondered.

Sadly, no complaint alone, as natural as it may be, will change anyone's life for the better. Perhaps, as Hephaestus’ example indicates, we should try a different attitude, which is not even based on previous experiences. The god's past was comprised of unmitigated misery. Any response he would naturally come up with, would only entangle him further into the clutches of a never ending loop of suffering. He may not have done anything to cause his misery, but there was no reason for him to remain effected by it.

Yet to stop the suffering from recurring, due to the power of inertia, Hephaestus had to change his environment. He was already familiar with the concept of being the outcast and suffering from it. To learn something else he had to get out of the well known framework of pain.

This consideration of changing environment is logically very sound and seems inevitable. Emotionally though, the difficulty of initiating such a change is too great for many us. If left to his own devices, the god would probably choose to stay where he was and suffer.

Strangely, Hephaestus was helped in his self realization by the ill will of the other gods. His own mother chased him away from the mount of Olympus. His only fault was his marked difference. He was deprived of the company of his peers. He could go out to the lesser humans and enjoy their worship, but deep inside he knew he wasn’t ready for it. Even they would recognize him as being inferior in beauty to the other gods. He couldn’t face the humiliation, so isolated himself from everybody else. His retreat seemed very much like a total defeat.

Nevertheless, it was this lonely time that allowed him to find his inner worth. The ugly god turned out to be a forge master. His solid artistry was unparalleled by anything the beautiful and sophisticated gods such as Aphrodite or Apollo could contrive. Thanks to his physical difference and consequent isolation, he managed to unlock his inner potential.

In many ways, Hephaestus became the worthiest, the most respected resident of his world. The beauty he had been anxious to find in himself, he recreated in his wonderful smithy. Thus he filled that enormous hole in himself that he associated with physical beauty. What he really needed was his own place in the universal scheme, however different it was, and whatever means led to it.

That is fundamentally what all of us, who are slightly or majorly different from the rest, seek. It is not the sameness we want, but our place of honor that our difference deprives us of. Does it matter then, how we get to that respected position? Why should it, if it didn’t for the great god? Yes, he had his immense forging talent, but each of us has a no less valuable ability which can be applied in this world.

Hephaestus, with his mighty powers, could launch a war of revenge on those who slighted him. No god could defeat his shields, not even Zeus himself. It would be so easy for him to get even, and take the superficial world down. That would have surely be his right, but exercising it would be to no avail. He would still be responding according to the teaching of pain received from the other gods. Then he would utterly lose the freedom to act of his own will.

He chose a different path, the only one that could make him happy. The patron of smiths found that working with his tools was all he ever needed. By being so self sufficient, proud of his work, and at the end, indispensable to the universal order, he found through hard work the respect he’d craved for. As different as he was, he has gained the full measure of happiness.

In the process, he elevated other gods in their self worth. They were comfortable with being shallow. Hephaestus showed them they could be more than that. They could like him for being what he was, as ugly as he had seemed to them. They could rise above the superficiality.

 It is symptomatic that Aphrodite herself, the epitome of physical beauty, became his lover. She realized that, while beauty can be in the eyes of the beholder, the beholder doesn’t truly matter. As long as the god considered his work beautiful, he had that inner worth shining from the inside. It made him beautiful in his own right.

Hephaestus was a god. His aspirations though, represent those of the rest of us. He maintained the impossibly positive attitude in the most adverse circumstances, because there was no other choice for him. He was committed to being happy, no matter how hard it might become. Regardless of how greatly life's tests tried him, he was able to take something priceless out of his pain. He connected to his Self through working with his abilities. He found that Self to remain beyond the constraints of its environment.

It's easy to say as many of us do, "just be yourself." Hephaestus discovered that when the self is formed under duress, such a task can be rather uneasy to master. Yet, the consequences of being disconnected from one's self are even harder to stomach. For that reason, while understanding the difficulty, the lame god was able to find within himself the resources to devote himself to the search for inner freedom. He dedicated all of his time to looking inside, overcoming the fear of what he might find there. He came across the passion to create weaponry in his own unique way. That talent was not very obvious to him in his previous circumstances. It was the change in his mental environment that did the trick.

There are many lessons we can derive from the myth of the ancient god. Nevertheless, one theme appears to loom large in this account.

Whatever property we are lacking, physical, emotional or mental, there is something inside of us to compensate for it. We just need to take some time out to look for it and trust in the guidance of our instincts. The temporary retreat into ourselves allows us the chance to form our own responses to the situation. When we gain in that way the freedom from our past conditioning, we acquire the ability to 'just be ourselves.' Then, the Self faithfully guides us through unavoidable pressure of circumstances towards the sublime experience of Joy.   

Ishamael is a mathematician, a hypnotherapist, and a rune reader, who has been practicing numerology for years and developed his own unique methods, based on his knowledge of math and ancient cultures. For further questions, you can contact Ishamael at asdraikh@yahoo.com

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By Crick

Ever since the early 1970’s when I first became aware of such concerns, there has been talk of forming a pagan community. To my mind there has always been such a community though it has not always been publicly evident as such. For the most part it has been due to the repressive policies of the Abrahamic belief systems that have necessitated a hidden and thus a secret society.

Since the beginning of humankind, pagans have been about and quietly practicing their craft. Some have engaged themselves as solitaires and others have thrived within small and secluded covens or similar gatherings. In all reality this is what constituted a pagan community. Regardless of what approach one chose, the magickal arts have always been preserved and studied as such. Spiritual growth has continued to flourish in spite of the obstacles that it has had to overcome.

And depending on what era one lived in, these obstacles could well prove to be fatal.

And now with the indignation of religious/spiritual censorship being slowly cast aside, and with the advent of the Internet as a means of mass communication, there has been a call for an open pagan community.

This call for such a community has in essence been the first step towards establishing such a public entity.

However over the years it appears as if those who have expressed a desire to achieve such a goal have started to spin their wheels per se.

Granted there are small groups here and there who immerse themselves in their local projects, however there is little if any connectivity beyond their particular locales with other such like minded groups.

On occasion someone from the so called pagan community will be invited by one of the Abrahamic groups to participate in a meeting or a short lived council if you will. And these individuals will state that they are representing the so called pagan community at large.

However, in all reality this is a fallacy for the umbrella of paganism is far too diverse to be represented by one individual or one style of pagan related belief. And at the end of the day they are in all reality simply representing their own particular group and/or project without any authentic endorsement of the majority of those who call themselves pagan.

Folks will peripherally say that what these folks are doing is a good thing and then will go about their lives without any actual involvement in the process of the moment. And such involvement by the majority is crucial if such claims are to be seen as valid and not as the chest thumping that it invariably is.

And also in all reality there is no pagan community as envisioned by the Neo pagans of today’s society. In fact the words “pagan community” is euphuism for identifying those who have a similar interest in the magickal arts. But then that is where the similarities end. For the magickal arts encompasses a wide and divergent system of beliefs.

And this is where the lack of fruition in developing such an envisioned pagan community begins.

There is a fallacy in place amongst neo pagans that a pagan community can be fashioned after the same mold as used by the Abrahamic religions. As long as this fallacy is endorsed, I seriously doubt that there will ever be a realistic pagan community established as such.

I personally believe that this fallacy is a result of the huge and rapid influx of folks from the Abrahamic belief systems into paganism.

This is one of the setbacks of the Internet, for in all reality, the craft is not for everyone who seeks it.

To truly embrace paganism and to fully realize all of its potential offerings and rewards, takes discipline, patience and a deep desire to learn. In short it requires a dedication that is not very widespread in today’s society.

As we have seen from the multitude of bloated egos amongst those who call themselves pagan, there is a resistance to these time honored qualities. And yet, instant gratification is an unrealistic tenet of paganism.

With human nature being what it is, it is very difficult to divest oneself of one’s former beliefs in favor of a belief system that was previously foreign to them.

Within the Abrahamic belief systems is a centralized authority, a concept that will never work with pagans. There is an authoritarian rule that is male dominated that also will not work in paganism. And finally, though the various branches of Abrahamic belief systems may have slightly different approaches, their collective belief systems worship one male God. And this absolutely will not work in a viable pagan community.

And so why do pagans continue to embrace an approach that is destined to fail from the start?

Perhaps it is because of the familiarity of such an approach that originates from ones former comfort zone in the form of their previous religious/spiritual beliefs?

And so how do we collectively as pagans get to step two if at all?

I wish that I had the answers but as one individual pagan all I can offer is a personal perspective for what its worth. I personally believe that the closest that neo pagans will ever come to a pagan community is at best a loose federation, a gathering of the tribes if you will. Such a federation may want to consider a round table of representatives consisting of members from all of the various pagan disciplines. This would mean a loose collaboration of sorts amongst Witches, Druids, Voudon, Asatru, Wicca, Native American, Yoruba, Santeria, and so forth.

Is such collaboration possible amongst such a diverse group of beliefs? I really don't know, but without such collaboration all that is left is step one, where small groups of folks do their own thing without any tangible concept of community outside of their own local locales. And even within the same locales there will continue to be a lack of realistic cohesion, for each group inevitably wants to be “it”.

This is another aspect of human nature which seems to be amplified in today’s society.

Or worse yet we will have certain elitist groups and/or individuals claiming to represent all other pagans as a whole. Sound familiar?

Or another thought may be to stop putting so much idle talk into creating a pagan community per se and instead put our efforts and energy into our individual groups in the form of teaching the tenets that are necessary to fully embrace paganism for what it can really be.

Perhaps by these worthwhile efforts we will create a pagan society by way of accomplishing that which is more readily attainable.

In effect, changing the mind set that is our own worst enemy and which may eventually lead to our downfall as a societal accepted belief system.

Such an approach has worked for centuries prior to the onset of neo paganism. Why change that which is not broke in favor of something that may well be unattainable and which is for the most part based upon a concept that doesn't work for paganism?

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By Crick

© 2008

Since most folks who identify themselves as pagan these days came from other belief systems, I have to wonder about the awareness of some of the basic aspects of magick. One of these basic aspects is the power of the spoken word.

What, you may ask, the spoken word carries power?

Well, think about it. When we do ritual we use the spoken word. When we do invocations and evocations we use the spoken word. When we cast magickal spells (energy work) we use the spoken word. And in fact, in some Circles folks enhance the spoken word by using what is known as the “God voice”. This is a technique where we draw a well of power from deep within our souls to forcefully convey the spoken word. This technique is similar to what a martial artist does when they draw their “chi” or “ki” forth.

For those who engage themselves in witchcraft, we use the spoken word to cast forth a curse or a blessing. I’m sure that other magickal paths probably do so as well, but I am writing from my own personal area of knowledge or comfort zone if you will.

And so obviously the spoken word contains a great deal of power within a magickal setting.

And the belief in the power of the spoken word is not confined to just the current New Age thinking, but is in fact an ancient and accepted tenet of magick.

One example in support of this belief which can be found from times of old is in the Lebor Gabala Erren (Book of Invasions).

As a rather brief background; during the first battle of the Magh Tuiredh, Nuada, the High King of the Tuatha De Danann lost his right arm in battle against the Fir Bolg warrior, Sreng mac Sengainn. The Tuatha De Danann had a code of honor in place that stated when a king became blemished he had to abdicate his position, for he was no longer considered fit to rule.

As a result, the half Tuatha De Danann, half Fomorian prince, Bres mac Elatha, was elevated to the position of High King. It was hoped that because of his mixed heritage that he would bring a lasting peace between the Danann and the Fomorians. However he turned out to be a very oppressive and spiteful king of the Tuatha De Danann.

After a short period of time, the Tuatha De Danann whom was suffering from the injustice of their High King turned to a trained Satirist named “Corbre“. The Druids of the time (and perhaps even to this day) had certain Druids who were trained in the magickal arts of the spoken word (satirists). By way of this magickal art they could inflict emotional, mental and even physical damage to their intended victims, regardless of their position in life.

As a result, Corbre was able to successfully inflict such damage on Bres, thus forcing him to abdicate his throne. While these events were taking place Nuada had his missing arm replaced with one made of silver by the Tuatha De Danann physician known as Dian Cecht. The son of Dian Cecht; “Miach” then transformed the silver arm back to flesh, thus allowing Nuada to regain his position as High King of Ireland.

And so as you can see from this proffered example, the spoken word does in fact have magickal powers. And if it can be used to bring down a High King of a noble race of Gods, how does this power affect the average person?

Many conversations these days almost always touches upon on how the world village is spiraling ever downwards. It is no secret that we are inundated by an ocean of negative energy which by all accounts is of our own making and is thus our problem to own.

I personally believe that much of this negative energy comes from the frequent and irresponsible use of the spoken word.

Think about it, how many times a day will you be the recipient of someone’s negative comments?

How many times in a day, a week, a month will you direct such negative energy at someone else?

And how often do folks stop and think, wow, perhaps I shouldn’t conjure up and direct such words of power without giving some thought as to the consequences of ones actions?

Judging from the ocean of negative energy that is choking the life out of society, I would presume that such careful considerations does not happen nearly enough.

The world village has descended to a level where instantaneous use of such a basic, yet powerful magickal tool is now the norm. For the most part, folks simply do not hesitate to vocalize a disparaging comment at someone else. Sending this negative energy out without any consideration of responsibility and/or awareness of what such energy, once manifested, might do to the recipient.

Now, as pagans, it is our responsibility to be aware of such a basic and yet powerful form of magick. It is our responsibility to use such power in a manner that is beneficial to both ourselves as individuals and to those around us.

We often pontificate about wanting to set a higher example by way of our spiritual pursuits and to make a difference in this worn out world of ours. Well, this is one basic way to do just that.

Just by being aware of the power of the spoken word and by applying such awareness and knowledge, we can stop just talking (sorry about the pun) about it and actually contribute some positive energy to a world village that is crying out for such a change. By being keenly aware of what we say to others and how we say it, we are in effect taking some simple and yet effective steps towards setting a higher example for others to follow. By showing such responsibility, we are exhibiting an alternative to the self centered, “it’s all about me” quagmire that our society has slipped into.

Of course as a simple Irish witch I realize that such an obvious and yet challenging change won’t happen overnight. But as a diehard optimist, I firmly believe that each journey begins with the first step. And who better to start such a journey then those who strive to understand and thus effectively use the magickal arts within their lives?

Isn't this is what individual responsibility is supposed to be all about?

Writers Bio:

Crick is the founder and High Priest of Whispering Woods, a Celtic/Faery witchcraft coven. Master Geomancer, certified Master Herbalist and 3rd. Level Usui Ryoko Reiki and Sechim Master. Crick frequently writes articles for Green Egg, Witchvox and Celtic Whispers.

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by Crick

© 2008

When two or more folks get together, the conversation inevitably turns to modern society and how decadent it has become. It’s no secret that since the early 1980’s the morals and principles we once took for granted are now nearly non-existent. This decline is not limited to the United States, though the US is the standard bearer for such a decline, it is now clearly evident all around this world of ours. We now live in a world society that is extremely self centered and in many aspects is quite artificial in relation to spiritual reality. The human population has raped much of Mother Earth to the point where she is starting to fight back by such means as global warming and of the dreadful consequences that such an adverse reaction brings. We as a species have become extremely arrogant and self serving in many different aspects in regards to the me, me, me, society that we now endure.

As a witch, I am constantly in search of answers to such a downwards spiral in societal values, which are no longer limited to a certain geographic area or population, but which now affect what is in essence a world-wide village.

Having practiced mysticism for nearly five decades, one would think that one possible solution is self evident. And that is that in general, Pagans should consider using magick or energy work as it is known by some to help counter balance the massive amount of negative energy that our self indulged human population has brought upon this weary planet. However this lends itself to several wakeup calls as it were.

The most obvious is the fact that a society has to have certain influences in place for it to go one way or the other. The Roman Empire found this out when they went down the path of self absorption and personal satisfaction at any cost. To my mind the two most obvious influences in place during their rapid decline and indeed during our own times were and are politics and organized religion. I personally see both of these institutions as the same animals but with different names. In my view, I see both of these concepts as implements of control over the population. And when such devises are allowed to proceed unfettered, well the results are fairly evident.

A simple example of this is trying to drive down an interstate anywhere in the world while doing the posted speed limit. You will need more then two hands to count the number of middle fingers that will be directed your way. Or else you will be gritting your teeth as some moron attaches themselves to your rear bumper. Which may in some cases, prompt you to return the gesture of the ever popular middle finger.

Such a decline in self respect and indeed, respect for others has come about because in part, these two institutions, which affect virtually every aspect of ones life are themselves in rapid decline. The power of the few has become the focus and priority over the needs of the many.

And in most instances, these institutions work side by side. There is no realistic separation of the two. You may have doubts about this but ask yourself this, can someone who is openly pagan ever become a president or prime minister of a country in our life time? Or even in two lifetimes?

The next thought that comes to mind is far less apparent and again it is in part because of the overt influences of these two institutions.

We now find ourselves in a period that some call the New Age. Where there were once small covert groups of folks quietly and secretly practicing their mystical spirituality, there are now droves of folks who for the most part find them seeking a level of spiritual satisfaction that was unattainable in conjunction with their former beliefs.

What was once for the most part a secret society practicing under a repressive and at times a dangerous state of organized religion and its partner, politics, has now become available to everyone. The internet has of course been the main contributor to opening the floodgates.

And as an undesirable side effect, we now have a deluge of 20 and 30 something’s who crow to the world about how they are masters of this or that discipline. It is the lack of discipline in a society that thrives on instant gratification that concerns me the most.

After 2000 years of blatant repression and a concerted effort by organized religion and their political partners to cloud the minds of folks to the mystical arts and all of its possibilities, well, I seriously doubt that there are any true masters of the mystical arts left in this world. This is not to say that there are not Adepts around who have devoted their lives to the magickal arts. They are around, but I personally think that for the most part they shy away from the pagan community in general. There are far too many issues such as bloated egos and drama for such adepts to take an interest in anything outside of their own comfort zones. And this is quite understandable.

These folks focus on what really matters in their lives to the exclusion of all of the emotional detritus that so many folks seem to savor in place of a more meaningful reality.

And so if my personal assumptions are correct, that there are no masters of the arts, currently living and that the small number of adepts that are around tending to avoid the morass of drama that characterizes the pagan community, what does that leave us?

The pseudo masters who have lived but a third of their expected lifetimes?

The reality may upset some folks, but many folks who now call themselves pagan, continue to put artificial material needs ahead of the reality of spiritual growth.

After some twenty plus years of teaching the mystical arts the one thing that stands out clearly is that many folks do not have the patience and/or discipline to apply themselves to the demands of the mystical arts. And this lack of substance affects the quality of magickal and/or energy work. An example of this is visualization. This is a basic tenet of energy work. And yet after two centuries of suppression, it is one of the most difficult aspects for a new comer to the magickal arts to learn. Reading auras is another basic tenet of the magickal arts which at one time was as basic as taking a breath. And yet I have personally met very few folks who can see that which is present quite clearly in their minds eye.

But then the purpose of this treatise is not to judge or criticize folks. Rather it is to raise awareness of where we are today as a mystical community.

Even if we could put aside our numerous ego issues and myriad differences, could we as pagans make a difference in the world using magick as we currently know and understand it?

Do we have the inner strength to admit that perhaps we don’t know all there is to know about the Craft and to find the discipline to get back to where we were prior to the predatory intervention of organized religion and its ever present arm of enforcement known as politics?

Can we attain the level of maturity necessary in time to make a difference in this decadent world society that we so often lament about but then do nothing of substance to change it?

In closing I would like to say that as an old man and old witch, I don’t see this change taking place in what is left of my life in this realm. But like many of you I also have children who will have to endure the spoils of our bitter crop. And while I don’t have the answers to the questions asked here, I do have hopes for your children and mine. And that hope is that enough of our children will wake up and see what is happening to Mother Earth and her denizens by the hand of her very own children. It is my hope that those of us who raise our children in the pagan ways will inspire them to seek a deeper sense of understanding then what we now see in the world village.

And that they will find the discipline and patience to become effective tools of such a badly needed change in the current waves of negative energy that is sweeping us ever closer to repeating the mistakes of the ancient Romans and indeed other ancient and perhaps not so ancient civilizations.

If not, then what is the alternative? 

Of course there are some individuals who do make small contributions to try and balance the ocean of negative energy that grips this world, such undesired energy that we ourselves are responsible for. But when one takes a look at the insanity that passes for society, it obviously is not near enough. It will take the concerted effort of many, many more folks to bring us back to a semblance of sanity and quality of life for ourselves and our children.

And of course there are those who will sit on their laurels and say that such self imposed insanity is the natural way of humans. And to that lame assumption I once again point to the unfettered amassing of power by politicians and their partners, organized religion. These two institutions simply love such apathy by the very folks they seek to control. And so the downwards spiral continues…

Writers Bio:

Crick is the founder and High Priest of Whispering Woods, a Celtic/Faery witchcraft coven. Master Geomancer, certified Master Herbalist and 3rd. Level Usui Ryoko Reiki and Sechim Master. Crick frequently writes articles for Green Egg, Witchvox and Celtic Whispers.

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by Ishamael

The Greek mythology has many facets. It entertains us with its picturesque details. It inspires our poets and story tellers. It explains the mysteries of the universe through the beautiful stories. But most importantly, the Greek myths give us an insight into our own nature. They teach us how to act, and not to act, in order to be happy. The following series of articles purports to analyze, from an unconventional, and at times humorous, standing point, several Greek ideas which are still relevant in the modern times.

Breaking the Patterns

Uranus, Zeus’ grandfather was a very bad parent. He put his personal happiness above that of his family and incarcerated all of his children in his body. He was afraid to allow them any autonomy, so that he wouldn’t be deposed from his lofty position of a ruler.

Chronos, which many sources mention as Zeus’ father, and Uranus’ offspring, became a tyrant in his own right. He, who suffered from parental abuse and should have known better, repeated the mistake of his sire.  Worried about his continuing leadership he chose to meticulously control his own children. He ate all of his sons, and was planning to keep them inside for all eternity.

Zeus, a son of an abusive father, and a grandchild of a tyrant, broke the chain. A few unflattering comments can be made about his character, but one thing was clear. Among the uncountable numbers of children he had, he loved everyone. Not once has it crossed his mind to limit their freedom out of fear for his own leadership. Even though his male side of the family trained him in the tradition of abuse, Zeus found inside the courage to rise above the circumstances. He judged his children according to their behavior, rather than the perceived threat. His relationship with the two godly children sufficiently illustrates this assertion. The ruler of gods disliked his son Ares for his militant character, and favored his daughter Athena, even though she objectively posed a greater threat to Zeus’ own dominion aided by her unfathomable wisdom.

From a numerological point of view then, Zeus' primary number is 6. He in many ways represents the ideal parent, who gives his children exactly what they need, rather than what they want. Ares, the god of aggressiveness, always demanded some kind of war from his father. Most parents would be too worried to refuse the requests of their beloved offspring. To them, denial of the child’s desire might indicate their failure in the parental duty. The case is different for those who have a 6 in their number. They wisely conclude that sometimes temperance is the best method of education. Zeus came to this conclusion during the Trojan War, when his blood thirsty son required more and more casualties to satisfy his enormous hunger for pain. The elder god knew that total freedom would ruin Ares, encouraging him in the unhealthy appetite until it was too late to turn back, and so he refused his request. Even while concerned about the tension between himself and Ares, the greatest of gods still made the right choice, as the ‘6’ archetype of parent often does.

In his actions, Zeus hence exemplifies the most balanced approach to breaking the patterns. He went away from the automatically negative attitude towards his children, but he equally rejected the temptation of overindulgence. Many a parent, raised in strict families themselves, will compensate for it by extreme lenience towards their children. Not so the master of the gods. He escaped the tyranny in himself, and the possible weakness. He didn’t have any role models among the elder gods, and yet, managed to develop a well rounded and utterly balanced personality.

None of us, regular mortals, can ever hope to match the divine entity with its numerous powers. But his most significant, emotional strength is in our hands. If we choose to use it. This is indeed the crucial factor. While we yearn for the freedom of choice and are willing to fight for it, we are often afraid to make the really important choices, if they differ from the familiar.

The choice doesn’t have to imply any physical action. It might be just an inward decision to change. A simple resolution to act differently would do, if it is likely to improve the situation. It is an incredibly great feeling to believe that we can change our own position. Why wouldn’t we do then just about anything to bring an improvement?

Possibly, because the deviation from the standard is emotionally uncomfortable. That is the reason we would rather perpetuate the bad habits and pass them from generation to generation, than stop and objectively consider them. In fact, many of us use our upbringing as an excuse to keep making the mistakes. We are only humans, so it is understandable, we claim to our inner critic and to others. We are right too, on both accounts. But wouldn’t it be better, in spite of our mortality, to embrace the greatest power of an immortal god, and change ourselves for the better? After all, our greatest right is not provided on a golden platter by our heavenly or earthly father, our government, or the United Nations. It is the right to be happy. We have this right from birth, unconditionally, no matter who we are, and only we ourselves can exercise that greatest of rights.

In the long run, Zeus’ emotional discomfort at getting away from the tradition was only momentary. His happy relationship with his children lasted forever and it was the direct result of his actions. He made sure, all by himself, to satisfy the strongest of his needs. His greatness, therefore, didn’t depend on any supernatural, undeserved powers. Essentially, he is as strong as we are, or as weak as we are, for he represents the human ideal. And if he broke away from the negative patterns, so can we.

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By Nyna Shtern

As a metaphysical worker and healer, I work closely with stones and crystals.  To me they are wise beings who know much more than we mere mortals as they've been around for so very long.

I wanted to share a special story with you all about an amber elder friend of mine. He was given into my care by a very good friend who has cats. She was afraid this lovely elder would get knocked off a table and broken so passed him to me. I was totally awed and flattered. He is magnificent!  He's a freeform shape, highly polished, and about 5 or 6 inches long by three inches tall by roughly 2 and a half inches wide!  He is a real breath taker!  I was totally happy to have him in my home, and he has been a great friend.  Still, he's taught me a wonderful lesson. I am not sure if I should say taught, as I already knew it, but as it is a tough one, it helps to be reminded, and he is a living reminder.  It is about breaking/changing, and how it gives us new opportunities. How something may seem bad, but it depends on how you look at it. The thing may instead be a good reason for many new opportunities and adventures. 

When I first got him he arrived in this lovely leather bag with tassels on it. I kept him wrapped in it to keep him from breaking. I wished to treat him with the best care.  As often I tend to do when I go out somewhere I wanted to take an earth elder along with us when my sis and a few friends went to the mall.  I took this amber in his bag where he should've been safe.  I was walking across the parking lot of the mall with his bag in my hand, when suddenly and somehow I still don't know how it happened, he jumped out of the bag or slipped out or something, and crashed onto the sidewalk. Needless to say I was quite upset and blamed myself for unusual carelessness though I didn't see how it could've happened. Only a small sliver of him broke off, but I still felt awful and apologized to him over and over. He was fine about it, though.  Didn't seem shaken at all. I made a pendant for a friend out of the small sliver that came off and a jeweler friend of mine smoothed down the jagged bit so he looked as if nothing had happened to him.

Well that was 3 years ago, and after that, as he was okay, I thought nothing else of it. Nothing save I didn't risk taking him out again. I kept him in his bag still, to keep him protected. I still took other elders out, but not him after that scare.  Of late has been a quite busy time for me.  We had some friends down for the holidays from out of town. It was quite fun, but during the visit a table of earth elders got knocked over.  You all surely know how fragile fluorite is. There was a green fluorite point elder there that did not suffer a scratch. He was in no protective bag, but was fine. So were all the other elders. Only my large lovely amber, still in his protective bag, broke cleanly.  I was shocked and dismayed. He is still rather large, though. He broke in a way that 2 thirds of the large bit is there so one third broke neatly off. Still the one third is a big enough chunk to hold in a fist and then some.  I was crying and holding the pieces and apologizing to them for not moving the table into my bedroom from the front room. The guests had accidentally knocked it over, but I felt it was my fault for not moving the bloody table when I'd thought of it.  I simply didn't think any mishap would happen.  *sighs*  But once more the amber felt fine. One bit was a bit more chatty than the other, that was the one third, but the other one just felt naturally more quiet, but still well enough.  They both then wanted to be standing pieces instead of a large lying down amber.  It worked as the way it broke left flat bits that they could stand on end.  Tonight my husband, my sis, and I went out for smoothies at a local doughnut shop. It is a nice little walk as it is near our apartment complex so I took the smaller bit of the amber along in a pocket as he expressed the wish to tag along.  He told me that breaking gave him more freedom. He is no longer in that protective bag, and he gets to go out. He seemed rather smug. *smiles* So it made me wonder if perhaps he'd meant to jump out of that bag years ago as well. Took two breaks to give me the message or to get it done right or whatever.  I am not so sad about it now.  The amber never was. On the day a few weeks ago when he broke and I was crying, he told me not to fret. He said he'd already been taken from the tree he grew in. He said, "This is not my original shape anyway. My original shape was being part of the tree. I was cut from it so what is being broken again? Not a big deal at all. I lost nothing, so do not be sad."

He feels that his situation allows him more opportunities and now I understand that. When I have something happen that tosses me on an ear, he'll be a standing memory to that lesson. I always know it to be true, but it is hard to remember when you're in the midst of something bad. I write this in hopes that it speaks to you in the way it spoke to me.

In love,

Nyna Shtern

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by Clea Danaan

I wanted him so badly, it was like my heart strained from my ribcage, trying desperately to hold him to me. Yet somehow my intense desire and love for this man lead me off the cliff of everyday want. I stepped into the void of being disconnected from the outcome: I loved him, but he was not mine to claim. He was his own person, with his own fate. I loved him so, I emotionally let him go, to follow whatever path might bloom before him.

Today I am married to him.

I wanted so dearly to find a home for my book. If only I could find a publisher! If only all my hard work, love, and desire to bring healing into the world could manifest in the form of a real life book. I sent off the manuscript, again, again, and because I wanted an acceptance so badly, I just let it go. My desire snapped the strings of control. It was out of my hands.

Today my published book sits next to my desk.

Whenever I saw a pregnant woman or a baby, my womb hurt, like a cavernous ache, a longing to be filled. My arms ached to cradle my own babe. My partner was not sure he wanted children. My moon blood came month after month. Again, my desire broke my clinging to a certain outcome like a diva’s tone shatters a glass.

My daughter just celebrated her second birthday.

Most of the time I am not very good at letting go. Terrible, in fact. I plan obsessively, lying awake at night, thinking. I write lists. Journals. Emails. I rearrange the living room in my mind, draw up plans for the remodel we cannot currently afford. I decide what I’ll cook for dinner at nine in the morning. I get an idea, I research it online till my eyes hurt.

But when I really desire some thing that I absolutely cannot control, yet cannot bare the thought of its not manifesting, I let go. I wrap my dreams into a mental balloon, and send it off to the Goddess to take care of. When I fell in love with my husband, I made a little shrine to partnership in the Love and Relationship corner of my bedroom. I left it vague – I wanted a partner. The Right partner. I knew it wasn’t really up to me if that partner were this man I happened to adore. I had to let go of the outcome, simply because I wanted one thing so badly, but could not control what came to be. So I put two red candles and pictures of lovebirds in the corner. I nestled hope and trust in my heart next to doubt and longing.

When I wanted a baby, I held in my future mind two equal possibilities: holding my child, and never conceiving. I made myself not buy tiny t-shirts, but I let myself look, and dream. 

With my book, I knew that many writers never find a home for their work, yet giving up did not feel like an option. So I kept sending it out, and asking for guidance, and revising, and trusting, and fearing all at the same time.

Somehow holding the dialectic of possible outcomes, and trusting that what will be will be, is what is required to manifest something. To manifest, we walk a razor of All Possibilities. It is not up to me what happens, really. It is up to me to put the desire out there, and do whatever I can to open to possibility on my end. I went on lunch dates with my man. I repeatedly sent out my manuscript. I took prenatal vitamins. But in order to retain my sanity, I had to let the happening, the details of outcome, be filled in my the Powers that Be. In my letting go of the details, I made a space in my life for something to enter: love, book, baby.

Wanting, planning, and clinging to control must take up a lot of space in one’s energy field. The lists pile up, the plans take up whole rooms of mental space. They keep me awake at night, fill the car with words as I drive down the street, and hang off my body like extra shopping bags. When desire gets strong enough, though, those bags get too heavy. The chatter gets too loud. Enough! I scream, and drop the bags in River Letgo. Suddenly I have all this room in my energetic body, room for something new to step in and say hello.

The act of letting go is never easy. Certain things feel a little stickier. I want very much, for instance, to pay off my credit cards. How can I possibly let go of an attachment to paying them off? Letting go of the possibility of Paying Them Off seems irresponsible. Was letting go of a possible partnership with my love irresponsible? Not really. Then why is it so different with something like debt? It seems to have something to do with love. I could let go of this man, the baby, my manuscript, because I loved those things. I could entrust them to the Goddess. Can I learn to love debt? To love money, which for most of my life has just caused worry and pain?

It seems I must, on some level. Learn to love my demons. I must learn to love, not fear, the possibility of financial success, for example. If I can learn somehow to love my debt and my debtors on a deep level of acceptance and flow, perhaps then I can let go of my energetic attachment to that debt, and miracles will manifest to eliminate those bills. When I make room for love of money, instead of fear of money, perhaps then I can live in trust, and love, and all will fall into place. I admit, however, that I am not there yet. Perhaps letting go of berating myself for not figuring it all out is part of the equation, too.

Space, love, acceptance, release. These seem to be the tools of manifestation. Yet when we want something, those are often terribly diaphanous qualities, dancing just out of reach. Some magic of trust must occur. All will be well. All will fall into place.

How do we reach that space? My best guess is by becoming still, and tapping into immutable love within. That is my connection with Goddess, and from that space I can accept, and trust. The paradox is that by reaching for trust, I fall into the trap of trying to grasp at trust. Instead, I have to let go of planning and following directions. I have to just leap. Step off the cliff of wanting, and let the wind take me where it will. This is why we do ritual when we desire something, whether that be a lover or a new outlook on life. Dancing in sacred space brings us into intimacy with the Goddess and our own inner wisdom. From there we can let go of control and make space for the numinous to dance with us.

***

Clea Danaan is the author of Sacred Land: Intuitive Gardening for Personal, Political & Environmental Change (Llewellyn, 2007). She lives in Colorado with her daughter, husband, and two spoiled cats. Visit her at http://www.IntuitiveGardening.net.

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The development of German Christmas Customs from Pagan times to Christianity and beyond

(c) Guinevra 2006

We all know about the 12 holy nights. But the customs connected with them are very different. In England I saw for each of those 12 nights love verses.

The German custom is very different. The 12 holy nights were dedicated to Wotans wild hunting’s. And that goes back to pagan times, but people feared the wrath of Wotan far into Christianity, so this custom and belief lingered till recent times. Even in my family it was followed so long my grandmother lived, and that was until far into the second half of the 20th century.

Wotan had all knights who dyed during a fight taken up to Walhalla by the Valkyries. There they lived together with the Nordic Gods and Goddesses (the Asen) and the war maidens (Valkyries) the same life as they were used to on earth: Feasting, drinking, combats and all the merriments that was enjoyed during their lifetime on earth, only at a more grand scale and they were immortal. But they all knew, they would have to fight Ragnaröck at the end of times, the last fight of Good against Evil. The outcome of this fight was and is uncertain, pagan Gods were not all-knowing as in later times the Christian God proclaimed for himself. All these knights enjoyed Walhalla with the knowledge, that in this last fight they would perish.

German Christmas customs are connected with one of these knights. So Knecht Ruprecht, a rather stern and serious man, brought gifts at Holy Eve to good children, the bad ones received some hits with the twig of a tree.

Legends tell us how that happened. One of the greatest merriments for Wotan and his knights was the yearly big wild hunt during the 12 holy nights. And nothing was permitted to block their ways, so the putting up of washing lines during these 12 nights and days was forbidden because the horses could stumble over these lines. I remember that in our family we never washed anything during those 12 holy nights, even when our lines were in the attic and not like in past times on poles at the back of a house or at the village green. After the war that was a real challenge, as we had really not enough clothes to change, when they were dirty. But somehow we managed. Even in these modern times it was calling bad luck into a home, if one washed and put up the wash for drying. And to be honest, I follow that custom till today. I have a washing machine but no dryer, so I dry my wash on lines in the bathroom, and I would never dare to do that in these 12 nights.

I told already, that any man, who died in a fight, was taken to Walhalla. Men who died in their beds of old age or disease went into Hel's empire that could be compared with the Greek underworld and was a sad place to stay. So most of the inhabitants of Walhalla were knights. But as each man who died in a fight went to Walhalla and in those cruel times also serfs or craftsmen died fighting for their homes or against the enemies of their Lords or the attack of marauders, who were numerous, so they too were fetched by the Valkyries to Walhalla.

For one year’s wild hunt during the 12 holy nights, Wotan included a man named Ruprecht. I suppose he was no knight. (The word Knecht means serf in English). As he did not enjoyed the hunt very much, he fell behind ever more and so lost Wotan and his hunters completely.

He more stumbled than rode forward and felt miserable. It was a harsh winter, without the excitement of the hunt he began to freeze, asked himself how he ever could find the way back to Walhalla and how Wotan would react to his failing during the hunt. When his misery was nearly unbearable he suddenly saw a light from a lonely small farmhouse. He looked into the window and saw a fire in the stove, a young couple – the husband mending some farm gear, the wife preparing a meal - and a small boy playing with some of the logs, that were ready besides the stove to feed the fire.

The peaceful scene was luring him and he entered the small house. Of course the couple was terrible frightened. They knew he could be only one of Wotan's hunters, as nobody dared to go outside during these 12 nights. But the small boy was not terrified, but excited. The hunter looked gorgeous to him: The armour, the weapons and the unearthly power he radiated. So like any child, he was attracted. Ruprecht politely told the couple, that he had lost his way, was cold and hungry and asked if he could stay for a time to recover. Still afraid the couple invited him to share the fire and their meagre meal and the hunter accepted grateful.

But the night was long and Ruprecht got bored. So he took his hunting knife and a log and began to carve: horses and wagons and knights and gave his finished work to the boy, who never before in his life had a toy. Maybe Ruprecht was a carpenter before he joined Wotan and his knights at Walhalla.

The couple forgot their fright, tea was cooked and they spent together some amiable hours. They as well as Ruprecht just forgot about Wotan.

Suddenly the door was pushed open, Wotan stood at the threshold, full of wrath. Cold wind blasted into the room, horses whined, knights shouted and the couple fell onto their knees, awaiting and fearing the punishment for not being asleep during the night as was demanded too, so that nobody could see Wotan and his hunters.

But the hunt was good; Wotan was in high spirits and intended to go back to Walhalla as quick as possible, so that the spoil of the hunt could give them all a splendid feast. He came only to fetch back his lost hunter, Ruprecht.

Wotan was a just God most of the time and he had known, that Ruprecht was not really happy in Walhalla, feeling lost among all those fierce knights. That was the reason; Wotan had decided to take him along for that years hunt.

So he looked over the room, saw the frightened couple, the excited child surrounded by his carved toys and Ruprecht, who had just began to carve another horse, with a happy smile on his face. The first smile Wotan had seen from Ruprecht.

I told already, Wotan was most of the time a just God so he told Ruprecht, that he will have a different task in the future. He will give him a craft shop and for 1 year he has time to fashion toys for children. putting them into bags and during the holy nights he has to go from home to home and distribute the toys from his bag to children, who had behaved good during the year, the others were to be punished with some light hits from a tree’s twig and than had to prove that they had learned at last something in the past year and after that were to receive their gifts too.

Till today, the father or another family member in some families dress up as Knecht Ruprecht and hear the poems, songs, music, children perform under the Christmas tree and will get a slight hit with a twig, if some errors are made, before they receive their gifts.

I remember all of our families Holy Eves like this.

So this was the custom in Germany for many centuries. Christianity came rather late into these parts of the world and even than pagan customs lingered on in the Nordic countries, taken over as part of Christmas.

Holy Eve is the main day of Christmas in Germany till to day. Christian people attend a festive church service and after this the Christmas tree is lightened, children are admitted into the closed room with the Christmas tree, but cannot even look or opening their gifts before they give proof that they have learned something in the past year by singing a song, recite a poem or play on a music instrument.

And as I told already, in some families Knecht Ruprecht till to day is *visiting* and presents the children’s gifts.

This custom, added with some different Christian ones were followed generally in the Nordic part of Germany till some decades after WW II, when American ones by aggressive marketing and greedy merchants were slowly forced on us.

But many families, mostly the Lutheran ones, follow these Christmas customs till to day. Northern people are very stubborn, they were late in taking over Christianity, but one of the first to accept Luther's teachings, that was more to their taste than Roman Catholicism.

What was added by Christianity to these customs, especial in catholic parts of Germany, and how it came that we have Saint Nicolaus too, I will tell in Part II of this story.

A picture of Knecht Ruprecht can be found in the book *Struwwelpeter* from the children doctor Heinrich Hoffmann (1809-1894). To help the suffering children in his hospital ward, he wrote and painted a children book, and in one of the stories Knecht Ruprecht played a role. That book is loved by children till today.

II

Saint Nicolaus Day, 6th December, is a day, eagerly awaited by children in most German provinces. Before they go to sleep in the evening of the 5th, children put their careful cleaned shoes besides the door of the house or flat they live in. And I think no child ever oversleeps in the morning of the 6th of December, because they are impatient to know, what Saint Nicolaus has put into their shoes. Of course, these are small gifts, sweets mostly, of the special kind that is eaten only during Christmas times, and some small toys maybe. That has to fit into the shoes.

The custom is not limited to children. In many families all put out their shoes to be filled. 1 shoe for every person. Since the near past one can by special Nicolaus boots, made out of different material, from cardboard to porcelain. They are stored with the Christmas decorations and used only for this one special day.

The custom and the legends about Saint Nicolaus developed gradually, based on the life stories of 2 bishops with the Name of Nicolaus, both leading a truly saintly life and especial caring for the poor people in their surrounding. Folklore and miracle reports put them together and in peoples minds and believes they melted together into one person, despite both are in the official Saints calendar with their different biographies and about 200 years difference in their life times.

The first bishop Saint Nicolaus lived about 270 – 345 BC in Myra (today Demre in Turkey); he is too one of the 14 helpers in need and patron of seamens. Many tales about miracles, caring and helping are connected with him, but his real life is unknown and shrouded in mystery. Already 50 years after his death his fame as miracle worker spread, especial in the Eastern Church, that developed later into the Greek Orthodox Church.

He maybe died on the 6th of December as listed in the Saints calendar, and so this day evolved into our custom.

He existed as a historical person as well as bishop Nicolaus of Pinara in Lycia, who died on 10th December 564. The miracles told about him happened during the life of emperor Justinian (527-565) who ruled the Byzantine Empire successful, when West Rome already had broken down, conquered and sacked by barbarians.

Some of the legends tell about Saint Nicolaus love and caring for children, of saving a town from famine, of saving 3 young girls, giving each of them a golden ball, so they could avoid prostituting themselves to earn their dowry, as their father had demanded of them. He too resurrected a young man after he drowned and helped communities to prosper.

There is no possibility anymore to say precise, who of the two bishops did which miracle. Many countries made Saint Nicolaus patron of very different and divergent things and works. In Greece and all the Slavic countries, including Russia, Saint Nicolaus is the most worshipped Saint besides the Madonna.

East Rome with Byzanz as capital already formed about this time their own kind of Christianity and as both bishops lived and dyed inside that Empire, their worship is concentrated more in the Greek and Russian Orthodox Church.

Since the middle of the 8th century Saint Nicolaus acquired fame inside the Roman Catholic Church too, namely in Italy. So seamen from Bari in Italy robbed the tomb in Myra in April 1087 and brought Saint Nicolaus’ body to Bari, where Pope Urban II reburied him in the crypt of the Basilica San Nicola. So Bari evolved into the goal of pious pilgrims and the town profited hugely.

The cult of Saint Nicolaus spread transalpine through Europe, sponsored mainly through Teophanu, the Byzantine wife of the German emperor Otto II. Especially in merchant towns Saint Nicolas gained fame, as he was worshipped here too as protector of merchants as well as seamen. Till today about 4oo catholic churches in Germany are named after him, an exceptional famous one in Berlin, Capital of Prussia and now of Germany, where a whole quarter surrounding this beautiful church was called Nikolai-Viertel after this Saint. This is one of the oldest parts of my hometown.

Even the Russian town Minsk asked for a small relic of his body and received the gift this year from Switzerland. Which of the Saints body that came from is not so clear anymore. As I told, the legends melted together and made one person out of the 2 bishops.

The traditional exchanging of gifts at Christmas time is based on all the tales about Saint Nicolaus. It started about the 12th century around the 5th or 6th of December.

After Luther’s reformation some of the customs changed. Luther himself was against that tradition and replaced Saint Nicolaus with the Christ-Child as gift bringer, who too had this task in some parts of Christianity already. Luther eliminated Saint Nicolas as concurrence for Jesus and switched the date for the bringing of gifts to Holy Night, 24th of December. At first that happened only in Lutheran provinces and countries. The Roman Catholic Church with regional exceptions kept Saint Nicolaus. But even Luther could not prevent the continued worship of Saint Nicolaus, so the date of 6th December was given over to the custom of small gifts in 1 shoe for children.

In the middle of the 19th century his dresses were changed. From the saintly bishop with mitre and bishops wand, he now was clothed into a long coat with a kind of night-cup. That was partly based on a painting of Moritz von Schwind, called *Mr. Winter*.

A later painting, a caricature, done by Thomas Nast with the title *Merry old Santa Claus* was published at 1st January 1881 by Harpers weekly.

Christmas in Germany has more to offer than St. Nicolaus day with gifts put into shoes and Holy Night for another day of exchanging gifts with the pretext for children, that either the Christ-Child or Knecht Ruprecht brought these presents.

The 4 weeks before Christmas are called Advent (arrival) and starting with the 4th Sunday before Holy Night some special customs aroused too.

For these 4 weeks the Christian Church advised fasting, not so harsh as before Easter, but nonetheless it was done out of custom. So the Sundays were special, as for these the fasting was not valid.

In nearly every household we have an Advent Wraith; this is braided out of fir and adorned with ribbons, small Christmas balls, small angel figures etc. Each one adorns it to the own taste, even ready made bought ones, real fir or artificial ones, provide us with a real astonishing variety. The main feature that share all of them, are 4 thick candles. Starting with the 4th Sunday before Christmas family and/or friends gather for a small coffee- or tea party. Christmas music is played on the recorder, or if possible, there are songs or the playing of instruments. During this time one of the candles is lightened and burns for the time of the gathering. At the 3rd Sunday before Christmas the same happens, but besides relighting the first candle, a second one is lightened and both burn till the gathering ends. And so on over the second Sunday till the last, when all 4 candles are burned down.

In the last years one can buy equal wide but different high candles, so that at the 4th Sunday all have the same height and can burn out. The exceptions are the provinces Bavaria and Thuringia. There Christmas Pyramids are used; they have at the top 4 wings a scene from carved wood in one or two levels and 4 candles as well. The smoke of the candles turns the wings and so the whole pyramid is turning around. Some even play a Christmas song. These pyramids are hand carved, very expensive and often handed down over generations already. These very old pyramids are today very sought after collector items.

Another item we have in Advents time is an Advent calendar. In the past it was an elaborate printed piece of cardboard with a winter scene and 24 small numbered doors. For each day one door. These were gifts for children. Beginning with the 1st of December the first door was opened and behind them was a small scene, from winter mostly or something already a little bit connected with Christmas. Each day another of the doors was opened and another picture displayed. On the 24th December, Holy Night, the biggest window in the middle of that calendar, No. 24, displayed a nativity scene. This kind of calendars is very seldom now and mostly reprints of old ones, from about the turn of the 19th to the 20th century. Today’s calendars of course have not only pictures behind the windows. The calendar is thick; a box in reality and behind each window is a sweet or another small gift. Children today are not anymore content with looking at a beautiful picture.

Last year I found a very special reprint, a folding out calendar, with angels, Saints, animals behind each window, hanging on a cord and a kind of stand-up-3-D-nativity for No. 24, the Holy Night. We gave it to my partner’s granddaughter, and like in past times it is kept with the old Christmas ornaments to be used once more in the coming years.

And some more information you maybe not know. The first Christmas tree, without candles or adornments was used in Germany shortly after the 30 years religious wars ended. Later that custom spread, the first adornments were sweets or cookies, later in Lauscha in the province Thuringia a glass manufacture began to produce the first glass ornaments. The old ones are very sought after and fetch very high prices now. But even the products of today from Lauscha are very expensive, the glass ornaments are hand-blown and hand-painted.

In many families, where no bombs destroyed the homes during the war, these ornaments are handed down from generation to generation like the pyramids.

The first Christmas tree in Berlin was put up by Bettina von Arnim in her Salon, where the educated society met regularly for interesting discussions.

During a visit in the home of her husband in Germany, Queen Victoria saw one of these trees and brought the custom over to England. So it spread over the whole world, but the origin was in Germany.

Something more had its origin in Germany. The famous Christmas Song:*Silent Night, Holy Night*. For the Christmas Service in a small and poor village church in Bavaria the priest, Joseph Moor, born 1817 near Salzburg, and his organ player, Gruber, born 1787, looked for something special that would cost no money. So the priest wrote a poem and the organ player composed the music to that. They just intended to have a special song for their service and never dreamed that these simple words and melody would first spread over Germany into any church and home and from there with immigrants and visitors out into the whole world.

III

I intend to tell you now, how a pagan legend and the lives of 2 truly saintly bishops were used or better misused by Coca Cola to change folk legends and folk customs into a big advertisement hoax.

I told about German customs, but I know each European country had and in rural places has till to day similar or related customs. Town populations and of course shop owners, big or small, are very eager in merchandizing any feast to enhance their profits.

The population of rural parts in any country in contrast cling to their old customs and habits more fiercely. The question one has to ask is, how long will they or their children are able to protect all these different feasts against the greed of all the international companies, who made over each feast, being it local or international, into one mix in the big cauldron of money making.

It is so profitable to delete local customs, so that the entire world will buy only a limited variety of festive ornaments and foods for each feast and not anymore the manifold local specialities. 1931 designed Haddon Sandblom for the advertisement of Coca Cola an ugly fat grinning Santa Claus, based on Thomas Nast's caricature *Merry old Santa Claus*, published 1st January 1881 in Harpers Weekly. All following pictures are based on Sandblom’s design.

Knecht Ruprecht, the serious knight of Wotan, who knew he would have to endure the last fight of Good against Evil, Ragnarök, not sure if he will live to see the better and peaceful world, that in this pagan legend will replace our war ridden civilisation after a hart won victory; 2 truly saintly bishops, famous for their good works and helping people to overcome poverty, for miracles during their lifetime and more miracles after their death, are now replaced by a caricature created for the sole purpose, to attract more customers for a soft drink.

And it did not stopped with that. In the wake of the American occupation troops came the supermarkets and department stores, which destroyed not only our shops but even more customs, which belonged to our Christmas.

It is surely not known in other countries, especial overseas, that in Germany nearly all shops are closed on Sundays. Exceptions for a limited sale of some merchandizes are only in airports, train stations and petrol stations for gas.

In connection with this law we had another Christmas custom. During Advent time the last 3 Sundays before Christmas, shops were permitted to open from noon to 8 p.m. These Sundays were called: Copper Sunday, Silver Sunday and Golden Sunday.

The most important one was Copper Sunday, 3 weeks before Christmas. The reason? Another custom that was never broken for almost 1 century. Copper Sunday was the first day before Christmas, when shops adorned their shop windows for Christmas and began to sell all Christmas related items. I remember as a child and even as a young woman, I could barely await that day. At noon, some minutes before opening time, shadows and curtains were drawn back from the shop windows and we could admire the fanciful Christmas decorations each shop had. There was no merchandize in these windows, only beautiful decorations, as each shop tried to outshine the neighbour shop. There were old and cherished nativities in the windows, fairy tale scenes, Knecht Ruprecht, angels, the precious glass Christmas balls and figurines from Lauscha, placed on a small or big Christmas tree, depending on the windows size, together with electric candles. Real trees, nobody of us had ever seen a fake one at that time. All these decorations belonged to the shop owners, who kept them safe year after year. This too was the first day when it was permitted to sell all the special Christmas sweets: Spekulatius, Dominosteine, Printen, heart sized Lebkuchen, chocolates formed like Knecht Ruprecht, wrapped in glitter paper simulating his clothes, Lebkuchen too formed like Ruprecht with a picture of him pasted on that cookie and Dresdner Stollen. (Sorry, there is no possibility to translate the names of these sweets).

Most bakeries made their own. Expensive shops bought them in Nuremberg, the town that is famous for the best tasting Christmas sweets and equal famous for the best Christmas market in Germany.

Of course, the Christmas markets opened on Copper Sunday too. Each village, each town, small or big, had its own Christmas market. Advent songs were played in the shops and at the market.

The real Christmas-Songs like *Silent Night, Holy Night* and some more, were only played at Holy Night and the 2 following days.

That was all really like heaven, the first bite into a Spekulatius after one year of abstinence, all the beautiful things to see and the careful choice, what to buy, because money was scare, but anyone had saved to buy something on these 3 Sundays.

And the Christmas market, filled with music, stalls with more of the sweets added by mulled wine or tea for the children. Old merry go rounds with hand carved and hand paintend horses and coaches, dragons and other fancy animals, hand organs, little games to win small Christmas gifts, and the stall owners let the children win, even if they were not so lucky to have a hit with a ball or at another game.

I loved Christmas And now I hate it!

The change came slowly, but each year we lost more. Christmas sweets fill the shelves of Supermarkets already in the first days of September, window decorations from plastic, which goes into the trash. But most supermarkets have pasted their windows closed with advertisements, they have no space anymore for a beautiful display. Christmas songs blaring already in November so loud, one cannot understand one word anymore. That fat Santa Claus is everywhere, pictures of him pasted besides the merchandize he tries to lure people to buy.

Students in disguise, with cushions to make them fat, trying to herd people into supermarkets and department stores, all kind of Kitsch decorated with Santa Claus, even bed linen.

When Christmas is there at last, adults as well as children are fed up with all of it.

No wonder so many Germans now travel over Christmas into warm countries, preferable Islamic ones, to escape that nightmare, which once was a cherished and eager awaited holy feast.

We were never used to such aggressive marketing and advertising. It came above us in the wake of the American occupation troops. Why could they not keep their customs for themselves instead of destroying ours year by year ever more?

Christmas is turned over into a big money making event to feed the profit greed of shareholders.

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By GEVRAH SIDHE

From the very beginning, from the instant that awareness is made of our existence in the world it begins. We are shaped for better or worse by the thoughts of others. When our essence merges with cell and the young mother knows she is with child she begins either tending her womb for a healthy child or failing to care in avoidance of a mistake she made.

We assume we can be our own person but we are touched by so many thoughts that it is near impossible. As the child grows the parents project their expectations on them for a life better than theirs, not wrong mind you but when that child fails to meet these expectations the path laid before them the damage begins. The sit down, stand up straight, color in the lines, mentality breaks them. And starts changing what could have been into what is and will be.

Another follower, another one doing what those before say because they are made to feel like they are not as worthy if this doesn’t occur. For example the parent who grooms a child to be a lawyer, pushing that child in a straight line avoiding all abilities and ideas that child might have on their own dissolves the possibilities that child could have been even better that that, not by profession per say but by the person themselves.

Every where we go people judge us based on who they are and their likes, dislikes etc, they can’t just let you be the being you were brought forth into the world. I am not sure if it is every on purpose. Every time someone is attacked or challenged in their life it sets a finger print that even if they don’t realize it is there, over time these mold into things that change who they are. This then sets a cyclical reaction because the build up of these finger prints have to be wiped off somewhere and it is usually onto someone else’s making it continue with no ending.

I can think of maybe 5 people in my whole life that have been their own person and only wanted to offer themselves to others no strings attached, no judgment, no fear of rejection, until we can begin to take back our own lives and find our selves we will do this to someone else without knowing it.

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by Julie Desrosiers

When I was growing up in a Catholic household, the concept of fasting was a familiar one. Each year, twice a year, we would regularly give up something that we enjoyed- usually food- in order to atone for our sins and cleanse our spirits for the upcoming holy days of Easter or Christmas. When I became a Pagan, and no longer ascribed to the concepts of sin, hell or the devil, fasting and deprivation no longer seemed necessary. Of course, there were times that I fasted, for example during my Wiccan initiations, but the purpose of the fast was less esoteric, being designed to deprive me of calories and set my body and mind into a suggestive state.

As I became more and more involved in building my own spiritual practice, incorporating shrines and daily devotionals, it occurred to me that I was missing something. The Sabbats were being celebrated with feasts and splendour, and the in-between times filled with the minutiae of mundane life. I realized what was lacking was the lack of things. I was craving some balance within the bounty of my life, and became more interested in fasting as a means of finding that balance. A part of me questioned whether this was simply my catholic upbringing, and whether fasting was not in fact contradictory to neo-pagan spiritual practice. After all, are not all acts of love and pleasure worship?

So the question then became: why should a pagan fast? For a start, there is the effect of balancing. Although almost all religions today incorporate it into their worship in some fashion, there is little evidence to suggest that our pre-Christian ancestors practised fasting. However, it is also likely that our ancestors were never exposed to the enormous wealth of resources, particularly foods, which are available to us in this day and age. The majority of us in the West are so accustomed to having food at our immediate disposal, we take it for granted. By fasting, we become more conscious of the food we eat, and better appreciate the times of plenty, having experienced a time of want. In essence, the period of fasting helps to balance out the numerous periods of feasting in the cycle of the year.

Besides balance, there are several other reasons why fasting could be beneficial for modern-day pagans. Perhaps the most obvious purpose is the loosening of the ties that bind us to the mundane, physical world.  This is the most common reason given for fasts associated with rituals or shamanic journeys. The light-headedness and light body-ness that comes with prolonged fasting is very effective at enhancing the connections with the ethereal world of the spirits. Similarly, fasting functions to cleanse and purify the spirit and the body, in taxing the body less, and taking the spirit’s focus away from the body and its desires.  Of course, to deny one-self requires discipline. In a belief system that emphasizes mind (and will) over matter, discipline is integral to any of the Pagan paths: warrior, magician, student/teacher, cleric, healer. By strengthening discipline, we strengthen our ability to focus and hone our will, making ourselves more effective in our magic and on our paths.

Perhaps the two most important reasons to fast are also the two most Pagan. Sacrifice is one of the pillars of neo-pagan worship. In sacrificing, we create connections with our Gods, and reinforce the give/receive relationship we have with them. In this way, if we offer every meal that is not consumed, and every craving that is ignored to the Gods as an offering of our devotion and thanks, we make our connection stronger. And in being able to sacrifice something that is difficult to offer, the act becomes all the more meaningful.

Not only can fasting create a stronger connection with our Gods, it can also create a stronger connection with the cycles of the Earth. In this time of late fall and early winter, the earth is barren and diminished, while the lands of the dead and the Sidhe are strong. In choosing to fast in this time of year, we can reflect the current ebb of the earth’s cycle, and switch our focus from the physical world into the realms of introspection, otherworldliness and mystery. There is then symmetry between ourselves and the Mother, one that allows us to better perform the acts, such as communication with the dead, that are appropriate for this time.

For me the answer is clear- there is value in fasting as a pagan. Through my own introspection, the timing for the fasting has also become evident- between the sabbats of  Samhain and Yule. In this way, I can fast during the darkest part of the year, and prepare for the great feast of Yule.  The only question left to answer is how. Considering the length of time between the two sabbats (over a month and a half), it is impossible to simply not eat. Do I fast like the Christians, denying favourite foods? No, I have decided, that would not be true fasting, and it would also remind me of a past that I have long left behind. Instead, I have decided on a variation of the Muslim approach for Ramadan.

The practice of Ramadan involves fasting for the day, and eating at night. This was designed to create as much hardship as possible for a desert community, since disciples are not allowed to drink or eat during the hottest time of the day. At this time of year, with our nights so long, and our days so short, the typical Ramadan approach seems less of a hardship, nor does it really capture the spirit or intent of the “dark times” fast that I am proposing. The period between Samhain and Yule is dark, and it is the darkness that is our suffering, a suffering that gets longer as the nights progress toward Winter Solstice. With that in mind, I have decided that I will eat during the day, while the sun shines, to remind myself of the bounty that the Sun and summer bring. At night I will fast, to mourn the loss of the sun, and also better connect with the lands of shadow- those of the dead and Sidhe. At Yule, with the re-birth of the Sun, I will break my fast in celebration. My intention is to make this a yearly event, one that will gather import with time and practice.

Tonight, I watch the sunset, and observe my first night of fasting. As the sun goes down, I pray to the Gods that they watch over me, and accept the sacrifice I make as a demonstration of my reverence and love for them. I am willingly embarking on this difficult journey, because I know the gains will be great. While my body may suffer, my spirit will flourish and my wisdom will grow. 

This is the first of a three-part series.

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Clea Danaan Edelblute
www.IntuitiveGardening.net

This afternoon we went out for a walk in the stroller, just for kicks. I admit I felt rather silly. It’s a nice enough stroller – a hand-me-down from one of my husband’s coworkers. But here I was, pushing this goofy thing in front of me, my hands were cold, and Baby Goddess just wasn’t sure what to make of the whole thing. I much prefer to wear my baby.

I have three slings: two pouch slings I made (one lined with fleece), and a wrap sling I bought. We also were given a Baby Bjorn, which we use frequently. When we go shopping or to the library, or wander around a fair or a bookstore, either I or my hubby puts our little Baby Goddess into one of these cloth carriers, and voila! No stroller to maneuver, no problem with stairs, no straining biceps.

When my back starts to hurt a little, I simply skootch her to one side or another, and the change lessens the strain. She feels safe and warm, can see what’s going on, and can fall asleep easily when she gets tired. If I’m out for longer than an hour, I tip her back in the pouch sling, give her a pacifier, and she falls asleep with only a bit of fussing (which is only due to her love of checking EVERYTHING out). You keep her close with little or no fuss, and get great exercise in the process.

There are several kinds of slings to choose from: pouch slings like mine are easy and adaptable. You can make them out of a less than two yards of fabric. A ring sling is a lot like a pouch, but is adjustable by a double ring near your shoulder. A wrap sling is a super long piece of fabric that you wrap in an X in front and an X in back and put baby in however you like: front, side, back, or lying down. Then there are some Asian-inspired slings like the Mei Tei, which I’ve never used but have heard great things about it.

Many slings will grow with your child: get one when she’s a newborn and wear her till she can walk!

To make your own, see this site: http://www.mammasmilk.com/pages/makeyourown.php. I also love this site: http://www.sleepingbaby.net/jan/index.html?Baby/asian.html for lots of crafts and nifty sewing ideas. There are online chat groups dedicated to babywearing, and Mothering.com’s forum has a section dedicated to slings and other ways to wear your baby.

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By Clea Danaan

As a mother of a breastfeeding baby, I am very aware of everything I eat. I want my daughter to get the best nutrition possible, avoid allergies, and receive as few pesticides as possible. Eating organic foods, despite the sometimes much higher prices, feels like a crucial commitment to the present and future health of my child. Not only does it give her the highest nutrition, it helps preserve the beautiful planet she now lives on, and is one little way I can try to assure she has the best future possible.

Organically grown food is much more nutritious than conventionally grown vegetables. A study in the UK found that organic produce contains much higher amounts of magnesium, vitamin C, phosphorus and iron than those conventionally grown. Conventionally grown beans have one-tenth the iron of organic beans, while conventional spinach contains half the calcium of organic spinach. Organic lettuce, cabbage, spinach, and potatoes contain particularly high levels of minerals. We absorb nutrients through food far better than through vitamin supplements, and vitamin deficiencies can lead not only to physical health problems, but depression and anxiety as well.

Danish researchers found significantly higher amounts of antioxidants – from ten to fifty percent more – in organically grown produce. Antioxidants reduce our risk of developing cancers and coronary heart disease. A study in Sweden suggests that consuming organic foods may reduce the prevalence of allergies as well.

Not only does organic food contain more nutrients, but also a lot less poison than conventionally grown produce. The Pesticide Action Network North America found when they examined data collected by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) that essentially all Americans contain in our bodies a cocktail of dangerous pesticides. While the EPA and CDC know some of the ill effects of individual chemicals, there are almost no studies demonstrating what might happen when these pesticides are combined. Our bodies have become living chemistry laboratories, containing toxic levels of dozens of kinds of dangerous chemicals.

The highest amounts of toxic pesticides were found in children, women, and Mexican Americans. I find it staggering that the average 6 to 11-year-old studied by the CDC is exposed to four times the “acceptable” level of the pesticide chlorpyrifos, a chemical known to interrupt nerve development in humans. The women studied had extremely high levels of organchlorine pesticides in their blood and urine samples, chemicals that inhibit brain and neural development in fetuses when they cross the placenta.

Our bodies are not able to pass many of the chemicals, pesticides, and other pollutants we are exposed to; over time, pesticides build to toxic levels. We store many of them in our fatty tissue, from which we draw extra nutrients for breastfeeding. Though it is still the absolutely best food for our babies, breast milk contains extremely high levels of pesticides and POPs, or persistent organic pollutants, chemicals that do not break down easily.

Of course, it is not only humans who are adversely affected by pesticides. According to the Worldwatch Institute, converting one percent of United States’ lawns to organic garden space “would reduce the toxic pesticide exposure to families and wildlife by up to 3.4 million kilograms per year, while also helping to reduce reliance on energy-intensive commercial food transport.” What if every fourth household converted their lawn to a pesticide-free garden? That might be 20% of existing lawn in the United States; translating to 68 million kilograms less toxic pesticide exposure in food, soil, and water. That means healthier children, water, and wildlife. It means living more respectfully toward the natural world – including us humans.

One study found a strong association between home pesticide use, especially lawn treatment and pest extermination, and some types of childhood cancers. The traditional American Dream may include acres of rolling jade-green lawns and year-round produce selection at the local grocer, but does it include our children dying young of cancer?

In addition to growing organic fruits and vegetables on our own land, we can make a big difference by buying organic produce from local sources. Brian Halweil of the Worldwatch Institute writes, “A head of lettuce grown in the Salinas Valley of California and shipped nearly 3,000 miles to Washington, D.C., requires about 36 times as much fossil fuel energy in transport as it provides in food energy when it arrives.” Take that much inefficient use of fossil fuel out of the picture, and you end up with less reliance on ecologically harmful oil drilling and unstable Middle Eastern nations.

Furthermore, fossil fuel produces carbon dioxide, a molecule that traps heat on the earth and is largely responsible for the greenhouse effect. Organic gardening actually helps to reduce and even reverse greenhouse gases accumulating in the atmosphere by collecting and retaining carbon in organic soil. The Rodale Institute determined after a twenty-three year-long study that organic soils help retain carbon, reducing and even reversing the overabundance of greenhouse gases in the atmosphere.

Recently Americans have been alerted to our vulnerability from bioterrorism and the spread of infections, like Mad Cow Disease. By importing our food from around the world and shipping it across the country in large cargo containers, we put ourselves at risk for food tampering or delivery disruption by terrorists. We also bring in foreign pesticides, which may be controlled even less stringently than in the United States, and foreign diseases.  The 2001 foot-and-mouth outbreak in the United Kingdom was traced to grain imported from China, and it spread rapidly via cows transported to central slaughterhouses. We can create a better ecological and political future for our children by buying locally grown organic foods.

Doing so helps our communities as well. In the United States, most people get their produce from the supermarket. Most of the food in supermarkets comes from giant agribusiness conglomerates. These corporations control farms, acting as the only purchaser of the farmer’s produce as well as the supplier of the farmer’s seed, fertilizer, and other supplies. That farmer sees very little of the money we pay at the supermarket; most of the purchase price of food goes to packaging and marketing.

That money, along with additional government subsidy, pays for chemical fertilizers and pesticides. Agriculture today is the largest polluter and uses the most petroleum of any industry. Its use of pesticides and cultivation of monoculture (an entire field of potatoes or broccoli) reduces biodiversity through habitat loss and accidental or intentional poisoning of wildlife. Food diversity has also suffered world-wide, because agribusiness farms grow what is most hardy and least perishable – not what is healthiest or most flavorful. Those foods can only be grown locally.

Local foods, grown in your yard, in a community plot, or a local organic farm, keep money local. Buying locally ensures that small farms can avoid being folded into the oligopolistic agriculture market and losing control over their own land. Growing your own food keeps more funds in your pocket as you do not pay for shipping, packaging, or other extra costs – just the food and your time spent in the garden. Sharing your garden bounty with neighbors or shopping at the local farmer’s market builds community; strong community means lower crime rates and individuals whose needs are met more efficiently.

Fred Kirshenmann, organic farmer, said, “Food is not like any other commodity. Food is a community creature. Food has always been at the center of community celebrations – a wedding, a birthday. So the industrial giants who want to completely commodify our food and reduce it to roughage for profit are bucking against a very powerful cultural phenomenon – hospitably. But true hospitality emerges when we each bring something to the table.”

When we each bring something to the table, grown by our own hands, we teach our community and our children about true hospitality. Children who garden learn the value of cooperation and working with the land. They discover the joys and sorrows of the life cycle, and of responsibility for their actions. Children who garden eat more fresh vegetables, reducing their chances of becoming obese later in life; and gardening together teaches youth about cooperation, participation, and self-motivation. By sharing with their neighborhood, especially those in need, they learn about sharing and peace-making. Eating carrots grown by the old man down the street, they learn about respect for others, regardless of ethnicity, age, or class. They learn about compassion. Derrick Jensen writes, “Part of our task as members of a community is to feed each other.” He includes the non-humans in his definition of community.

Organic, locally grown produce means less cancer and heart disease, less obesity, reduced greenhouse gases, lower crime rates, and safer, more financially robust communities. It makes for healthier breast milk, which builds a healthier child; my commitment to organic foods feels like an invisible trust fund for my daughter. I suspect the readers of this magazine would agree that organic foods are better than those conventionally grown, but like me might balk at the higher cost. Every time I purchase organic fruits, vegetables, meats, and other foods, I see past the sticker price by reminding myself that my choice puts “pennies in the bank” for my child, the planet, my community, and the future.

Clea Danaan is the author of Sacred Land: Intuitive Gardening for Personal, Political, & Environmental Change (Llewellyn, May 2007). A version of this article appeared in Organic Family Magazine. For more of Clea’s work, see http://www.IntuitiveGardening.net

Sources

Assadourian, Erik. “Cultivating the Butterfly Effect.” World Watch Magazine. World Watch Institute, January/February 2003.

Ausubel, Kenny. Restoring the Earth: Visionary Solutions from the Bioneers. Tiburon, California: H J Kramer. 1997.

Cleeton, James. “Organic foods in relation to nutrition and health key facts.”

11 Jul 2004. This factsheet is a summary of an article published in “Coronary and Diabetic Care in the UK 2004” by the Association of Primary Care Groups and Trusts (UK). http://www.organicconsumers.org/organic/health-benefits.cfm accessed December 8, 2005.

Gardner, Gary & Brian Halweil. “Overfed and Underfed: The Global Epidemic of Malnutrition.” Worldwatch Paper 150. March 2000.

“Globetrotting Food Will Travel Farther Than Ever This Thanksgiving.” Worldwatch Institute, press release, November 21 2002. Accessed March 25, 2005, at http://www.worldwatch.org/press/news/2002/11/21/

Jensen, Derrick. A Language Older than Words. White River Jct., Vermont: Chelsea Green, 2004.

Leiss, J.K.; Savitz, D.A. “Home pesticide use and childhood cancer: a case-control study.” American journal of public health. New York, N.Y.: Feb 1995. v. 85 (2), p. 249-252.

“Pesticide Residues from Non-Organic Foods Building Up in Our Bodies.” Pesticide Action Network. May 11, 2004.

Sullivan, Dan. “Organic Gardens Help Fight Global Warming.” Organic Gardening. Jan/Feb 2004, 51(1).

Clea Danaan Edelblute

www.IntuitiveGardening.net

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by Cornelia Amiri

Ireland is a land of legends and one of the oldest and greatest is the legend of the Lia Fail. Called the speaking stone, because when the feet of the rightful kings rested on the stone it roared for joy. The stone is also known as the Tanist Stone, Jacob's Stone, Jacob's Pillow, the Stone of Destiny, and the Jewel of Destiny.

The legend began in time out of mind, before birds, insects, lizards, four legged creatures and finally humans came to walk upon the stone. Eons after the stone's creation, a man named Jacob, a second son, fleeing his brother's wrath, wandered into the clearing where the stone lay. Jacob used the stone as a pillow on which he laid his tired head.

As Jacob slept, he dreamed of a stairway to heaven where God called down from the top rung and blessed Jacob with the land on which he lay. God promised Jacob's descendants would be as plentiful as dust and they would spread to the four corners of the earth.

When Jacob awoke, he knew he had lain on the gateway to Heaven. Gently, he picked up the large stone, poured oil on it, and carried it with him as a holy relic.

Many years passed and Jacob wed; his wives and their handmaidens gave him sons. Before long he had grandsons and great grandsons. The stone came to be called Jacob's Pillow and it was passed down through his descendants. Eventually, the stone was taken into Egypt where it stayed until Moses freed the Israelites. Then it was carried into the Promised Land. But, the stone always stayed within the line of Jacob, from which descended the greatest of prophets and the greatest of kings.

The stone was taken to Jerusalem where it was used as the pedestal of the ark of the Ten Commandments in Solomon's temple until the Babylonians attacked the city. The walls of Jerusalem crumbled and the Babylonian King, Nebuchadnezzar, set the city aflame. The Israeli King, Zedekiah, had imprisoned the prophet Jeremiah for foretelling of this very doom. But Nebuchadnezzar set him free. Except for Jeremiah and Zedekiah's two daughters the people of Jerusalem were enslaved and taken to Babylon.

Jeremiah took Zedekiah's daughters and the holy relics with him. He hid the ark and tabernacle in a hollow cave in the same mountain on which Moses was given the commandments. Jeremiah needed the stone to rebuild the empire, so it would stand until the Messiah comes to gather the people. But the prophet couldn't build the kingdom in Judah for it lay in waste, and neither Babylon nor Egypt would offer protection. To fulfill God's will Jeremiah had to bring King Zedekiah's daughters (of Jacob's line through David) and the stone (now called the Stone of Destiny) to a new land.

After searching the far seas for a new homeland, he docked at Iberia, as it was a pleasant and fruitful place. There, Scotta the younger daughter of King Zedekiah was married to the king of Iberia. Then Jeremiah proclaimed it was time to go to the new Promised Land and with Zedekiah's older daughter, Tea Tephi, he cast off for a green isle in the shimmering sea. Erin.

It was there, on a green grassy hill called Tara or Teamhair (pronounced Thawr), Princess Tea Tephi of Jerusalem and Prince Eochaidh of Erin were married and crowned King and Queen as they stood on the Stone of Destiny. The people of Erin were wise and spiritual. They knew the things of the earth which seemed to be the least to mankind lived far longer than men. So just as they learned the wisdom of the trees and used them in worship, they learned the power of the stones and used them in worship.

The stone stayed at the hill of Tara for many years. As the human
spirit is so potent it can even affect stone, the people of Erin gave the stone powers. It came to be known as the as the Lia Fail, (the speaking stone in the language of Erin) for the stone acquired the power to choose who would be king by roaring for the rightful sovereign.

Jacob's pillow was the coronation stone for 131 high kings of Erin, all crowned at Tara. Each coronation included blessing the king's future children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren. Exactly as was done on that long ago day when God blessed Jacob's descendants and promised they would be as plentiful as dust and they would spread to the four corners of the earth.

I dedicate this article to Tara or Teamhair, currently under threat. Please see these links for further information: 

Protest Song for Tara - http://www.myspace.com/songfortara 

Save Tara petition - http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendid=195681174 

Video - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vliZK6pwI8w

BIO: Cornelia Amiri draws on her love of history and fifteen years of research on the ancient Celts, to write tales of long swords, hot heroes, and warrior women. Ms. Amiri is the author of four Celtic/Romance novels, The Fox Prince, The Vixen Princess, Danger Is Sweet, and One Heart One Way, published with Awe-Struck e-books. She lives in Houston, TX with her wonderful son. http://www.myspace.com/CelticRomanceQueen

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by Stephanie Pflumm ©Copyright 2007

The geological composition of the Moon is very similar to Earth’s. A majority of the theories attempting to explain the Moon’s origin begin with a piece of primal earth being spun off, or broken off by the impact of space debris.

Many of the same minerals and elements are common to both the Earth and Moon. However, on the Moon, most of these materials remain in their original condition. Without the erosion of weather, volcanic upheavals and traumatic plate shiftings that the Earth endures, the minerals on the Moon are much the same as they were when it was born approximately 4.6 billion years ago.

Not that Grandmother Moon hasn’t had geological traumas. In fact, scientists today are trying to determine the composition and density of the Moon’s core by measuring moon quakes. The low plains of the Moon (about 15% of its surface) were formed by volcanic activity. During its infancy, the surface was scarred by the relentless bombardment of meteors.

However, the highlands, which make up about 85% of the Moon’s surface are exactly the same as they were almost 3 billion years ago. It is, perhaps our oldest fossil, giving us a glimpse into the beginning of our universe.

Though considered geologically dead, there are sign posts of some prehistoric attempt at life. The South Pole includes deposits of frozen water & there are remnants of a magnetic field, similar to Earth’s.

Everyone is familiar with the gravitational influence that the Moon has on our oceans. Did you know that the Earth exerts similar forces on the Moon? Rocks & boulders on the Earth side of the Moon, bulge out more than on the dark side.

The Moon does not shine, it reflects the Sun’s light. Nor does the Moon actually change shapes. Our angle of perception changes, as the Moon makes its monthly orbit around Earth.

Unlike a Solar Eclipse, during a Lunar Eclipse the Moon is not actually blacked out. A Lunar Eclipse occurs when the Earth passes between the Moon and Sun, filtering the light that reaches it. This diffusion of light causes the Moon to become an erie orange/red color.

The full Moon does not make you weird. Like any creative tool, it merely focuses and energizes what is already there. So Grandmother Moon is only reflecting and magnifying what you are feeling during her full phase. In fact, I have noted that since I’ve been working with and observing the cycles of the Moon, that I feel more energized and inspired during Grandmother’s full phases. And if I get PMS during the New Moon . . . it is usually twice as bad!

Using Grandmother Moon in your creative work, is simply a matter of tuning into her phases and understanding how to work with them.

There are two basic forces that you are working with in Moon Magic, birth and death. To work effectively with Grandmother, you must have a fundamental understanding of the difference between dark and evil, negative and harmful. Working with the Moon, means you will be working with both positive and negative, dark and light energies. NOT evil or harmful energies.

A “positive” energy can be just as harmful as “negative” energy. Survival is an excellent example of this. It is definitely positive for Hawk to eat lunch and survive. However, it will be a very negative experience for Mouse.

Yin and Yang, dark and light, positive and negative, birth and death are fundamental facts of nature. It is the female/male balance that makes all possible. You cannot have chaos without order, light without dark, birth without death.

Because you work with these energies, will not make you evil. How you use them will determine that.

Basic Moon Magic involves the Waxing and Waning Moon. Waxing Moon enhances energies for creative work. Looking for a new job, building wealth or abundance, or giving yourself a boost.

As I mentioned earlier, I have found Grandmother’s Fullness to be a rich source of energy. Crystals, gems, pens that I write with, poems for power pouches, and occasionally coins are just some of the other items I have charged by the full Moon.

You can also use it to empower scrying tools. A mirror is a perfect item for this purpose. Select a mirror that catches your attention, doesn’t have to be a new one. Perform a cleansing ritual to remove any positive or negative energy that may harm you. Then ask the mirror to assist you in receiving future knowledge.

Set your mirror out where it will reflect the maximum amount of moonlight. Greet the rising Moon, present your mirror and request your intention. Be sure to retrieve your mirror before Grandfather Sun rises.

Waning Moon is best for letting go, undoing, removing obstacles and cleansing. Breaking bad habits or eliminating harmful thought patterns are two ways that I like to use New Moon energies.

Try this if you are wanting to kick an addictive habit: At the Moon’s next fourth quarter, select an Amethyst stone and cleanse it. Request the crystal’s help in overcoming your addiction. Place the Amethyst in your non dominant hand (the one you DON’T write with), begin visualizing your habit leaving you and entering the stone. Visualize the higher quality of life you will experience without the burden of your habit. Continue to remove the habit and build the benefits until you feel confident you have communicated your intent to the Amethyst.

During the next week, as Grandmother Moon wans away, keep the Amethyst where you will see it each day. Do NOT carry the Amethyst with you. As you are near it, or pass by, continue to visualize your addiction trapped within the stone and begin the building process of filling your life with the side benefits of non-addiction. That means you have to begin the effort of stopping, whatever it is.

Remember, the Amethyst cannot end your addiction, it can only help intensify your intent to do so and give you power to act. But you alone can act.

At New Moon, again, take your Amethyst in your non dominant hand and repeat your intent. Visualizing the departing habit and the incoming rewards. When finished, bury the Amethyst someplace special (but legal to dig in) for you. As you continue to work past your habit, remember the Amethyst working to empower you to succeed. Know that the Crystal now communicates your desire to overcome with the Universe and all your relations.

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The West Memphis Three: A Modern Witch Hunt

Part Three: Tomorrow

By Weyland Smith

"History repeats itself because nobody listens." ~Anonymous.


After fourteen years, three innocent men are still imprisoned for an unspeakable crime.  The real murderers are still at large.  What can those of us who care about truth & justice do?

Some suggestions....

Be informed by frequently visiting www.wm3.org for the latest WM3 news updates.

Read.  Knowledge really is power.  Read Devil's Knot by Mara Leveritt & The Blood of Innocents by Guy Reel, Marc Perrusquia and Batholomew Sullivan.  There are others, but start with those two. 

Watch the documentary Paradise Lost: The Child Murders at Robin Hood Hills and Paradise Lost 2: Revelations.  Available on DVD.

Discuss the plight of the Three with friends, both online and off.  Start WM3 topic threads on your favorite e-mail lists.

Join WM3 discussion boards.  (You can find quite a few at the wm3.org site.)  Be prepared for some wild & woolly diatribes--and be prepared to learn.

Write.  Articles like this one.  (E-zines seem to like them.  So do newsletters.)  Mention the Three in your blog.  Small, factual ads in Arkansas newspapers might be an idea.  So would writing your Congressman.  Just keep it factual, and avoid diatribes.

YouTube.  Creative videos supporting the Three could be quite helpful.

Contribute to the cause.  The MySpace page for contributions is www.myspace.com/fightagainstcorruption

Being different isn't a crime.  Neither is being wiccan.  Or poor.  Ask yourself how many of those categories you and your family fit into.  Three innocent men are in prison--one of them on death row.  History has a nasty habit of repeating itself.  Think about it.

Free the Three!

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by Stephanie Pflumm ©Copyright 2007

The Moon has always been an influential power in culture, religion, geological events, society and more. This two part article will review Grandmother’s mythical & geological history. Exploring Grandmother’s history may help you discover your own path to using Moon Magic.

Very early cultures held the Moon in higher regard than the Sun. Daylight, it was believed, did not come from the Sun, but was a separate entity or energy. While the Moon was regarded as the only source of light during the dark nights.

The constant changing of its shape caused grave concerns and gave birth to many legends and stories to explain its mysterious behavior.

A legend from the North-East regions of India describes the Moon as one of the four children of Mother Earth. Moon, with his sister the Sun, created the stars & together they were responsible for the powers of life on Earth. At this time the Moon & Sun shone with the same brightness.

Being an easily bored and moody young man, Moon soon began lusting after his sister. The beautiful sister was angered by Moon’s perversity, and flung ashes into his face, forever dulling his appearance.

Now Moon must constantly chase the Sun, only able to spend a few days a month near her beauty.

In many cultures, the Sun is wife to the Moon. In a Bedouin story the Sun is infused with sexual passion for her husband the Moon. Always trying to seduce her calm & reserved husband, she becomes frustrated with having her advances continuously refused. One day, the Sun finally loses her temper and a terrible battle ensued. You can still see the scars today in the Moon’s pock-marked face and the spots on Sun’s surface.

The marital couple now has sex once a month, after which the Moon withers away to nothing.

More important than the stories and fears that Moon inspired in our Ancestors, was the role this orb played in our ability to plan and organize.

The words Moon & Month have their origins in Sanskrit, from words that mean “measure” or “to measure”.

Cave drawings discovered in Spain, depicting the phases of the Moon, are believed to be at least 9000 years old, dating to 7000 BC. Stonehenge, the Great Pyramids, Temples from around the world were all built to measure the Moon’s phases and to predict the equinoxes, solstices and eclipses.

Gaining the knowledge of time measurement was one of our first steps in taking control of our human existence. Knowing when we could plant crops or when certain animals would be migrating meant we may never have to be hungry again. Controlling our food supply, gave us more time to create tools.

However, knowledge of the Moon’s moody phases did not lessen our superstition of this energy source. Festivals for bountiful harvests, fertility and gathering power where celebrated by the light of a full Moon. Prayers, repentance, cleansing and sacrificial ceremonies were held in the dark of the new Moon.

Easter Sunday is one of our modern holidays that is still determined by the Moon. The date is set according to the first Full Moon following the Vernal Equinox & assigned to the nearest Sunday.

Sometime during the rising Roman Empire, under the influence of Greek travelers and teachers, the Moon began to take on female aspects. Egyptian cults for the goddess Isis began to flourish after Greek & Roman infiltration. Before that the Moon was a male god.

Independent of the Greek mythologies however, Native American legends also present shifts in the Moon’s sexuality. Today the Moon is almost always represented as female.

You can use the full Moon for creative energies, to charge stones with specified tasks, dreaming, fulfilling your own energy cycles, and more.

(To be continued …Part 2 will be here next month!)

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by Weyland Smith


Part Two: Yesterday

"The past is never dead--it is not even past."  ~William Faulkner, author.

In 1993 West Memphis Arkansas, teenagers Damien Echols, Jason Baldwin and Jessie Misskelly were charged with the murders of three missing eight-year-old boys--Christopher Byers, Michael Moore, and Stevie Branch--whose bound and naked bodies had been found in Robin Hood woods.  No forensic evidence to link the teens to the murders existed.  A confession by one of the teenagers was peppered with mistakes and contradictions.  And a man who should have been a prime suspect was never officially connected to the crime.  The teenagers were found guilty.  The verdicts were upheld on appeal.  They remain in prison today--one facing a sentence of death. 

A friend of mine has described the police investigation as a joke, and if half of what I've read is accurate, I have to agree with her.  Most murdered children are killed by someone they know.  But the victims families received minimal questioning at best.  Ex-commercial airline pilot and co owner of a failed housecleaning service Jerry Driver, at that time chief juvenile officer of Crittendon County, was viewed by police as the local expert on the occult.  He'd been hounding Damien Echols for months prior to the killings--going so far as to contact juvenile authorities in Oregon to warn them about Damien when the Echols family temporarily moved to that state and to request courtesy supervision of the teenager as long as he stayed on probation.  Oregon authorities eventually stopped responding to his letters.  Drivers labeled Echols as a suspect after the murders and later testified at Damien's trial.  Waitress turned amateur dectective Vicki Hutchenson had extensive contact with the teenaged suspects with the knowledge of police.  Her reported information about the teens was dubious to say the least--such as her claim of having been driven to an esbat by Damien Echols in a red Ford Escort...although Damien had no driver's license and no one in the Echols family owned such a vehicle.

The trials weren't much better. (There were two.  Jason was tried first, alone.)  Damien's reading habits (he liked Stephen King and Anne Rice) drew more attention than the lack of physical evidence.  Damien's belief in Wicca didn't score any points with the jury either--even though Wiccans don't believe in Satan, which should have (but didn't) discount the devil worship rumors.

Aside from the nearly sham trial and bungled investigations, one of the more important questions of this case is: If Echols, Baldwin and Misskelly didn't commit the murders, who did?  John Mark Byers (stepfather of one of the victims) should have been more seriously considered as a candidate.  Defense attorneys tried to paint Byers as a suspect by implication during the second trial, although they stopped short of accusing him outright, due to fears of antagonizing the jury by accusing a relative of the dead boys. 

Award-winning investigative journalist Mara Leveritt's book Devil's Knot: The True Story of the West Memphis Three, is arguably the definitive work on the plight of Echols, Baldwin and Misskelly.  It's a comphrensive and well documented look into this bizarre and troubling case.  Leveritt's painstaking attention to detail underscored several of the more troubling aspects of the trial and investigation.  But her most chilling point is that anyone, anywhere, can be accused of anything.  Especially if they're different.  No one who cares about the American justice system or wonders what it would be like to be unfairly accused of a terrible crime should miss her book.

There is no forensic evidence that links Damien, Jason and Jessie to the murders.  It strains the imagination to believe that these three unsophisticated kids would have been able to eliminate all traces of DNA from themselves and somehow also manage to avoid tracking any into their own homes.  But to me, the unnecessary tragedy of the case was summed up in a single, terrible scene: when asked by the judge if there was any reason his sentance shouldn't be imposed, Jason  Baldwin replied in a small voice, "Because I'm innocent."

Web Sites

Would you like to join a WM3 discussion board?  Well, the main place for anything like that is www.wm3.org.  From that site you can get to the ezboard discussion forum for supporters.  There is also one for nons on ezboard.  Be warned about both – they are not for the faint of heart.  The discussions get wild and wooly there, complete with profanity.

If you'd like to contribute to the WM3, try The myspace page is www.myspace.com/fightagainstcorruption

Free the Three!

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by Weyland Smith

In 1993 West Memphis Arkansas, teenagers Damien Echols, Jason Baldwin and Jessie Misskelly were charged with the murders of three eight-year-old boys.  Their alleged membership in a satanic cult seemed to be of more importance than a series of investigative blunders and a lack of physical evidence to connect the teens to the crime scene.  Fourteen years later they are still behind bars--one facing a sentence of death.  Award-winning investigative reporter Mara Leveritt's book Devil's Knot: the True Story of the West Memphis Three is well-written and terrifying examination of the murders, the trials, and their consequences. 

Weyland: You're a leading authority on this case.  How did you first become aware of the West Memphis Three?

Mara:  I was a reporter in Little Rock, focusing on criminal justice issues, when the murders occurred. Like everyone, I was horrified by the brutality. After the arrests, I was startled by how much "information" officials seemed to be leaking, especially the suggestion that the murders were somehow linked to occult practices.. I was aware of the hysteria that was sweeping the country at the time surrounding so-called ritual murders. In fact, shortly before the murders, I’d written an article about the 1992 FBI report that carefully examined–and debunked–many claims of ritual abuse. I waited to see what evidence would be presented at the trials, and when I heard nothing that sounded substantial enough to warrant the sentences handed down, I went to West Memphis to begin examining the case on my own.

Weyland:  What questions or aspects of the case are you surprised that never came up?

Mara:  From my experience with other cases and other police departments, I knew that most murdered children were killed by someone they knew. In light of that fairly basic, investigative truism, I was stunned, when I began reading the police files, to see how minimally the police questioned the victims’ families. There are hundreds of questions that should have been asked of all the relatives within the first 24 hours of finding the bodies, but weren’t. In addition, conflicts in statements given by family members were not scrutinized. From an investigative point of view, this is the part of the case that saddens me most. It’s where everything went awry

Weyland:  What is the import of the May 17 meeting where it was revealed that no forensic evidence linking the WM3 to the crime exists?

Mara:  Legally, a negative finding may not be of much help. Of course, any rational person would question how three people could bludgeon, stab and drown three children, then stuff their bodies into mud and not leave a trace of DNA at the scene, or bring any trace of the murder site to their homes. But, as we’ve seen, this case has not been a rational process since the beginning. I’m hoping that the defense teams have something positive to introduce, in addition to the reported lack of DNA.

Weyland:  Mike Nifong just resigned as the Durham, NC district attorney. Should supporters devote more resources to focus on political avenues in Arkansas, or would that be a mistake?

Mara:  Every howl of objection has had an impact. Whatever state officials may say, they are well aware, as many have privately told me, that thousands of people are watching what is happening here. They wish this case would go away, but at the same time, no one has yet had the political will to acknowledge that it is a disgrace. Public action changes political will. Remember, all the rulings made in this case were made by elected judges. The public can have a tremendous effect by continuing to let this state’s officials know that, both as Arkansans and Americans, we regard this case as an ongoing outrage.

Weyland:   How do think this case reflects on Arkansas in the eyes of the world?

Mara:  Many people around the world see Arkansas as ignorant, cruel and perhaps corrupt, based on officials’ handling of this case. And, much as I hate to say it, that is a fair judgment. However, I would add two caveats: First, I’d ask people to remember that the actions of a few officials can bring great shame on a beautiful state full of decent people, and I believe that’s what’s happened here. Second, while this case has achieved well-deserved notoriety, there are hundreds of other, unknown cases, throughout the U.S., that share many of the same elements. I hope that awareness of what has happened here will open citizens’ eyes to the possibility that something similar, if not so dramatic, may be happening in their own backyards.

Weyland:  Aside from monetary contributions and raising public awareness, what can supporters of the WM3 do to help get them released?  What specific actions can they take to get involved?

Mara:  I have always thought that small ads in area papers such as the Jonesboro Sun or Memphis Commercial Appeal could be extremely effective.  And what about videos broadcast on YouTube? Not tirades. Just facts. It's extremely important to be accurate--and creative.  So much about this case rests on freedom of expression. I like all the creative ideas ways people have  already found to protest the travesty. 

Weyland:  You're still active in the case.  Was the June rally for a new trial successful, and what else is being done to keep the case in the public eye?

Mara:  The rally at the courthouse in Marion was wonderful. It was dignified, strong and vital. I wish everyone who cares about this case could have shared the experience. On one hand, we were a diverse, grassroots group, literally standing in the grass beneath huge shade trees to make our voices heard. On the other hand, looming behind us, visible at every turn, was the courthouse with its horribly ironic proclamation: "Obedience to the Law is Liberty." Perhaps as lawyers for the defense file new motions in the case there will be further opportunities for supporters to come to this corner of the state, where so much has gone wrong, and demand that it be made right.

Weyland:  One of the most chilling points of your book Devil's Knot was that anyone could potentially be falsely accused--and convicted.  What lessons should we learn from this case in that regard?

Mara:  I want people who read Devil’s Knot to recognize that justice is not a science. It can be manipulated. People make mistakes. It is important for citizens everywhere to be aware and not complacent. We should all demand excellence from our police, our prosecutors and our judges–and not just for the wealthy or the privileged, but for everyone. There should be no "throw-away" people in our society. I don’t know anyone who thinks that what happened to Damien, Jason and Jessie would have occurred if they had been the sons of doctors or bankers. Our justice system is only as good as the quality of justice that is given the poorest and least among us. If it is weak in its treatment of them, we are all in danger, and to think otherwise is a delusion.

Weyland:  What the status on the Devil's Knot movie?  Has it been cast?

Mara:  I’ve been asked to leave all announcements about the movie to the studio. Sorry.

Weyland:   How about Paradise Lost 3?  Do you know if it's been cast?

Mara:  I don’t know anything about PL3.

Weyland:  What else are you doing these days?

Mara:  I continue to write for the Arkansas Times, where I’m a contributing editor. I dote on my grandchildren. I garden.

Weyland:  Any other books coming up?

Mara:  Maybe. There’s a topic out there that’s calling me, but I don’t know yet if I’ll answer.

Weyland:  Would you care to share your contact information?

Mara:  Sure. My email address is: mara@maraleveritt.com. I read (and appreciate) all correspondence, but , unfortunately,  have given up on answering it all.

Weyland:  Thank you for your time.

_________________________________________

The Bookworm

(Book Review)

Devil's Knot: The True Story of the West Memphis Three. 

By Mara Leveritt. 

Atria Books, 2002. 

Notes, index.  419 pp.

1993 Arkansas: the bound and naked bodies of three missing eight-year-old boys were found in Robin Hood woods.  They had been brutally murdered.  West Memphis teenagers Damien Echols, Jason Baldwin and Jessie Misskelly were charged with the crime.  No forensic evidence to link them to the murders existed.  A confession by one of the teens was peppered with contradictions and mistakes.  And a man who should have been a prime suspect was never officially connected to the crime.  The teenagers were found guilty.  The verdicts were upheld on appeal.  They remain in prison today.

Award-winning investigative journalist Mara Leveritt's book is arguably the definitive work on the plight of the West Memphis Three.  It's a comprehensive and well documented look into this bizarre case.  Leveritt's painstaking attention to detail underscored several of the more troubling aspects of the trial & investigation. 

Parts of the investigation sound like plots from Grade B movies, including a seemingly obsessed juvenile probation officer who hounded one of the suspects before the murders and then labeled the boy as a suspect after the killings, a waitress-turned-amateur detective who contacted the teenagers with the knowledge and consent of the police, and allegations of devil worship by the teens--one of whom apparently didn't even know who "Satin" was.

The trial wasn't any better.  The reading habits of Damien Echols (he liked Stephen King and Anne Rice) drew more attention than the lack of physical evidence.  Damien's belief in Wicca didn't score any points either--even though Wiccans don't believe in Satan, which should have (but didn't) disprove the devil worship rumors.

Leveritt's most chilling point is that anyone, anywhere, can be accused of anything....and suffer unthinkable consequences.  Especially if they're different.  And most definitely if they happen to be poor.

If you only read one book this Summer, this should be it.

Want to learn more?  Visit the following web sites:

Mara Leveritt - wm3.org

Or contact the author at: mara@maraleveritt.com.

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by Eolathin

As you may or may not know, I have been plagued by what can only be called bad luck health wise over the last month. First my back went into spasm (I’ll spare you the boring details) and was laid up on my back for a week, then I got the flu, then my blood pressure dropped and I feinted.

So here I was yesterday, thoroughly gatvol (believe me, there is no word in the English dictionary to describe the feeling more succinctly! It is an Afrikaans word meaning really, really sick and tired of) of being sick, of not feeling like me. Worried about what people must be thinking of me. Everybody has “woe is me” days. Days where nothing goes right, even the birds singing in the trees sounds more like a squawk which grates your ears rather than a wonderful reminder of the glories of nature. I had a whole month like that. It’s not easy being a divorced and essentially single mom!

So anyway, after a day of going: “Woe is me”, I’m busy cooking dinner last night, mumbling and grumbling away at my bad luck when suddenly the doorbell rings. Sigh, and I answer. A girlish voice pipes up: “Hello ma’am, please ma’am we are asking for food or blankets or anything ma’am” I hesitate for about a split second. The words that come out of my mouth isn’t the words I expected: “I don’t have clothes to give you or money” I start, building up to the “please go bother someone else” and then it comes: “But wait a minute I’m coming, I can at least give you a nice warm dinner” and I open the door to a stranger.

You see, in that split second I thought about the rice, and the meat and the vegetables. And what a cold night it was and that this girl had probably not eaten yet. I couldn’t leave her.

So when I get to the gate, a beaming face looks up at me: “Please ma’am can my brother share my food?” Off course! I say (In for a penny, in for a pound, I think). So in comes these two children, can’t be more than 12 or 13 and my heart breaks. I take out the last of my children’s pink moo-milk and pour them a large glass each. I make a vitamin C drink (well, if they’re out in the cold, they’ll get sick) and then I start looking – right, I can skip dinner and give them, and my children a good meal. Then she comes to me again. Furtively.  “Yes sweetheart”, I say in my kindest voice. “Ma’am, my mother and my auntie will be worried; can I go tell them where I am?”

“Yes, honey and tell them I have a cup of hot tea and some dinner waiting for them” Suddenly my month of woe is miniscule. And in comes another two for dinner. And they have a baby too! And the baby is ill. So I whirl into action, Ponstal for the baby, coffee for the mommies and I send the kids to play together. I had made enough dinner for 3. Now I have an extra 5 people in my house for dinner. Do I have some old clothes? Blankets? I scratch in my freezer. We celebrated Yule on Saturday, I still have some soup left, and I heat it up. I give the kids dinner, I butter bread, and I look in cupboards.

In the mean time, I listen to their story. No, they don’t have work. They are looking though. They live in one of Cape Town’s worst areas, called Atlantis. There drug abuse, domestic violence, rape, exploitation, gangs is an everyday reality. Children don’t stay innocent there. Yet these two children have wide open honest faces. I cry for them.

My son is showing these children around my house. “Wow! Three bathrooms!” and “Wow – look at these toys!” and “wow – you have your own bedrooms!” Then my 7-year old and my 5-year old angels come running up to me. “Mommy, can we give them some of our old toys?” I do a double take. “Okay, my boy, but show me first what you want to give them” What got me, was that they both nearly gave away their favourite (and most expensive) toys! In the end, both children got two things, and their eyes shone like diamonds at receiving these old treasures. The baby got a treasured toy from their baby days. A yellow giraffe with foil feet.

So after dinner, they leave with thanks. A girl and a boy who ate for the first time in 24 hours. Two mommies who haven’t had a cup of coffee in a month. A baby who’s fever broke. And after a whirlwind I finally sit down with a cup of tea. I realised something last night. I could have easily been those mommies. My children could easily have been those children.

I am grateful today. So incredibly grateful to this family who came into my life to remind me that I have so much more than many. So incredibly honoured to have children who will give away their best toys if it makes another child smile.

I’m so blessed to have the money to stay in a house, to have electricity, washing powder. I have a job! I have safety and security for my children. I have love in my life. There is no woe.

And this morning, I got into my old car, not with a groan, but with a smile. And I sat in traffic with a smile. And I think of my debt with a smile. And I hear the birds singing and it sounds like an angel choir.

I am blessed and grateful to have such bounty in my life. And I thought I’d share it with you.

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Dale Morrison

7/3/07

It has been predicted by meteorologists that this year will be a particularly rough year for storms and hurricanes. We have already seen examples of extreme weather all over the United States, as well as in other parts of the world. In the southwest there are record breaking floods. In the southeast and parts of the northeast there is recording breaking drought.

Most of us just go on with our daily lives, not giving the extreme weather much more than a passing thought. Most of us don’t realize the far reaching consequences of drought and floods, to animal and plant life, therefore to human life. I personally know farmers in Tennessee who have had to sell off their cattle due to the lack of pastureland and water, from drought. There is nothing for the animals to eat and drink. This effects allwildlife as well. Wild animals and reptiles, and even insects are venturing into territory which they usually avoid. Now here’s the crux of the matter. If wildlife is expanding out into territory where humans reside, this will present a problem. Animals will be pillaging gardens for food. Reptiles will be in residential neighborhoods, looking for water.  And naturally humans and animals will collide. One or the other, may get injured or killed. The other considerations is that of course there will be shortages of fruits, vegetables, and meat, therefore, becoming expensive. Consequences are convoluted and numerous.

While some fundamentalist doomsayers would attribute these extreme weather patterns to the precursor to the second coming [ of Christ ], I don’t adhere to this belief. It is Mother Nature’s cycles, which in turn, causes natural selection to occur. Just as wildfires, as horrible as they are, kill everything in their path, allows and encourages new growth.That’s not to say we would just sit back and let disasters take over and, not act, but it would benefit us to be aware of natures ways. And on a larger scale, because of humans’ wastefulness, it won’t be long before there won’t be any viable water left for humans oranimals.

In the past few years my consciousness has been pricked, and I have become aware of how wasteful humans really are. I have also made some effort to be more conservative with natural resources. Of course, I could do more. And I will strive to do more to be less wasteful. I also try to feed and water the animals around my house, especially in these times of drought. [ as an aside here. Don’t let standing water sit too long. It will becomea breeding place for mosquitoes ]

A few things you can do to conserve water, is not to let your faucets run while not in use. For example, turn it off, while you are brushing your teeth, then turn it back on to rinse. Don’t just leave your outdoor hoses or sprinklers running for an indefinite time. I realize that our lawns are not as green or pretty as we would like them to be, but our need to conserve water is more important right now. We also could wash our cars less often. And wash dishes less often. Wait until the dishwasher is full before you start it. And in my case, since I live alone, I use to wash each dish with the water running. Now, I wait until there are three or four dishes, then fill the sink some, wash them, then rinse them quickly. The point being, that there are many ways in which to conserve water, and it would benefit us all to avail ourselves of them. On a more global and timeless scale, if we humans don’t start conserving now, I see a future in which people pay dearly for a few gallons of water for consumption and bathing. As for wildlife, I can’t even imagine a life without them.

I believe these weather patterns are not only natural cycles of nature, but are an extreme warning to us, which, if not heeded, will spell our doom. If not our generation, then definitely the next, will reap the effects of our careless disregard of nature’s bounty. Our resources are not endless and bottomless, so we and or our progeny will surely suffer for this selfish raping of the land , while not giving anything back to Mother Earth.

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by Cornelia Amiri

Scottish Clans march alongside well-groomed Celtic breeds at Highland games across the world. Celts and thier canines, side by side, is as common a sight in modern times as it was in ages past. The friendship between men and dogs began as far back as the Stone Age when savvy wolves discovered following messy creatures, called men, as they went from camp to camp, was an easy way to forage for food. The wild wolves ate scraps of trash and tasty bones men left behind. As time went on, some of the wolves ventured closer to the humans. The men talked to them, petted them, and tossed them better scraps of food. In turn some of these wolves began to hang around the human camps. As they became tamer, they were eventually domesticated. These were the first dogs.

Men found dogs helpful when hunting and useful in guarding the camps. When humans began to rely less on hunting and gathering and more on herding, dogs played an important role in herding sheep and cattle as well as guarding them. This encouraged people to breed different characteristics into their dogs from those previously needed.

The Cardigan Welsh Corgi is considered the oldest purebred British dog. It has been traced back to dogs the Celts brought into Wales from the Black Sea around 1200 BC. It’s believed Celts brought hounds to Ireland between 2500 B.C. and 1500 B.C.  The Romans discovered wolfhounds and deerhounds when they invaded Britain in first century A.D. A beaker was recovered at the Newstead Roman fort in Roxburghshire from first century AD, which depicted a fierce dog leaping to bring down a deer.  Another find at the Newstead fort, was an engraved gem from a ring, which detailed a leaping Celtic deerhound.

Irish Wolfhounds were revered for their courage and trained as dogs of war to yank mounted men off thier horses during battle. Celtic warriors considered it an honor to be compared to dogs, because they were loyal, courageous, and vigilant in battle and in the hunt. The name Cunobelinus, one of the most famous British Iron Age chieftains, means Hound of Belinos, the Celtic fire god.

Dogs often appear in Celtic art, placed in a triangular shape, which symbolized the Gods. Dogs were also the companions and representatives of goddess Nehalennia and god Nodens as they were associated with healing. Dogs may have been connected with healing because when they licked their wounds the saliva helped them heal.  Nehalennia, a goddess of Gaul was portrayed with a dog and a basket of fruit. Also the British healing god, Noddens, was always depicted as a dog.  The water dog or dobhar-chu is a mythological Scottish beast, which rose from the sea and roamed the highlands to warn of coming storms. In Cornwall, they gave offerings to a dobhar-chu called Shony, the same name as a water god worshipped in the Hebrides.

Dogs were associated with the otherworld, because of their connection with healing and hunting as both often end with death. There are many accounts of large black dogs mysteriously appearing and chasing lone travelers on the moors.  Black ghost dogs, known as madadh dubh, haunted castles in Ireland, Scotland, and the Isle of Man. In Peel Castle on the Isle of Man a madadh dubh was often seen dozing before a fire. Mortal dogs were also believed to be able to see ghost dogs when their owners couldn’t. Ghost dogs signaled household dogs when a family member was about to die. The mournful behavior of the pet would warn the family of an impending death. In Ireland, black dogs were valued for their clairvoyant gift of perceiving and defending against ghost, fairies, and other supernatural beings.

Dogs and man have forged an ancient, unbreakable bond, beginning in time out of mind and continuing from this life into the next. This friendship is honored at Highland games around the world as Scottish Clans tie tartan bandanas around their dog’s necks and proudly march with their Celtic breeds as the bagpipes play.

BIO: Cornelia Amiri draws on her love of history and fifteen years of research on the ancient Celts, to write tales of long swords, hot heroes, and warrior women. Ms. Amiri is the author of four Celtic/Romance novels, The Fox Prince, The Vixen Princess, Danger Is Sweet, and One Heart One Way, published with Awe-Struck e-books. She lives in  Houston , TX  with her wonderful son. http://www.myspace.com/CelticRomanceQueen

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The Celtic Roots of Witchcraft, Part 2

—Number 4 in a series of 4 articles about the roots of Witchcraft. This article originally appeared in Lady Letter, V4, no. 6, Mabon/Samhain 1997.

As mentioned in part one (Lady Letter, V4.5, Litha/Lammas) of this two-part series, the actual roots of Celtic Witchcraft are obscured by numerous cultural influences over long time periods.

Furthermore, the lack of thorough details concerning the beliefs of the pagan Celts complicates matters. Left with the accounts of Christian writers and the commentaries of the Greeks and Romans, we catch only a glimpse of the faith practiced by these people from the mists. Considering the surviving seasonal celebrations, the pagan nature of various folk customs, and the confessions of Irish and Scots accused of Witchcraft, perhaps the remnants of our Celtic heritage may shine through, albeit in a light different than that of the mythos modern pagans have proposed, allowing for a greater richness in the development of Celtic cosmology and our understanding of our Celtic roots and bones.

In the land of Gaelic goddess of sovereignty, Eriu, a tribe of ancient deities who were Danu's children lived in a twilight world of eternal summer where they remained forever young. Called the Tuatha de Danaan (pronounced tooha day dahnarn), the Tribe of Danu, this Irish pantheon is the only Celtic one known. They taught various crafts and provided their descendants with labor. Ancient earthen mounds, lakes and springs, certain groves, and an island far off in the western seas were their gateways between the divine and mortal realms— the veil between divinity and our ancestors was thin. Most archeological evidence suggests worship of highly localized deities, but not organized along family lines or by clans.

Among the deities was a tribal protective father called a teutates (tribal father). Sucellus (the “good striker”) is an example of a paternal figure who carried a hammer and pot, similar to the Irish Daghda (pronounced dargda) who carried a club and cauldron. The same god may have been known as Donor, Thunor, and Thor across the Rhine, as both Celtic and Germanic people worshiped protective, fertile father gods. Partnered with the tribal father were the regional mothers who were known by area-specific names. Nantosuelta (winding brook) is the Gaulish “mother” mated with Sucellus, although both deities are also represented alone, emphasizing their individual importance.

The concept of the triple mothers was the product of Teutonic, Roman, and Celtic influences. The Matrones were linked to fate, health, fertility, and protection. As well as being worshiped in domestic settings, the divine mothers were beseeched by Roman soldiers and Gaulish and Germanic auxiliary troops in their moments of need. Images of the mothers are found in the British west country, southern Scotland, Gaul, and the Rhineland. In Romano-Britain, the mothers are associated with the genii cucullati (triple gods) often portrayed as her defenders.

Depicted as hooded figures, the fertility of the genii cucullati was emphasized by phallic imagery and the eggs they carried.

Three was considered a sacred number, nine being the most powerful of triplicities. Examples of the use of threes and nines can be found not only in the representations of deities, but also in Welsh and Irish literature. Some examples follow.

Upon landing on Irish soil to lay claim to it for his people, Amergin, the chief Milesian poet, encounters three goddesses: Eire, Fodla, and Banba (pronounced eroo, fowla, and banva, respectively) who personified the countryside. Amergin promises each goddess he will name the land after her if the Milesians can settle in the country of the Tuatha de Danaan. Because of the insincerity of the offer, the sons of Mil are driven from the hill of Tara. After setting sail on the Irish sea, the poet turns around beyond the ninth wave and returns, his poetic incantation creating magick powerful enough to aid his fellow tribesmen in wresting the island from the Tribe of Danu.

Another example, the Welsh Triads (Trioedd Ynys Prydain), are a teaching device that use three references to illustrate a point. For example, a person is three things: what they think they are, what others think they are, and what they really are.

Nines are prevalent, too. Blodeuwedd, the flower maid, who appears in the Welsh text The Mabinogion and the poem “Cad Goddeu” attributed to Talesian, was created by the British magicians Math and Gwydion out of nine different flowers and roots, and water from the ninth wave. She was intended to be a bride for Lleu Llaw Gyffes (pronounced hleeow hlow gufess), Arianrod's son. A queen and enchantress, Arianrod placed three taboos on him: never to bear arms, never to have name, and never to marry a woman mortal born. In the tale of the well of Segais, or the Irish well of wisdom, there were nine hazel trees that dropped their nuts into the pool feeding the salmon of knowledge. Nine sisters carried off the once and future king in the Arthurian tales to Avalon.

The cauldron was a important symbol across Celtic Europe from Ireland to the north of Greece for more than a thousand year period and was associated with both gods and goddesses in religious art and later in post-Christian writings. Part of the Welsh canon, the Book of Taliesin is a 13th-century manuscript that tells of a supernatural woman named Ceridwen who keeps a cauldron of inspiration, wisdom, and regeneration. Ceridwen has a daughter, Crearwy (light), and a son, Affagddu (dark), the two polar aspects of creation. Affagddu is ugly and to compensate for her son's deformity, Ceridwen brews a magickal potion in her cauldron that will bestow vast wisdom on him. But Gwion, a boy who was guarding the brew, when scaled by three drops of the liquid, licks his fingers and receives the wisdom meant for Affagddu.

Enraged, Ceridwen chases Gwion and both shapeshift into various animals until Gwion becomes a kernel of corn which the enchantress, now a hen, consumes. Ceridwen becomes pregnant and nine months later gives birth to Taliesin (Radiant Brow).

Some speculation suggests the cauldron led to the development of the Grail legends. Although this theory has some credence, the cup is equally as old of a religious icon, as observed in the sovereignty rites between the Kings of Ireland and the Goddess of the land. Cups of plenty have appeared as archeological evidence during the Romano-Gallic period in Gaul. Cauldrons were popular as propitiatory gifts in bogs, marshes, and fresh water sources, the Cauldron of Gunderstrup being the most famous of such finds.

Was reincarnation a part of Celtic beliefs? According to Roman accounts, the Celts possessed such dogma; however, the Irish and Welsh tales speak of a divine Otherworld associated with the Faerie folk who evolved out of the ancient goddesses and gods after the coming of Christianity. Does this contrast a doctrine of rebirth? Do people go on to be Faeries or do they become ancestral apparitions as mentioned in the folk traditions of many districts of Brittany and the British Isles? There is little evidence of a coherent belief in reincarnation among our pre-Christian Celtic ancestors. A diversity of beliefs in what occurs after death can be found in all European pagan religions, and the Celts were no exception.

The Faerie and Celtic faiths are integrally woven together. Long after the coming of Christianity, belief in the invisible world of spirits persisted in many variations. Many of the same workings attributed to Witchcraft are linked to those of the Fair Folk, including fertility or famine of the fields and livestock, weather control, healing or bringing disease, and the giving of ill or good luck. Is this a coincidence? What is the link between Witches and Faeries?

In the confessions of Irish and Scottish peasants accused of Witchcraft, many report receiving their abilities from the elves and faeries. Isabel Gowdie, a 16th-century “wise-woman” from Morayshire, speaks of being in the “Downie-hills” with the “good people” and the “Qwein of Fearrie.” The Queen of Elves was mentioned by Andrew Man of Aberdeen in his interrogation before judges.

Sometimes a cunning man or woman would be called to help counter the ills of elfshot, a disease caused by the angry magick of elves. Propitiation was a common preventive measure when dealing with the Faeries. The pouring of a libation of ale or cream was a popular offering. In the beginning of this century on the Isle of Lewis, farmers would wade waist deep in the sea and make an offering to Shoney for a bountiful seaweed harvest.

The Tylwyth Teg were Welsh faeries believed to be spirits of Druids born before Christ who, being good souls, avoided hell and instead lived in the invisible realm of wandering sprites. In Ireland the fair folk were called sidhe (shee); a bean-sidhe (banshee) is a “White Lady” whose ominous presence and wailing cries foretold the death of a family member. In Aberdeenshire, Scotland, travelers left offerings of barley-meal cakes to the bean-sidhe at wells situated near two hills assumed to be her haunting grounds. Samhain (pronounced sarwen), meaning “summer's end,” is the ancient Celtic new year feast when the veil between the worlds of the living and dead was thin. During the Christian era, as Hallowmas, it was believed to be a time when faeries were especially active.

Who were the religious officials of the Celtic faiths? Druidecht, or the druidic arts as they were called by the Irish, appear to be the backbone of Celtic spirituality and society. The Celts believed that even as a poet may not speak before his King, a King may not speak before his Druid. In Greek etymology, druid means “men of oaks,” but the early Irish literature contains the word drui, suggesting a mixture of linguistic origins. Druidism was prevalent in Britain, Gaul, and Ireland and absent in Iberia and Galatia. Druids were oracles, judges, doctors, and philosophers of the natural sciences. In the Irish tales, Druids are also magicians whose feats resemble those of the Faeries and Witches.

Bards were poets whose praise and satire was powerful enough to raise high or lower the status of a lord or king. In a society where the spoken word was a magick more powerful than the written one, poetic arts continued to be revered long after Christianity became the dominant faith. Despite living in a Christian culture, storytellers such as the Irish seanchies and the Welsh cyfarwyddion preserved the essence of our pagan past with their enchanting tales. Poetic inspiration, known as awenin in Welsh, was a power employed by the Awenyddion, soothe-sayers who became possessed by spirits to prophesy. Dynion Hysbys were wise men in Wales who consulted Faeries in their divination practices.

In Brittany, until the seventeenth century, holy shrines were kept by the Fatuae, old women who taught rites centered on the maternal spirit of the springs where they were located. The filid in Ireland continued the poetic craft practiced by the Druids of old. Among the regalia of a filid was a silver branch, a wand decorated with apples, nuts, and bells which acted as a key to open the gates of the Otherworld from which the poet drew his power. Ollamh was a title given to a chief filid.

For the most part, the religions of the past did not have names to identify them. Plus, in a Christian society, the majority of clues surrounding the survival of pagan practices centers around simple country people who, despite holding onto archaic customs, would very much consider themselves to be good Christians. So let's look at some surviving folk traditions to see how pagan faith was observed and preserved.

Well dressing ceremonies are an offshoot of the veneration the Celts had for water sources. A well was decorated with flowers and wreaths of greenery. On Ascension Day at Rorrington in Shropshire, the villagers processed around the hillside with a fiddle and drum to where the well was located; dancing was followed by feasting. In west Glamorgan people used to perform a ritual for rain at the Gellionen Well. Dancing on the green by the well included participants throwing flowers at each other, and one person would fill a bowl with water from the well and shout “bring us rain!”

Pilgrims at Dungiven in county Londonberry would visit a holy well to hang rags in the bushes nearby and circle around a standing stone, bowing and reciting prayers after having washed themselves in the river Roe. In the nineteenth century, women were observed dancing around the well of Melshaach while an old woman sprinkled them with its waters to bestow fertility.

Traditionally, dance and sacred theater are the vehicles used to commune with the divine, to reenact our life experiences. Mummers plays were performed from the mediaeval period into the modern era. The cast of characters consisted of Maid Marian, Robin Hood, Father Christmas, chimney sweeps, and milkmaids. The themes usually centered on the eventual combat of a hero and villain where the vanquished is revived. On May Day, two troupes of dancers met to enact a ceremonial battle between the Winter Queen and the Queen of the May. The Winter Queen was played by a man dressed as a old woman, while the May Queen was portrayed by a young woman. Often there was a procession with the Jack in the Green followed by the ritual marriage of the King and Queen of May.

Morris dancing is also an honored tradition from our past. The Abbots Bromley morris dance is the most famous. Reindeer horns from the 11th century are featured in the dance. Many of the customs referred to above are a conglomeration of Teutonic, Roman, and Celtic influences. It was probably during the Tudor period that many of the dances and symbols became popular, since that is when they first appear to have been documented.

These threads of lore weave our roots together, both past and present, making our history a thing alive waiting to be cultivated for our future. In the heart of the Celt, a deep ancestral fire burned, a place where worlds opened up and visions of what was sacred were revealed. We should continue to search for knowledge of the Celtic past and preserve it, as would our Celtic forebears.

Bord, Janet and Colin. Earth Rites. Granada Publishing Limited, 1983.

Chadwick, Nora. The Celts. Penguin, 1971.

Cunliff, Barry. The Celtic World. St. Martins Press, 1990.

Dames, Michael. Mythic Ireland. Thames and Hudson, 1992.

Evans-Wentz, W. Y. The Fairy Faith in Celtic Countries. Carol Publishing Group, 1990.

Green, Miranda. Celtic Goddesses. George Braziller, 1996.

-----. Celtic Myths. British Museum Press, 1993.

-----. Symbol and Image in Celtic Religious Art. Routledge, 1989.

Hutton, Ronald. The Pagan Religions of the Ancient British Isles. 1991.

Jones, Prudence and Nigel Pennick. A History of Pagan Europe. Routledge, 1995.

Jones, Simon. The World of the Celts. Thames and Hudson, 1993.

Stewart, R. J. Celtic Gods, Celtic Goddesses. Blandford, 1990.

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Modern day generalizations have limited the ancient gods to vague and in descript versions of their former selves. Every day I receive messages that end in "Goddess Bless" and every day I wonder "Which Goddess?" Because a blessing from one might get me a curse from another!

These generalizations put me in the mind set the modern pagans are mimicking Christianity and monotheism. In my view they consolidated out of laziness and lack of education. And those who do gift us with a patron Deity often give us multiple names from multiple cultures and multiple religions. If I would have known that paganism was a

salad bar where you take what you want and leave the rest 15 years ago I would have brought a bigger fork on this journey. But I never could develop a taste for these tossed salad religions with all too sweet dressings to make them prettier so my fork would remain unused anyway.

But I can't recall any time when I got a letter ending in "God Bless". Sound too Christian to use? Perhaps that is why the masses refer to the goddess and goddess only. Then again "God" is just as general as "Goddess".

Then you run into the few who do have a patron Deity that they know very well and actually stick with beyond the patron of the month trends. There are a few universals to paganism that seem to hold. The Goddess is in the moon and the God has horns. And....that's about it. Not too many people know or have researched which one came first, where they came from, or why their general descriptions originated. We do have a lot of archaeological evidence for the Greek gods but low and behold they pretty much look like your average mortal. But there is that one who as never really pt up there on the mountain with the rest of them. In fact, he never liked it up on the mountain anyway, and he didn't really like the other gods either. His description is legendary and used in more forums than any other. His tale is a tragic love story with no ending and a beginning that

may go back further than any other figure in the history of religion.

He travels throughout the world as his tale for-told and he leaves his mark on everyone who looks upon him. He has been called a satyr, a faun, a horned god, and many other things as applied to therianthropy and is sometimes even depicted with Ipotanes (half man, half horse). But in the earliest evidence of this divine creature he

is simply called "The Sorcerer".

The Sorcerer is one name for an enigmatic cave painting found in a cavern known as 'The Sanctuary' at Trois-Frères, France. It appears to depict a man dressed as a stag (or, alternatively, a half-human, half-stag spirit). Its date is approximately 13,000 BCE.

Whether a drawing of a god or a priest, the Sorcerer is a therianthrope, a symbolic blending of human and animal forms that can be found in many cultures. Therianthropes commonly blend the human form with animals that were directly important to local culture, for example as food. Thus, the image is commonly interpreted as a shaman performing a ritual to ensure good hunting; however, this interpretation cannot be proven.

Some believe that further animals may be discerned within the image: the hands have been described as bear-like, and the face that of a bird. What is agreed on is that the legs and arms are human, as are the genitalia, and there are parallels with other ancient images in which human limbs are attached to an animal, usually a bison, to create a bipedal figure.

The Sorcerer bears a strong resemblance to the Celtic God Cernunnos, who was depicted as a man with deer horns, and similar imagery appears elsewhere in the satyrs, and fauns of Greek, and Roman mythology, and the Hindu Lord of Animals, Pashupati. The Sorcerer was created long before the emergence of any of these cultures, and has been interpreted as the earliest known evidence of the "Horned God" religion.

That makes the earliest depiction of "The Horned God" about 11,046 years older than Wicca. That might be just enough time for a few of his details to get lost along the way and almost justify some of the rudimentary descriptions we have and follow today.

Generalizations are dangerous. The show a complete lack of faith, devotions, wisdom, pride, and passion. But such is the curse of modern man who seem to like everything simplistic, universal, and mundane. It's rather disgusting to see in an Age where mortals claim wisdom and understanding but don't even understand what they are or where they came from. You can't even get a good answer to the definition of Paganism. Some say it is anything that came before the biblical faiths. I say it is anything that came before 1954.

Angel Snowden - 2007

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By Nyna Shtern

Every day well meaning doctors prescribe us a pill for this and a pill for that.  I'm in no way telling  you not to listen to your doctor,  but only suggesting that you also investigate the natural medicine that Mother Earth has prescribed for us in the form of natural stones.  Everything that grows has its own energy, and likewise its own spirit.  Everything has a purpose, and as Melody's book says, 'Love is in  the Earth.'  I say that healing and friendship are in the earth as well, and I've got some wonderful stone friends to  prove it.

Did you know that a lovely green stone in the jade family called serpentine  provides wonderful aid against feelings of anxiety?  Before  wishing for a xanax when you're really stressed out, reach for a nice smooth serpentine and allow it to help all your anxiety and tension to slide away, leaving your mind calm and at peace.  Citrine, a lovely stone  in the quartz family ranging from yellow to yellow orange is a great one to partner up with serpentine or to use on its own.  I call Citrine the stone version of sage, for it is a great cleanser.  Not only can this lovely stone spirit cleanse out negative energy from you and your personal auric space, but it can also cleanse away the feelings of stress and worry that lead right into a bad mood.  On those days that I expect to go into a high stress situation, I carry or wear serpentine and citrine to keep myself from even becoming stressed at  all.  It really works.

Amethyst is a lovely medicine against depression and addictions.  Green aventurine is another aid against depression, but it works differently than amethyst's medicine does.  Amethyst is more of a mind healer where as aventurine, what I call the bouncy stone, simply gives one  a feeling of uplifted happiness.  Hematite, a lovely silvery gray black stone is  wonderful to boost the immune system partly due to the iron in the stone that matches the iron in our blood.  I keep hematite on all the time and hardly ever get colds and such.  Hematite is also a very strong yet gentle grounding stone and can thus aid against psychic attacks.  This is because when we're fully grounded, it is harder to get into or through our defenses.

Speaking of protection, black onyx is wonderful at protecting our energy  field against psychic vampires or people who are just negatively intruding into our aura.  Jet is very good at protecting us from attacks on our physical person.  For this reason it is always good to carry a bit while walking alone or to even  hang a piece in our car.  The energy jet puts out sort of seems to deflect harm away from us.  Black tourmaline is another good healer and protector in that it has a lovely way of transmuting negative energy into positive energy for us and the universe around us.

A good strong piece of amber is wonderful in the hand or under the pillow to work against  insomnia.  Wearing amber to bed or holding a bit in your hand should ensure you a good night's sleep.  This is because amber likes to work as a sender and if you're already a bit sleepy it just sends that out and causes the feeling of sleepiness to grow so that you remain asleep.  While we're on the  subject of sleep, tiger eye is a good protector against bad dreams while our minds are wandering around out there on the astral.  Clear quartz crystal does just about anything, and is a good amplifier to boot, so having a bit of it to go along with your amber won't hurt to deepen your sleep even more.  It sure beats the groggy feeling that sleeping pills leave us with in the morning.

This is just a brief over-view of what stone medicine can do for  us, but it is enough to get you  started thinking about it and hopefully seeing stones in a new light.  Consider some of the above suggested medicines and allow their healing magic to unfold for you.

With Blessings and Healing,

Nyna

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During Earth Day I wanted to, in some way, pay homage to Mother Earth. I had to leave for work that night, so I decided to do a short little dedication ceremony. I created my magic space - the condensed version. I lit my Gaia candle, plus a God candle and a green candle as well. I meditated, taking in the earth's immanent energy and dedicated myself to Mother Earth, vowing to improve on my energy saving responsibilities, and generally just to do more for the planet.

I have been watching the Discovery Channel series, " Planet Earth ". The dedicated photographers, journalists and staff worked on this series for five years. They have incredible footage of just about every climate, sub climate, topography, and animal species on earth. With the invention of a technologically advanced camera with a zoom power of up to two miles, they have video taped migratory animals as never before. They also have captured the obvious damage round the world, which global warming has wrought.

I've always had a deep feeling for animals and the earth, but in the past few years my empathy has deepened to a level, which leaves me hurt and raw at times. It may be because I'm a Pisces. It may be because of my childhood and history. I don't know the why's of this deep empathy, but I DO know that the willful and selfish destruction of this planet and its inhabitants has affected me more than I thought would be possible. On one of the segments of " Planet Earth ", it showed a Polar bear dying, because he couldn't reach the security of solid ice. The reason he couldn't is because the Polar ice has been melting earlier in the year. The bears either drown or are unable to get to food.

This saddens me at such a deep level, that when I see evidence of the ravages of global warming and flagrant disregard for the earth; the womb which sustains us, it makes me cry. I feel frustrated, angry, and extremely helpless.

But then I thought, well, I can choose to do nothing and be depressed about it or I can contribute what little I am able, and also spread the word, and try to get others involved. I don't know exactly in what form this will be, but it will present itself when appropriate. I have enlisted the aid of my spirit guides, God, Goddess and all the little elves and gnomes of the earth.

One person may not be able to do a lot, but many people can do amazing things. We have seen this countless times. Case in point-- women have the right to vote. That never would have been possible without the dedication and recruitment of many women [and some men, to give credit where it's due]. If every one of us did little things, such as: turn out lights when you leave the room; don't leave water running unnecessarily; hang out your clothes to dry on a clothesline [if possible] once a week; recycle bottles, plastic and anything you can. Turn off appliances when not in use; if you live where you can do this, ride a bicycle or walk; unplug your phone charger when not in use. There are many ways to save energy and contribute to saving the planet. And in some little way we can be pro-active in causes, such as working toward changing the political climate. Put politicians in there who support the planet and not big oil companies.

I could go on and on ad nauseum, but you get the idea. Searching the internet is an excellent resource for finding solutions and ways in which we can help.

I have a deep love and respect for this planet and I know I have to work harder in " walking the walk ", so to speak. The earth and the elements are such an integral part of our spirituality, that I feel we are or should be the most pro-active guardians. Mother Earth gives and sustains life, so weneed to do what we can to sustain HER.

Dale Morrison

[ Zvoruna ]

Planet Earth

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The Celtic Roots of Witchcraft, Part 1

By Robin Le Fay

—Number 3 in a series of 4 articles about the roots of Witchcraft. This article originally appeared in Lady Letter, V4, no. 5, Litha/Lammas 1997.

This page was downloaded from www.ladywoods.org, the website of the coven of Our Lady of the Woods. It may be used for personal and educational purposes with credit to the author.

What role did the Celts play in the development of Witchcraft and in the survival of Pagan beliefs and practices after the beginning of the Christian era?

The Celtic People and Their Religion

In the light of the romanticism surrounding the Celts in popular publications, many readers are left with a simplified or exaggerated account. The word “Celtic” itself is misleading, for as a shorthand term it creates a convenient though inaccurate perception of a unified culture instead of the diverse group of tribes that had similarities in social structure, languages, and spiritual expressions. “The Celts” were named by the Greeks, who called the barbarians of the north “Keltoi.” The “Keltoi” had no writing and their beliefs and knowledge were transmitted orally. All that we have to go on are the Roman and Greek texts, sometimes confirmed by archeology, and the medieval Christian literature of Ireland and Wales. Also at our disposal are the various folk tales encompassing the Faerie Faith in the British Isles. With only a fragment of material to shed any clues on the nature of Celtic Paganism, we must proceed carefully to illuminate this aspect of our roots.

From Ireland to the fringe of Asia Minor, the Celtic tribes roamed and settled. The names and deeds of their warrior elite were praised by the poets as the movement of horse and cattle rocked the earth beneath them. In Gaul, Britain, and Ireland, kings and chieftains consulted seers who were custodians of the tribal law and doctors of natural philosophy and medicine: Druids, as they were called. The Druids were annihilated by the imperial persecution during the Roman conquests of the first and second centuries CE. We can only speculate what religious delegates filled these empty niches.

The beliefs of the Celtic religion are obscure; only parts remain from different time periods over vast geographic areas, leaving only a glimpse of the faith these people of the mists left behind.

Water, Fire, and Earth

In deciphering the key elements of the Celtic religion, one sees the relationship woven between the natural and supernatural realms—spirits and deities live in the landscape where humanity may come into contact with them and commune. Trees, hilltops, rivers, lakes, and wells are the spaces where these observances were held.

Water was a numinous force of life and death. Wells and springs were centers for healing

where pilgrims could come to make votive offerings to the resident goddess in order to

procure her curative aid. Coventina and Sulis from Britain are two such spring guardians.

Rivers were believed to be goddesses to who propitiatory gifts were given. Boann was a river spirit who gave the name to the river Boyne. Healing, regeneration, and fertility all play a part in the attributes found in the maternal deities associated with water. Today in Europe, rivers such as the Seine and Danube still bear the names of Celtic goddesses.

Very different in cosmology from modern pagans, the Celts saw the sun as female. Grian is a feminine noun in Gaelic for sun. Dia Greine was the Scottish name for the sun goddess. It needs to be stated that Scotland was founded by Irish pirates call “Scotti” who raided and settled the coasts of “Pictland and Caledonia,” replaced the Brythonic Celtic languages of the area with Gaelic.

Sulis was also a sun goddess who combined terrestrial and celestial qualities. Anu, or Aine, was the sun deity of the County of Munster in Ireland. She later became known as the Fairy Queen in local tales and is reminiscent of many Celtic deities who survived into the Christian periods. Her name contains in its meaning delight, harmony, brightness, glow, radiance, and glory. Croc Aine is the hill sanctuary of Aine near the lake of Lough Gur thought to be sacred. Ceremonies were held on the Summer Solstice via hybrid Christianized practices, and villagers climbed Croc Aine bearing torches in her honor. Faeries were also believed to attend the procession. Aine was thought to be the wife of Manannan Mac Lir, the god whose bed she rose from at dawn.

Evidence to support a solar dimension in association with the cult of a Mother-Goddess can be found during the Romano-Gallic period in Brittany and Gaul. Clay “venus” figurines, portrayed naked with a solar wheel and circles adorning their bodies, were discovered in domestic settings, healing springs, shrines, and graves. The sun goddess aided in matters of health and fertility and gave protection after death.

Fire was a vital force and retained a primary importance in observing the holidays of the year. Fire ceremonies were enacted as a type of sympathetic magic to aid the sun on her daily and yearly course. Beltine (pronounced in Gaelic “beyaltinah”), meaning bright or goodly fire, is an example of one fire festival surviving in the British Isles as May Day. At Lughnasa, another important fire holiday, effigies were burned to commemorate the passing of the harvest and to ward off the woes of the year.

Brighid (pronounced Bree-ed) was Celtic goddess associated with fire and solar symbolism; i.e., the Celtic cross an archaic sun symbol, fire was lit in her honor on Imbolc, the Gaelic seasonal festival on February 1. Fire was seen as inspiration, the source of poetic arts, smithcraft, and the healing power of the home hearth where peat fires were burned constantly in honor of Brede. In Kildare Ireland, a fire was once kept aflame perpetually, in reverence for the Christian saint who replaced the former goddess as a cult figure in the countryside. Many traditions of Celtic origin including the sanctity of fire and its ritual use survived Christianity through assimilation and hybrid forms of vernacular practice among rural people.

Mountains and hills were also seen as an extension of the divine feminine. Many mountains in Ireland and Scotland bear the name “Cailleach,” meaning “of the old woman.” High ground linked humanity with the heavens. Many fire ceremonies took place on the hilltops where the sacred flames were lit to properly honor the seasonal tide. The hill of Tara, where Irish kings were inaugurated and performed the scared marriage to the goddess of sovereignty who personified the land, and also the Paps of Anu in County Kerry Ireland, are both revered places.

Trees were particularly venerated in Celtic religions. They form bridges among the worlds: a tree's roots furrow deeply into the underworld; its trunk represents this world; and its branches spread high and wide, reaching heavenward. Deciduous trees represented the cyclical quality of life and symbolized continuity. Many tribes were named after certain trees; two examples from the Gaulish Celts are the Eburones, or the “Yew Tribe,” and the Lemovices, or the “People of the Elm.”

As commented on by classical writers from Rome, the Celts sometimes worshipped in groves, which in Ireland were called Fidnemed, and in Britain and Gaul, Nemeton. In the Fionn cycle from the Irish tales, Finn eats the Salmon of Knowledge who feeds on the nuts of the hazel trees surrounding the well of wisdom. Trees in general are sacred in

Irish myths, but especially believed to be holy and sacred sources of wisdom were the hazel, oak, yew, and ash. Honoring trees has survived into Christian times and well into the modern era, via the folk practices of dressing trees with ribbons on seasonal celebrations.

References

Bord, Janet and Colin. Earth Rites. Granada Publishing Limited, 1983.

Chadwick, Nora. The Celts. Penguin, 1971.

Cunliff, Barry. The Celtic World. St. Martins Press, 1990.

Dames, Michael. Mythic Ireland. Thames and Hudson, 1992.

Evans-Wentz, W. Y. The Fairy Faith in Celtic Countries. Carol Publishing Group, 1990.

Green, Miranda. Celtic Goddesses. George Braziller, 1996.

-----. Celtic Myths. British Museum Press, 1993.

-----. Symbol and Image in Celtic Religious Art. Routledge, 1989.

Hutton, Ronald. The Pagan Religions of the Ancient British Isles. 1991.

Jones, Prudence and Nigel Pennick. A History of Pagan Europe. Routledge, 1995.

Jones, Simon. The World of the Celts. Thames and Hudson, 1993.

Stewart, R. J. Celtic Gods, Celtic Goddesses. Blandford, 1990.

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by Cornelia Amiri

Sunny, floral scented days were a time of enchantment. Chiefly, the feast day of Beltane (pronounced Bell-teen or Bell-tawn) or the more modern May Day. Beltane meant Bell’s fire in honor of Belenus, the Celtic sun and healing god.  Invoking Belenus’ blessings, nine men gathered nine pieces of wood from nine of the sacred trees, such as oak, elm, ash, birch, holly, rowan, apple, alder, maple, and hawthorn. The tribe piled more wood on top, building two huge bon-fires which were called the needs fire. Druids kindled the blazes with sacred incantations.

Each family extinguished the center fires in their round hut and in rapt silence relit them with a torch of the new, needs fire. The Celts also smudged their faces with ashes from the Bell’s fire.  Further, they ritually drove their livestock between the needs fires. No small feat, for though cows and oxen are somewhat manageable, sheep can be difficult, and horses are more than skittish when goaded between blazing infernos. As the animals passed between the hot amber fire, Belenus purified them from all disease so they would fatten on the new grass, rather than grow sick from the cold, wet ground still under foot. Once the ceremony was finished, men and dogs drove the herds to summer pasture.

In baking bread or small cakes for Beltane, the Celts burned or marked one with ashes. In mock sacrifice, the person who drew the blackened cake had to jump over a small fire or in some celebrations perform the sword dance and in others they would walk across hot coals. 

A tree in the woods was chopped down for the maypole or a tribal tree was used each Beltane.  Men and women grabbed the soft colored feminine ribbons tied around the masculine, phallic pole and danced in an intertwining fashion, symbolizing the union the of the god and the goddess, the hand fasting of sun to earth. To the music of fife, harp, and bagpipe, Celts sung ancient mating songs. Between leaping, twirling dances, they fasted on boiled boar and gulped cupfuls of ale and mead.

Along with fire, Druids held that water was powerful. The most potent appeared magically.  So Celts collected the dew before dawn on Beltane. Those sprinkled with May dew were insured health, happiness, and lasting beauty.

May was the month of reawakening of the earth after a long, dormant winter. Picking wild flowers, basking in sunshine, dancing in the dew cover grass was what Beltane was all about.

*** 

Authors Bio: Cornelia Amiri draws on her love of history and fifteen years of research on the ancient Celts, to write tales of long swords, hot heroes, and warrior women. Ms. Amiri is the author of four Celtic/Romance novels, The Fox Prince, The Vixen Princess, Danger Is Sweet, and One Heart One Way, published with Awe-Struck e-books. She lives in Houston, TX with her wonderful son. http://www.myspace.com/CelticRomanceQueen

One Heart One Way http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=coEb_yxIDOc

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By Alan Shoemaker

Introduction: 

Shamanic healing has been here for thousands of years and will remain. During the "Age of Reason", we were led away from believing in things we could not see and hear; that we could not place in our hands and feel its weight. This contrived reality found its way to the Americas a little over 500 years ago and through force of arms, unknown viruses and the Spanish Inquisition, it ravaged cultures and humiliated the medicine men, taking away their Gods and forcing them into submission. There remained, however, a few daring souls who continued to practice their magic, hidden away from the death threats of the conquistadors.

At the University in Iquitos, Peru, can be found a scientist hard at work in his test tube laden lab processing one of the Sacred Power Plants, ayahuasca, into powder form. Ayahuasca is an entheogenic and medicinal cocktail that has been used for thousands of years by the jungle shamans. For years now, the professor has been busy trying to decipher the secrets of this ancient medicine, with few new results. The efforts in determining the alkaloids necessarily present to produce visions and hallucinations were easily accomplished, but as the professor says, "We still can not figure out how a group of five people all drinking the same ayahuasca at the same time can have the same hallucination at the same instant." Such is the pity in being a scientist.

"What you are trying to measure or weigh cannot be done." I said. "Whatever intricacies of this medicine you are trying to intellectually discover will always leave you one short. No matter what you do, how many tests you make, or how numerous the compounds you find, your scientific method will never get you to the bottom of this mystery. Why? Because you cannot measure God. You can not weigh the Divine." "Yes, I know that." He said. "But I am a scientist. This is what I must search for; what I have to do." What a thankless task, looking for the Light in a test tube. Maybe hell find it one day. Einstein did. Then he joined the Church. How do you factor the Divine into a scientific formula?

Science has come upon an interesting phenomenon within their studies of Quantum physics: The viewer may influence the outcome of an event. It has taken them until now to discover what the shamans have known forever.

The shaman, the "Maker of Myths", who classically keeps one foot in this world and the other with the spirits, is not to be confused with the brujo or witch, dancing with evil. Both are powerful. A shaman "holds hands with the Divine" working as a medium between this Worlds reality and the spiritual realm. They charm the divine into their rituals by prayer and song. Theirs is a world of visions and hallucinations, a world of Grace and Madness.

In these days there is an incredible need to keep your immune system high. It has been confirmed by allopathic medicine that ayahuasca and the other Sacred Power Plants are doing just that. According to some of the healers from Mexico, Ecuador, and Peru, the Sacred Power Plants might also affect a cure for AIDS. Within the mythologies handed down from the mountains of the Andes to the jungles of the Amazon is the same prognostication: The circle has come round - the time is now. Shortly, we will witness a move back to the magic and etherealness of our ancestors, and the rebirth of Shamanism. It is in that realm that we shall ultimately heal all our wounds, for it is there that the soul, the body, and the mind are one and can be cured as a whole, rather than in parts.

Perhaps in the last five hundred years the focus of our world, on industrialization, technology and progress, has moved too fast. As for me, I have taken a giant step back, together with the knowledge of the present, to the medicine forgotten, to the curative powers of the plants and their spirits, to the healers who work through nature cleansing the body and who, through the all-encompassing divinations of the spirits and the Gods, purify the soul. For in that place we heal not only our physical selves, but also we continually connect with the universal life force carried within each of us and shared by all. The more each and every one of us, throughout the World, understands this principle, and the sooner we realize that a sickness of the body, mind or spirit is within the ether that we all share, the more likely that we, as a whole, will begin to live in health, peace and harmony."

"Grace and Madness"

July, 1999 Chapter One:

Seven years ago, under a rain-swept shop canopy on Amazons street, a wet gringo shouldered into some shelter. "Tourist?" I asked, after a moment. We were so close together it would have been uncomfortable to stand there much longer in silence. He studied me a few seconds before deciding to speak. "No, Ive been comin here to Quito a couple months a year for the last 12 years." He continued, explaining how he was by profession a Louisiana schoolteacher but searched for gold in the Andes three months a year. "Hows it going?" I asked. "Its been gettin better every year. Last year I was really close - almost found it," he said, exuberantly. What a strange statement, I marvelled. "Almost? How do you know when youve almost found it?" I asked. "Ive got a map!" He proudly stated. I wish I had a map, I thought. "What brings you here?" He asked.

Why I would go into the details of my quest I do not know, but I found myself explaining to the gold hunting, Louisiana schoolteacher that I had come looking for a shaman. I felt silly using the vernacular, shaman, but curandero, the correct term for the healers in South America, is way too confusing for the ordinary traveller. Besides, gringos have been telling the curanderos that they are shamans for so long; many refer to themselves this way. "I came down by land three months ago, through Mexico and Central America to Columbia, and finally to Quito. Ive been travelling with Roberto here, from Venice, California. Roberto, this is, ... what did you say your name was?" "I didnt, but its Joe," he said, shaking our hands. I met Roberto back in Tucson a couple of months earlier, when his name was still Robert. I was to be the photographer for an expedition Robert had organized, to the Amazon. Of the 6 members in the party, I was the only one that showed up. I met Roberto when he knocked on my hotel room door. I opened it to a man with long, platinum blonde hair and a chest puffed out. Strutting like a rooster and eyes the size of chicken eggs. Following a quick conversation, "You must be Robert." He reached up high with his right hand, pulling an imaginary train whistle and yelled, "Whewwwwwww!" I completely understood why the other members of the expedition would not arrive. Robert was the epitome of the stereotypical, Venice-Californian, new age hipster. After quick introductions, he changed my name: "Dude", he said, holding his palm up looking to slap mine in a high-five salute. In the two, too long, months we had been travelling together I heard my name, Alan, only enough times to jog my memory. When we walked across the border into Mexico he changed is name too. He was Roberto now. "When in Spain," he said. Robert and I decided to continue with the expedition, even though the rest of the party never arrived. I had a difficult time getting him to agree that he was no longer leading a party, as I was the only member.

Joe, the schoolteacher, reached into his back pocket………..

For more on Grace and Madness please go to: http://www.ayahuasquero.com/article_details.php?sbiz_id=28

For information on The 3rd International Amazonian Shamanism Conference: http://www.soga-del-alma.org/ConferenceSite/

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http://www.everythingakasha.homestead.com/files/Balance.htm

By Link

Imagine living in a time where all things were sacred, in a place where everything you touched was part of a Goddess or God. Since all things were divine, each had a patron Deity. From doorways to ovens, from the farm, to the hunt, to the birth of anything new -- all was special and blessed. While these ideas certainly lived in ancient times, they still live with us today. The Old Ones live in new things too.

New things, born of modern technology and shaped by human hands, are as much a gift as the timeless rivers and the endless seas. We often trivialize things made by humans and see them as less beautiful than other "natural" creations. But we too are part of nature, not something separate. It is our nature to make things, the way a forest makes trees and trees make leaves. Our colorful works of art, our music, our architecture, our discoveries in electronics, medicine and even a simple home-baked apple pie are all a part of nature.

If you can see the everyday things around you as divine, you just might see some Old Friends. Can you see the Goddess of the Hunt living today within your job search, or maybe within a simple trip to buy groceries? Can you see the Ibis-headed God of Writing living within your computer, or maybe within that special letter you pen for someone dear? Do Pan's pipes sing to you just as clearly through your favorite stereo? Can Mars do battle in the Cola Wars, or any other facet of a competitive business? Who else can you see within the modern objects around you? Who glows within the fire in your electrical devices? What messenger travels through the copper communications link of your phone line? Who ebbs and flows within the watery tides of your household plumbing? Technology has filled our surroundings with aspects of the Old Ones we may never have noticed before. Things we create come from our own unique inspiration, our own insight into that special spark within. The gifts we find without, all stem from what we find within.

Seeing the divinity in all things is not easy at a time where "building too many things" has hurt our fragile eco-system. While we may enjoy the gifts of our technology, we are also challenged to use them wisely, enjoying them in moderation. Doing so will ensure that we continue to build new doorways and ovens for a long, long time to come.

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By Betty King

Looking out over our neighborhood, standing alone in their nakedness, the trees spoke to me the other day in a gentle whisper. "Learn from me," they seemed to murmur.

There are trees not much more than saplings, and then there are well-rooted trees that have stood unyielding for generations. Oak, maple and birch, pine, weeping willow and locus and pear, along with a vast array of other trees, are mingled in and around our neighborhood.

Trees seem to each respect the other, not bothering to show aggression or prejudice nor do they object to sharing the soil that nurtures and feeds them. What lessons we can learn from them!

I see knotholes, stripped bark, and woodpecker holes, even broken limbs, yet their remaining branches are lifted heavenward as if seeking strength from God to help them survive, yet, another winter.

The older the tree, the deeper its roots and the taller its stance. In age there are benefits that so often go unnoticed; oh, that humanity and its youth could see the wisdom that age can contribute.

Squirrels scamper along the fencerow and scurry up to their nest in the boughs of the tree, and I marvel that trees do not feel the invasion; if only we people were so eager to help those who were needy.

Birds rest from flight and woodpeckers continue their drumming as I watch and listen to further whispered wisdom; rest for the weary and provisions for the hungry are such simple things to provide.

As saplings mature and their roots grow deeper and they become giants in their service, despite those who ignore or abuse them, I stand amazed at their continued loyalty amidst struggles.

Winds blow and snow falls and disease threatens even the mature and the aged; trees never outgrow the hardships of living and providing. They seem to find adversity strengthens them; if we humans in our troubles would only look  for the strength we can gain through our adversities.

The cold winter season calls for the tree's apparel to change from its leafy green to a natural brown or winter white or an icy-clear. There is never  complaining they have nothing to wear. Being content in whatever state you find  yourself has been practiced for centuries by those who stand with dignity, even when stripped down to their bark; if only we people would take lessons from them.

In the Redwood Forest age is revered. There trees have distinction for longevity and are respected and admired by all who witness their honored position; we humans would do well to respect those qualities in our own species.

How many people ponder upon the adversities trees have survived? Those who make it through centuries of hardships and continue to grow have learned to face harsh conditions of all kinds; let their lessons reach we who must endure  hardships for long periods of time.

There are insects and diseases, wild life invasions and human disregard  for conservation. The beauty amidst hardship never ceases to amaze me when it comes to nature.

We people who live with diseases, we who are often ignored or passed over or mistreated, must not wallow in self-pity but persevere and be an example to others with our faith and our will.

I hear the whisper of wisdom as the wind blows through the branches and feel the cold chill down my spine as I see the snowfall.

But I know the whispered murmurs are really for me. I know age can bring  wisdom, and adversities can strengthen, and that I can see good and helpfulness in mankind, if I only look for it.

I challenge you, too, to look around you each day and see the messages God  supplies to you in nature, in friends, in your brother or sister, in mankind.

So much of life is given to us as instructions for us to gleam wisdom, to be in awe of, not ignore or treat passively.

If only we spent as much time seeking wisdom as we do complaining. If only we trusted God the way nature does. If only we sought contentment as much  as we seek "things," we too could be pillars of strength to those who look upon  us seeking for answers to life.

Listen to the murmuring of the trees - what are they telling you?

2006 Betty King

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By Donna Henes, Urban Shaman*

 I won't be made useless

I won't be idle with despair

—Jewel, from "Hands"

The media likes to portray peace, environment and human and animal rights protesters as a fringe element of whining malcontent sickos teetering on the margins of proper society. The truth is that those who step forward to speak their mind are happier and healthier folks than most.

Protesting is not complaining nor is it sending out negative messages. Pro means "for," "in favor of." Test means, "to speak," as in testify and testimony. So, protest actually means, "to speak for." Protest is a completely positive endeavor.

Albert Einstein said, "The world is dangerous not because of those who do harm, but because of those who look at it without doing anything…Nothing that I can do will change the structure of the universe. But maybe by raising my voice I can help the greatest of all causes -- goodwill among men and peace on earth."

A new study by John Drury, professor of social psychology at the University of Sussex in England, shows that it is good for you to protest. Even though protesters may be depressed about the state of the world, their physical and mental ailments improve dramatically as a result of taking part in a group effort for change and the betterment of conditions.

Involvement in social causes and participation in political demonstrations banishes sensations of isolation, discouragement and impotence and replaces them with an exhilarating awareness of connectedness, well-being and empowerment.

When people participate in large-scale protests they get swept up in a communal mood of optimism that feeds their feelings of hope. They believe that their actions can help to change the course of history. "Collective action can therefore be a life-changing, uplifting and life-enhancing experience," concludes Drury.

A small body of determined spirits

fired by an unquenchable faith in their mission

can alter the course of history.

—Mahatma Gandhi

So let's get out there this crucial week and shout out our disapproval of the deadly policies of this administration. Let us project, instead, our own healthy, positive vision of the possibility of peace, justice, and the true American Way. And may we each manifest this vision in the purity of our thoughts, words, and deeds every minute of every single day.

Join us in spirit and support from where ever you are.

With utmost blessings of Peace,

Mama Donna

* (c) Permission is granted to copy, reproduce, re-print or promulgate in any manner this copyrighted material so long as correct attribution and contact information is included.

*******************************

Donna Henes, Urban Shaman, is a contemporary ceremonialist specializing in multi-cultural ritual celebration of the cycles of the seasons and the seasons of our lives.

She is the author of The Queen of My Self, The Moon Watcher's Companion,

Celestially Auspicious Occasions, and Dressing Our Wounds In Warm Clothes, as well as the CD, Reverence To Her: Mythology, The Matriarchy & Me. She is also the editor and publisher of the highly acclaimed quarterly journal, Always In

Email: CityShaman@aol.com

http://www.DonnaHenes.net

http://www.TheQueenofMySelf.com

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As posted by: "ancientwarrior" in Pagan 4 Peace Yahoo Group

Excerpt from the SECRET HISTORY OF THE WITCHES .... Copyright 2000 Max Dashu

The Old Goddess of the pagans lived on in popular speech, in rituals of hearth and earth, in festival custom with its cargo of symbol and myth. She was still seen as the source of life power and wisdom. People prayed to her for well-being, abundance, protection, and healing. They invoked her in birth, and the dead returned to her (especially the unbaptized) and moved in her retinue. They said that the Old Goddess rode the winds, causing rain and snow and hail on earth, and that she revealed omens of weather and deaths and other momentous things to come.

Across Europe, Friday was observed as her holy day, beginning with its eve on Thursday night. The dark of the year was sacred to Old Goddess. On winter solstice nights, she was said to fly over the land with her spirit hosts. Tradition averred that shamanic witches rode in her wake on the great pagan festivals, along with the ancestral dead.

Reverence was made to Old Goddess in planting and harvesting, baking, spinning and weaving. The fateful Spinner was worshipped as Holle or Perchta by the Germans, as Mari by the Basques, and as Laima by the Lithuanians and Latvians. She appears as Befana in Italy and as myriad faery goddesses in France, Spain, and the Gaeltacht. In Serbia she is Srecha; in Russia she is Mokosh or Kostroma or the apocryphal saint Paraska.

I call her the Old Goddess because she was commonly pictured as an aged woman, and her veneration was ancient. While the goddesses of the various ethnic cultures have their unique qualities, they share certain traits, some international deep root of commonality. Old Goddess is like the weathered Earth, ancestor of all, an immanent presence in forests, grottos and fountains. In her infinitude she manifests in countless forms, as females of various ages and shapeshifting to tree, serpent, frog, bird, deer, mare and other creatures. In the middle ages and even under the downpour of diabolism during the Burning Terror, she remained beloved by the common people.

THE OLD GODDESS / FRIDAY GODDESS OF THE WITCHES

Andra Mari ... (Euskadi / Basques)

Laima ... (Lithuania, Latvia)

Nicniven, Gyre Carline ...(Scotland)

Hulda ... (Denmark)

Holle, Holda, Fraw Holt ... (north Germany)

Perchta, Perhta Baba, Zlata Baba ... (south Germany, Austria)

Fraw Saelde, Zälti ... (Austria)

Luca, Szepasszony. .. (Hungary)

Saint Friday ... (Estonia)

Mokosh / Paraskeva ... (Russia)

Dame Habonde, Abundia ... (France)

Befana (Epiphania) ... (Sicily)

Signora Oriente, Diana, Signora del gioco, Sapiente Sibillia ... (Italy)

Holle was already described as a witch goddess in the 9th century Corrector Burchardi, which rebuked the belief that shamanic women rode animals through the skies in her company in the dark of night. Many centuries later, these beliefs were still current. Holle was said to head a wild cavalcade of spirits, witches and the dead, especially in the dark of the year.

At Giessen her visits were anticipated in a proverbial saying: Die Holle kommt. “The Holle comes” in storms, riding the winds. German peasants said that witches fared to Holle's sacred mountain on the old holydays. [Rüttner-Cova, 150, compares Hollefahren (Holle's journey) to Hexenfarhten (the travelling of witches).]

Her name means "the beneficent one." Holle protects the hearth and watches over the distaff and flax baskets placed near it. Her gifts—coal, wood, flax pods—seem insignificant but turn out to have unimagined value.

Holle creates whirlwinds and snowfall. She brings life-force to the land, causing growth, abundance and good fortune. Her yearly circling of the fields brings rich crops. Hulda and her Seligen (“happy ones”) roam across the land where flax will be planted. [Pocs, 74] According to Alberus, the women travelling in Hulda's host carried sickles. [Grimm, 476] Such myths reflect actual rituals blessing the flax fields, like the Slovenian ceremonies in honor of the Mittwinterfrau, another form of the Old Goddess. [Pocs, 76]

In lower Saxony, Harke or frau Harke flies over the fields as a dove, making them fruitful. [Grimm, 1364. He notes that a folktale presents Harke as a witch's daughter.] Holle also shapeshifts into a frog to retrieve the red apple of life from a well. [Gimbutas, Language of the Goddess, 255] As the Haulemutter of the Harz mountains, she has the power to become huge or tiny. She is a shaggy-haired, hump-backed old woman who walks with a crutch.

Holle also appears as a young woman bathing in the midday sun, combing her hair or playing enchantingly beautiful music. A young woman with a crown of candles impersonated her on winter holiday. Or she was dressed in straw, flanked by women with sickles. More often, though, Holle is a fateful crone goddess who initiates young woman and rewards them according to their merits. She is especially pleased with compassion and generosity.

The folktale of Frau Holle's Well takes up this theme. A mistreated stepdaughter was made to spin til blood ran from her fingers. She went to wash the spindle in the well, and it fell in. The cruel stepmother told her she had to go in and get it out. The girl jumped into the well and lost consciousness. She awoke in a beautiful sunny meadow full of flowers. She began to walk and soon came to an oven full of baking bread. The oven called out to her, asking her to take out the loaves before they burned. She willingly complied. Then she came to a tree loaded with ripe apples. It asked her to shake them down, and she did that too.

At last the girl came to a cottage where an old woman with big teeth sat looking out at her. The girl was afraid at first, but the crone reassured her. She asked her to stay with her and help around the house, especially to shake her down comforter so that the feathers flew, causing snow on earth. “I'm Frau Holle.”

The girl stayed with the old woman and led a comfortable life with plenty of good food. But after a while she became homesick. Frau Holle offered to take her back to her world. She led the stepdaughter under a big gate, which showered down gold that stuck to her. Walking through the gate, the girl saw she was not far from her house. She returned to her family and told them the whole story.

When her stepsister saw how Frau Holle had treated her, she decided to also pay a visit to the world under the well. She passed through the same cycle of events, but refused to take the bread out of the magical oven or to shake the apple tree, and avoided work at Holle's cottage. When she passed through the gate, she was drenched with tar. [Grimm's GFT]

The plunge into a magical well, the old woman deep in the earth, the apple tree in the abundant land, the bread that the faeries bake—these are old animist images. Holle's quilt whose feathers become snow is linked with the old tales of Goosefoot Bertha and Mother Goose. A Welsh proverb says: “When snow falls people say, 'The old woman is feathering her geese,' or 'Mother Goose is moulting,' or 'The goosemother is feathering her nest.'“ [Trevelyan, 119]

The Goose Mother appears in another Grimm tale, as an old wisewoman living in a mountain forest with her flock of geese. Great age did not prevent her from working energetically. She walked around gathering up huge bundles of grass and fruit and carried them home on her back. She called out cheerful greetings but some people mistrusted her. Fathers warned their sons, “Watch out for the old woman; she's a sly one and a witch.” [Grimm's GFT, 575]

Like Frau Holle, the wisewoman took in a misunderstood daughter. This one’s father had disowned her after she told him that she loved him as much as food loves salt. He cast her off for filial ingratitude. The old woman took her in as a goosegirl, disguising her with gray hair and a false skin that sloughed off. One day the old woman talked a noble youth into carrying her load for her. He was barely able to pick it up, much less carry it for miles, but she shamed him into it. At last he decided to put it down in spite of her mockery and found that he was unable to. The young aristocrat was forced to trudge on under the magical burden. Toward the journey's end, the crone jumped on top of the load and rode him home.

After he was at last free of her, the count's son noticed the goosegirl washing off her disguise at the spring. To make a long story short, he wanted to marry her and led her remorseful parents to the goosegirl. The old woman gave her cottage to her, and it turned into a fantastic, abundantly provisioned palace. In this story, the Goose goddess shapes destiny, brings about justice, and bestows good fortune.

Divine Spinners

The earliest known sources show the Old Goddess as a spinner. She is Fate, whose spinning has immense creative force in time and space. A Finnish kenning for the sun — “God's Spindle” — reflects her power. [Kalevala, 32, 20, in Grimm, 1500] The Goddess's spinning and weaving also “symbolize the creation of matter, especially of human flesh.” [Matossian, 120]

There are countless avatars of the spinning goddess: Mari of the Basques, Holle of Germany, Laima of Lithuania and Latvia, Mokosh of Russia, the old Frankish Berthe Pedauque, They include local fatas such as Tante Arie in French Switzerland, Habetrot in Britain, and the Wendish Pshi-Polnitsa.

Among the Greeks, the spinner Fates are threefold, the ancient, mighty Moirae. This triunity is repeated in innumerable folk traditions all over medieval and early modern Europe. French peasants of Saintonge said that the fades (fates) or bonnes (“good women”) roamed in the moonlight as three old women, always carrying distaffs and spindles. The fades had prophetic powers and cast lots. They were seen along the banks of the Charente river, or near certain grottos, or near megalithic monuments. [Michon, Statistique de la Charente, in Sebillot I 444]

In Berry, a white faery carrying a distaff was said to walk on certain nights at the edge of an old mardelle called Spinner's Hole. Three pale ladies spun their distaffs by the Faeries' Rock near Langres. A spinner could be heard at Villy, but was only seen at dawn or dusk. [Sebillot, Metiers, 23-4] Portuguese women made offerings to faeries whose name shows its derivation from “the dianas”:

In the Algarve the memory is not extinct of female creatures called jãs or jans, for whom it used to be customary to leave a skein of flax and a cake of bread on the hearth. In the morning the flax would be spun as fine as hair and the cake would have disappeared. [Gallop, 58]

Women in western France made similar offerings. In the Landes, women placed fine flax at the entrance of caves or the edge of fountains inhabited by the hades, who instantly turned it into thread.

It was once believed that the faeries would come to the aid of spinners who implored them; in Upper Bretagne, if buttered bread and a flax doll was placed at the entrance to one of their grottos, the next day it would be found very well spun in the same place. [Sebillot, Metiers, 23-4]

Even in the far north, in a very different cultural world, the spinning wheel was sacred to the spring goddess of the Saami. She is the spirit maiden Rana Nedie, who makes the mountains green and feeds the reindeer. When sacrifices were made to her, they rubbed the blood on a spinning wheel and leaned it against her altar. [find cite]

The spinning faeries are often encountered near water. A Welsh faery woman would emerge from Corwrion Pool to spin on beautiful summer days, singing to herself, “Sìli ffrit, sìli ffrit...” Another tale says a faery used to borrow things from a Llyn farmwoman, but wouldn't give her name. Once she borrowed a spinning wheel. The woman overheard her singing while spinning, “Little did she know/ That Sìli go Dwt/ Is my name.” [Rhys II, 584, compares Silly Frit and Sìli go Dwt with the Scottish seelie (591) as in “seelie wights,” helpful faeries.]

The border Scots revered Habetrot as the goddess of spinners. She is seen near water, usually by a “holey” stone that is a gateway to the Otherworld. Habetrot appears as a helper and initiator of girls, bringing good fortune to them. It was said that “a shirt made by her was a sovereign remedy for all sorts of diseases.” [Briggs, 216] (More on her in another installment. )

Another spinning water faery was the Loireag. Warping, weaving, and washing of webs were her sacraments, and she saw to it that women followed the traditions. Singing was one of them, and it had to be melodious. A modern source dismisses the Loireag as “a small mite of womanhood that does not belong to this world but to the world thither” and “a plaintive little thing, stubborn and cunning.” [from Carmichael's Carmina Gadelica, in Briggs, 271]

Scottish faery lore is full of spinning and weaving. The Gyre-Carling, queen of the “good neighbors” (faery folk) oversaw the work of spinners in Fife. [Briggs, 325] The faeries could sometimes be heard chanting waulking songs: Ho! fir-e! fair-e, foirm! Ho! Fair-eag-an an cló! (“Well done, grand, bravo the web!”). Border Scots believed in the thrumpin, a fateful guardian with the power to take life, or Thrummy-cap, a faery wearing a hat made of wool that weavers clipped from the ends of their webs. [Evans-Wentz, 395]

The French said that faery divinities came to houses to spin on certain nights. An Alsatian ballad pictured them as three fates: “When midnight sounds / not a soul in the village awake / Then three spectres glide in the window/and sit at the three wheels / They spin, their arms moving silently / the threads hum rapidly onto the spindles...” As they finish, an owl cries from the cemetery, “What will become of the fine fabric/ and will there again be three engagement robes?” [Sebillot, M, 15]

Spring gossamer was often explained as the craft of faeries. An Italian saying—“See how much the three Marias have spun tonight”—substitutes a Christian name for the old triune goddess. [Grimm, 1533] The sacraments of spinning and weaving were transferred to certain saints: Germana of Bar-sur-Aube; Lucie of Sampigny, whose stone helped women conceive; and Genovefa of Brabant, who was said to sit behind the altar at the Frauenkirchen (“women's church”) where the buzz of her spinning wheel could be heard. [Eckenstein, 25-6]

The spinning sow appears in folklore from Wales to Russia.

Church sculpture at Malestroit, Morbihan, 1400s.

Spinning faeries often appear to help out children burdened with work. A Manx servant girl asked the spiders to help her with a load of spinning. Not only did they spin her wool, but they wove her a gorgeous shawl out of their own thread. [Briggs, 138] In a Swiss Romande tale, a girl's parents made her spin a full distaff, and herd the cattle too. “One day a fee came to ask her hospitality in her chalet, and having been well received, she came every evening to take her distaff, put it in the horns of one of the cows that was going to pasture, then, sitting on the brave beast's back, she began to spin by moonlight, for the benefit of her protegée, and each morning she returned her distaff filled with skeins of beautiful fine thread.” [Sebillot, M, 23]

“German legend is full of spinning and weaving women,” as Grimm pointed out. They make magical mantles or other clothing, like “the robe that a wild faery (wildiu feine) span.” A Westphalian tradition says, “in the cave sits an old spinster...” This cavern-dweller prophesies to those who seek her advice. The elves, too, are often described as weavers. [Grimm, 1402, 407, 447]

The Swedish hill troll Dame Soåsan was also associated with the spinster’s craft. “To those who were careful not to offend her the woman exhibited much kindness and extended many favors.” She helped a starving old woman by offering her flax to spin. But she laid a condition: the woman should not wet the thread with spittle, since she had been christened. The old spinner left the yarn in a glade and received silver pieces in return. She prospered, until she stopped keeping faith with the trolls and wet the thread with her spit. Then she got lost in the woods, and when she returned home, all her silver had turned to pebbles. [Booss, 254-6]

In a Norwegian folk tale, a girl goes in quest to find a prince who lives “East of the Sun and West of the Moon.” She ascends a mountain, “where an old woman was sitting and spinning on a golden spinning wheel.” She lends the girl a horse, gives her a golden spinning wheel, and advises her to ask the east wind for help. [Booss, 63-70]

An old Estonian tradition says that Vana-ema (Old Mother) will spin all night if you leave out a distaff and thread. In some districts Estonians called this spinner the Grandmother or the Night Mother. She was connected to the dead and the underworld spinning women (maa-aluste naised). [Matossian, 121] Estonian peasants used to explain the strange ticking sound of wall moths as the spinning of the Twilight Mother.

The old women said that if you wake up at night and upon awakening hear that something is purring in the corner, then you should try to put your hand on it; then the twilight mother's spinning wheel will stop and her power to work will stay in your hand; if someone was an excellent spinner, it was said that she had touched the twilight mother's spinning wheel. [Loorits, 1948, 62, in Paulson, 149]

The megalithic sanctuaries built by the elder kindreds of Europe remained an enduring presence on the landscape in the wake of invasions and migrations, long after the peoples who built them were submerged in the ethnic tide. The ancient lore surrounding the great stone monuments became mixed with new religions and stories, but retained its emphasis on powerful women and goddesses. In medieval Europe these sacred stories survived as the fairy faith, where female deities and land spirits mix with the ancestral dead.

International folk tradition credits the faeries with raising dolmens and other megalithic monuments. These accounts laid great emphasis on the builders' power as spinners, typically saying that a fata or goddess or lady carried the giant stones on her head while walking and spinning.

Dolmen of Losa Mora, Rodellar, Aragon

An old Aragonese legend of the Dalle Morisca said that “a woman appeared who spun with her distaff and carried the great horizontal stone of the dolmen on her head. As she reached the place where the dolmen of Rodellar now stands, she set the stone in the position in which she had carried it.” [Gari Lacruz, 287] In Portugal, a spinning moura carried the wonderfully carved Pedra Formosa of Citania de Briteiros. [Gallop, 77]

The Basques named a dolmen at Mendive after the lamiñas. One of them brought the capstone from faraway Armiague balanced on her head, spinning as she went. In some versions she carried the boulder on her little finger. [Sebillot IV 21] The goddess Holle also carried off a boulder on her thumb, according to Germans of the Meisner district. [Grimm] Another Basque tradition says that the witches built dolmens in a single night, carrying stones from the mountains on the tips of their distaffs. [Barandiaran, 173]

This theme of “one night’s work” recurs in Irish traditions of megaliths built by the Cailleach (crone). The Maltese also tell it of their ancient temples . A woman with a baby at her breast is said to have created the oldest of them, the Ggantija. “Strengthened by a meal of magic beans, she is said to have taken the huge blocks of stone to the site in a single day, and then to have built the walls by night.” [von Cles-Reden, 78] The Ggantija is on Gozo island, which Greek tradition called the island of Calypso, daughter of Oceanus. The Maltese still point out her cave below Ggantija, which an 18th century writer describes as a labyrinth. [Biaggi, 13-14]

The Ggantija

A dolmen in Devon was called The Spinners’ Rock. English tradition says that three spinning women erected the megalith one morning before breakfast, amusing themselves on the way to deliver wool they had spun. [Stone Pages, joshua.micronet. it/untesti/ dmeozzi/homeng. html, 6-97] Dous Fadas, a dolmen on the road from Clermont to Puy in Auvergne, was named after fées who spun as they carried its stones. In the Dordogne valley three young women elevated the standing stones of Brantôme with their distaffs. In the upper Loire valley three spinning fées carried stones on their heads to build the dolmens at Langeac. [Sebillot IV 21]

The French folklorist Sebillot noted that many menhirs are shaped like distaffs or loaded spindles. They were said to have been put in place by supernatural spinners. [Sebillot, 5] In 1820 peasants near Simandre in Ain told a researcher that the Spindle of the Faery Woman, a great standing stone, had been placed there by la Fau who carried it in her arms. It was the only one left of three menhirs planted in the ground by three fées on their way to a gathering. [Tardy, Le Menhir de Simandre, 1892,