Sunday Bonus Post – Breast Cancer: A Witches Story

May 2, 2010 at 6:53 pm (Magic, pagan, Story, Sunday, Witch)

Breast Cancer: A Witches Story

Author: Lady Abigail [a WitchVox Sponsor]
found at Witchvox

It had been a peculiar day and I was confused with all the unfamiliar sensations that keep coming into my spirit. I was setting on the back porch swing with my one leg hanging down so I could keep moving. I was starring into the nothingness of something I could not explain. Even the air moving across my skin seemed to be saturated with a confused energy going from warm to cool and back again. I must have been deep into the consideration of it all when my Great Grandmother walked out from the kitchen. “You all right Little One, or did someone walk across your grave?” Just then I could hear thunder rolling up from the valley across the hilltops. First soft and gentle, then louder like it was gaining power as it moved along.

My Great Grandmother sat down with me on the swing and smiled as if she knew every deep thought I was having. “Don’t worry honey, ” she said. “Sometimes our spirits quicken like butterflies leaving a cocoon. We know there is more life for us to live but our spirits fear we want get to it all in time.” I guess as children we can’t really understand that there may not be enough time, that something can change every single moment of our life. That we may have to fight to get out of that cocoon and set our spirits free to live.

I hate going to doctors and on this day as I hung up the phone I was thinking how I really didn’t have the time to waste going to the doctor or sitting in an office to get a mammogram. I was pretty good about going; I have a family history of breast cancer, but you know how it is, it will never happen to you. I made the appointment anyway; begrudging the time I could be doing something else. In a few weeks I found myself sitting there in my little paper waist shirt waiting for someone to come into the room and tell me all the x-rays and ultrasounds were good.

Then I had that feeling come over me again; that feeling I had in childhood when my Great Grandmother would ask me if someone was walking over my grave. You know you never expect anything to be wrong, or maybe we don’t want to think it is possible but life can change in an instant.

The doctor walked into the office and before she could say a word, I could feel the tears running down my cheeks. I shook my head as if I could make it all go away but I couldn’t. It was real and I had breast cancer. It was only a few days until I was in the hospital undergoing a double mastectomy.

At that time I believed that my world and my life was changing and I no longer had any control of anything. I cried, I grieved, I asked why me. Okay, why not me. As a child of the Goddess I believe that everything we are given in life it to teach us, but it is also given to us that we, perhaps in some small way might help others if and when they face the same kinds of struggles.

I have to tell you there is nothing that will slap you back into reality as fast as looking down to where you once had breasts and finding none. In this moment you can either give into grief or find the guiding power to heal and survive.
I could hear my Great Grandmother speaking to me just like she did as a child on that old porch swing. I could feel that my spirit was worried I wouldn’t have enough time to do all I wanted to do in my life. I was going to have to fight for and it and I did.

No one wants to have this terrible disease. But I did, and as breast cancer survivors will tell you, I always will have it; like some monster hidden behind a tree that might jump out and scare the crap out of you anytime and at any moment. It’s there and not only there for me, but my daughter and my granddaughter.

Every person in America knows or will know someone with breast cancer in his or her lifetime. Sadly it could also be you. My faith in the Goddess and Her ability to heal me from my fears and this disease, I believe, was one of the greatest gifts of recovery I had.

My gift in return is to help others be aware.

Each April, we have the ‘Breast Cancer Walk for the Cure’ events in many areas of the country. These walks are extremely important to me and the hundreds of thousands of us all over the world that are breast cancer survivors. For that reason I have shared here my story as a Witch with breast cancer.

Breast cancer is a killer. It has no respect for human life, it doesn’t care what your income might be and it could care less where you live. Breast cancer is disease that can strike anyone at anytime, men and women. It is my hope that in sharing these few words of my survival of breast cancer, it will somehow help others to be aware.

Breast Cancer Facts:

  • Over 40, 000 people will die of breast cancer this year in the United States.
  • One out of every seven women will develop breast cancer
  • A woman’s chances of developing breast cancer increases with age: (I was in my 40‘s)
  • Approximately 200, 000 cases of breast cancer will occur in the United States this year.

Traits common to breast cancer survivors:

  • They are well informed and take control of their treatment
  • They know cancer is just a symptom and make life-style changes
  • And most importantly, they have a positive attitude.

I share my story and ask that everyone become a part of every woman’s, and yes man’s, survival by supporting and doing what you can do to fight this killer of life.
Let us be the cure.
Blessings and have a magickal pink day.
Lady Abigail
Copyright © 03252010 Reposted with permission of the author

Disclaimer: No one involved in this blog or its contents may be held responsible for any adverse reactions arising from following any of the instructions/recipes on this list. It is the reader’s personal responsibility to exercise all precautions and use his or her own discretion if following any instructions or advice from this blog.

Fair Use Notice: This page may contain copyrighted material the use of which has not been specifically authorized by the copyright owner. This website distributes this material without profit to those who have expressed a prior interest in receiving the included information for research and educational purposes. We believe this constitutes a fair use of any such copyrighted material as provided for in 17 U.S.C § 107.

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Bonus Post – We Are Not

December 23, 2009 at 1:50 am (pagan, Story, Witch)

Written & Originally Posted by Sama
Reposted with permission – thanks Love
Big Grin!!!

f7ae0faf

we do not say to others
this you must believe
or you will burn.
or, ours is the only truth
you must believe.
for we have found our own way
to the gods
and in the finding
we have found ourselves
our truths, our own beliefs
and not some words forced on us
by another.
we do not kneel in fear
of some avenging deity
who claims to love us
and yet threatens us beside.
we stand before the ones
we worship, now and ever
knowing that they see us
and accept us.
as we are.

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Wednesday Whatever – Why Christmas Trees Aren’t Perfect

December 9, 2009 at 11:38 am (Acceptance, Christmas, Decoration, Folklore, Magic, pagan, Sacred Woods, Story, Wednesday, Witch, Yule)

Why Christmas Trees Aren’t Perfect
by Richard H. Schneider (with minor changes made by me…)
Found at Follow Your Dreams

They say that if you creep into an evergreen forest late at night you can hear the trees talking. If you listen very carefully to the whisper of the wind, you can hear the older pines telling the younger ones why they will never be perfect. They will always have a bent branch here, a gap there.

But long, long ago all evergreen trees were perfect. Each one took special pride in branches that sloped smoothly down from pointed top to evenly shaped skirt. This was especially true in a small kingdom far beyond the Carpathian Mountains in Europe. Here the evergreen trees were the most beautiful of all. For here the sun shone just right, not too hot, not too dim. Here the rain fell just enough to keep the ground moist and soft so no tree went thirsty. And here the snow fell gently day after day to keep every branch fresh and green. Each year as Christmas approached, the Queen’s woodsmen would search the royal evergreen forest for the most perfect, most beautiful tree. The one fortunate enough to be chosen would be cut on the first Saturday of Advent. It would then be carefully carried to the castle and set up in the center of the great hall. There it reigned in honor for all the Christmas celebrations.

Out in the hushed forest every evergreen hoped for this honor. Each tree tried to grow its branches and needles to perfection. All of them strained to have the best form and appearance. One tree, Small Pine, grew near the edge of the forest and promised to be the most beautiful of all. As a seedling it had listened carefully to the older trees who knew what was best for young saplings. And it had tried so very hard to grow just right. As a result, everything about Small Pine, from its deep sea-green color to the curling tip of its evenly spaced branches, was perfect. It had, in fact, already overheard jealous whispers from the other trees. But is paid them no mind. Small Pine knew that if one did one’s very best, what anyone else said didn’t matter.

One cold night, when a bright full moon glittered on the crusty snow, a little gray rabbit came hopping as fast as he could into the grove of evergreens. The rabbit’s furry sides heaved in panic. From beyond the hill came the howling of wild dogs in the thrill of the hunt. The bunny, his eyes wide with fright, frantically searched for cover. But the dark, cold trees lifted their branches artfully from the snow and frowned. They did not like this interruption of their quiet evening when growing was at its best. Faster and faster the rabbit circled as the excited howling of the dogs sounded louder and louder. And then Small Pine’s heart shuddered. When the terrified rabbit ran near, Small Pine dipped its lower branches down, down, down to the snow. And in that instant before the wild dogs broke into the grove, the rabbit slipped under Small Pine’s evergreen screen. He huddled safely among the comforting branches while the dogs galloped by and disappeared into the forest. In the morning the rabbit went home to his burrow, and Small Pine tried to lift it’s lower branches back up to their proper height. It strained and struggled, long through the night. Oh well, Small Pine thought, no matter. Perhaps the woodsmen wouldn’t notice a few uneven branches near the ground in a tree so beautiful.

Several days later a terrible blizzard lashed the land. No one remembered ever having so much wind and snow. Villagers slammed their shutters tight while birds and animals huddled in their nests and dens. A brown mother wren had become lost in the storm. With feathers so wet she could barely fly, she went from one large evergreen to another looking for a shelter. But each tree she approached feared the wren would ruin its perfect shape and clenched its branches tight, like a fist. Finally, the exhausted wren fluttered toward Small Pine. Once more Small Pine’s heart opened and so did its branches. The mother wren nestled on a branch near the top, secure at last. But when the storm ended and the bird had flown away, Small Pine could not move its top branches back into their perfect shape. In them would be a gap evermore.

Days passed and winter deepened. The packed snow had frozen so hard that the deer in the forest could not reach the tender ground moss, which they ate to survive. Only the older, stronger deer could dig through the icy snow with their hooves. One little fawn had wandered away from his mother. Now he was starving. He inched into the pine grove and noticed the soft, tender evergreen tips. He tried to nibble on them, but every tree quickly withdrew it’s needles so the tiny deer teeth couldn’t chew them. Thin and week, he staggered against Small Pine. Pity filled the tree’s heart and it stretched out its soft needles for the starving fawn to eat. But alas, when the deer was strong enough to scamper away, Small Pine’s branches looked very ragged.

Small Pine wilted in sorrow. It could hear what the larger, still perfect trees were saying about how bad it looked. A tear of pine gum oozed from the tip of a branch. Small Pine knew it could never hope for the honor of being the Queen’s Christmas tree. Lost in despair, Small Pine did not see the good Queen come with the woodsmen into the forest. It was the first Saturday of Advent, and she had come to choose the finest tree herself because this was a special celebration year in the history of her kingdom.

As the royal sleigh, drawn by two white horses, slowly passed through the forest, her careful eye scanned the evergreens. Each one was hoping to be the royal choice. When the Queen saw Small Pine, a flush of anger filled her. How could such an ugly tree with so many drooping branches and gaps be allowed in the royal forest? She decided to have a woodsman cut it to throw away and nodded for the sleigh to drive on. But then she raised her hand for the sleigh to stop and glanced back at the forlorn little pine. She noticed the tracks of small animals under it’s uneven needles. She saw a wren’s feather caught in it’s branches. And, as she studied the gaping hole in its side and its ragged shape,
understanding filled her heart.

"This is the one," she said, and pointed to Small Pine.

The woodsmen gasped, but they did as the Queen directed. To the astonishment of all the evergreens in the forest, Small Pine was carried away to the great hall in the castle. There it was decorated with shimmering, silver stars and golden angels, which sparkled and flashed in the light of thousands of glowing candles.

On Christmas Day a huge Yule log blazed in the fireplace at the end of the great hall. While orange flames chuckled and crackled, the Queen’s family and all the villagers danced and sang together around Small Pine. And everyone who danced and sang around it said that Small Pine was the finest Christmas tree yet. For in looking at it’s dropping, nibbled branches, they saw the protecting arm of their father or the comforting lap of a mother. And some, like the wise Queen, saw the love of the Goddess expressed on earth.

So if you walk among evergreens today, you will find, along with rabbits, birds, and other happy living things, many trees like Small Pine. You will see a dropping limb, which gives cover, a gap offering a warm resting place, or branches ragged from feeding hungry animals. For, as have many of us, the trees have learned that living for the sake of others makes us most beautiful in the eyes of the Goddess.

Disclaimer: No one involved in this blog or its contents may be held responsible for any adverse reactions arising from following any of the instructions/recipes on this list. It is the reader’s personal responsibility to exercise all precautions and use his or her own discretion if following any instructions or advice from this blog.

Fair Use Notice: This page may contain copyrighted material the use of which has not been specifically authorized by the copyright owner. This website distributes this material without profit to those who have expressed a prior interest in receiving the included information for research and educational purposes. We believe this constitutes a fair use of any such copyrighted material as provided for in 17 U.S.C § 107.

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Monday Make A – Candles for Witches and Bride Bed for Witchlets

February 2, 2009 at 3:52 pm (Brid, Bride, Brighid, Candle, Crafts, Fun, Imbolc, Kids, Magic, pagan, Story, Witch, Witchlets)

* Hand-Dipped Candles *
from ShadoeRose

Imbolc is often called Candlemas and is a festival of returning light. In some traditions of Witchcraft, candles are made on this date that will be used for ritual during the rest of the year. If you are interested in making your own hand-dipped candles, here are instructions: You need to obtain the following supplies:

  • 2 – 4 pounds of Paraffin Wax (the kind used in canning) or beeswax (which is usually expensive).
  • Candle wick (available at most hobby and craft stores)
  • oils and herbs
  • candle dye or crayons (but make sure they are the non-asbestos ones)
  • wax paper
  • a wooden spoon
  • a double broiler.

Begin by melting the wax in a double broiler. If you don’t have one, you can use a large pot filled half full of water and a large coffee tin with the wax in it, sitting inside the pot. Heat the water to boiling first and cut up your wax so it will melt quickly. Once the water is boiling, turn the heat down and place the tin of wax inside of it. Keep the water hot enough to keep the wax melted but not so hot that the paraffin catches fire (which it has been known to do over high heat). While the wax to melting, stir with a wooden spoon (never use metal) & make sure it all is completely melted.
Also, while the wax is melting, mix the herbs (if more than one) in a small bowl. After the wax is completely melted and been checked, break the crayons up and put them into the wax. Keep stirring until all of the crayons have melted and the color is even and smooth, with no streaks. Keep in mind that the candle will be a shade or so lighter when dry. The more crayons – the deeper and richer the color, so experiment. Next, add the herbs to the wax. Stir with the wooden spoon until it is thoroughly mixed. Next, add 10 – 20 drops of essential oil to the wax until it smells strongly of the fragrance intended. Now your wax is ready. Start with a long piece of wick – twice the size of your desired candle length plus 3 inches (you will be making 2 candles at once). Bend the wick in the middle and hold it by the bend. Dip the wick into the wax and then lift back out. Getting started is the hardest because the wick will float on top of the wax until it has enough wax on it to weigh it down. Allow it to get completely cold between dippings when you first start. After your candle has started to take shape, you can speed up the process a little. I keep a pan of cool water nearby and dip the candles in the water after each dipping in the wax. While this speeds up the process a little, candle making is a slow process but very well worth the time you put into it. Keep dipping the candles and allowing them to cool & then dip again. When you have achieved the proper size, hang them to dry until the wax has set but the candles aren’t too hard. Then roll them on the wax paper to smooth out the shape. Once the candle shape is too your liking, dip 1  or 2 more times to make sure your candle is smooth. Trim off any excess wax to make a bottom with a sharp knife. Cut the wick and hang your candles to dry.
You are done!

For the Witchlets

* Bride’s Bed *
Copyright © 1997-99 Akasha, Herne and The Celtic Connection

Materials:

  • A Box
  • Colored Construction Paper
  • White, Yellow, Green, and Red Tissue Paper
  • White Flowers or Cotton Balls
  • Glue
  • Paint Brush
  • Crayons
  • Scissors
  • Glitter

This is a great little activity for the smaller children in the household, and they too can boast of helping with your altar decor. Paint one side of the box at a time with a bit of glue, not too thick, just enough to adhere green tissue paper. Cover the entire outside of the box with the green tissue paper. Cut a 2" wide strip of colored construction paper the length of the sheet (11"/14"). Let the child draw symbols and pictures that reminds them of Spring, the Goddess, brides, and weddings on the strip. Cut the white and yellow tissue paper into 2" diameter circles. While you are doing this, allow the child to draw pictures and symbols on the box with glue, and sprinkle with glitter. Place finger in the middle of a tissue square and draw up tissue around finger. Give a slight twist to crinkle paper into a flower shape. Remove finger and adhere to box and decorated construction paper strip with a dab of glue. Remember to leave about 1-1/2 inches on each end of strip. Attach these ends to the inside of the box with some glue. Let dry. Fill with white flowers or cotton balls. Tell story to children of how the Maiden is a Bride and that the Earth is her Bride’s Bed.

 

 

Disclaimer: No one involved in this blog or its contents may be held responsible for any adverse reactions arising from following any of the instructions / recipes on this list. It is the reader’s personal responsibility to exercise all precautions and use his or her own discretion if following any instructions or advice from this blog.

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Wednesday – Christmas Eve – Christmas History & Lore

December 24, 2008 at 4:24 pm (Ancestors, Children, Christmas, History, Holly, Lore, Magic, Oak, pagan, Reindeer, Santa Claus, Spell, Story, Wednesday, Witch, Witchlets, Yule)

* The Holly King and Other Lore *
From the earth Witchery Webpage; Source no longer available : (

The Holly King

From the Celtic tradition, we get a pair of ancient pagan images who fight for supremacy at Yule. The Holly King and the Oak King are probably constructs of the Druids to whom these two trees were highly sacred. The Oak King (king of the waxing year) kills the Holly King (king of the waning year) at Yule. The Oak King then reigns until Midsummer when the two battle again, this time with the Holly King as the victor. The Holly King, who has evolved into the present day Santa Claus, wears red, dons a sprig of holly in his hat, and drives a team of eight (total number of solar Sabbats) deer, an animal sacred to the Celtic Gods. Holly and mistletoe are traditional to the season through commemoration of the battle. The holly was hung in honor of the Holly King; the mistletoe (which grows high in the branches of oak trees) in honor of the Oak King. The Oak King and Holly King are mortal enemies at Midsummer and Yule, but they are two sides of a whole, and neither could exist without the other.

Santa Claus

Today’s Santa is a folk figure with multicultural roots. He embodies characteristics of Saturn (Roman agricultural god), Cronos (Greek god, also known as Father Time), the Holly King (Celtic god of the dying year), Father Ice/Grandfather Frost (Russian winter god), Odin/Wotan (Scandinavian/Teutonic All-Father who rides the sky on an eight-legged horse), Frey (Norse fertility god), the Tomte (a Norse Land Spirit known for giving gifts to children at this time of year), and Thor (Norse sky god who rides the sky in a chariot drawn by goats). Julbock or Julbukk, the Yule goat, from Sweden and Norway, had his beginnings as carrier for the god Thor. Now he carries the Yule elf when he makes his rounds to deliver presents and receive his offering of porridge.

When Early Christians co-opted the Yule holiday, they replaced the ancient Holly King with religious figures like St. Nicholas, who was said to live in Myra (Turkey) in about 300 A.D. Born an only child of a wealthy family, he was orphaned at an early age when both parents died of the plague. He grew up in a monastery and at the age of 17 became one of the youngest priests ever. Many stories are told of his generosity as he gave his wealth away in the form of gifts to those in need, especially children. Legends tell of him either dropping bags of gold down chimneys or throwing the bags through the windows where they landed in the stockings hung from the fireplace to dry. Some years later Nicholas became a bishop–hence the bishop’s hat or miter, long flowing gown, white beard and red cape.

When the Reformation took place, the new Protestants no longer desired St. Nicholas as their gift-giver as he was too closely tied to the Catholic Church. Therefore, each country or region developed their own gift-giver. In France he was known as Pare Noel. In England he was Father Christmas (always depicted with sprigs of holly, ivy, or mistletoe). Germany knew him as Weihnachtsmann (Christmas man). When the communists took over in Russia and outlawed Christianity, the Russians began to call him Grandfather Frost, who wore blue instead of the traditional red. To the Dutch, he was Sinterklaas (which eventually was mispronounced in America and became Santa Claus). La Befana, a kindly witch, rides a broomstick down the chimney to deliver toys into the stockings of Italian children. These Santas were arrayed in every color of the rainbow–sometimes even in black. But they all had long white beards and carried gifts for the children.All of these Santas, however, never stray far from his earliest beginnings as god of the waning year. As witches, we reclaim Santa’s Pagan heritage.

Reindeer

Santa’s reindeer most probably evolved from Herne, the Celtic Horned God. Eight reindeer pull Santa’s sleigh, representative of the eight solar Sabbats. In British lore, the stag is one of the five oldest and wisest animals in the world, embodying dignity, power and integrity. From their late Autumn dramatic rutting displays, stags represented strength, sexuality and fertility. As evidenced by multiple prehistoric excavations of stag antler ritual costumes, the wearing of stag antlers in folk dance recreated the sacred male shaman figure called Lord of the Wild Hunt, Cernunnos, or Herne the Hunter, among others–he who travels between worlds, escorting animal spirits to the afterlife and sparking wisdom and fertility in this world. Likewise, the stag’s branching antlers echo the growth of vegetation. In America, the stag represents male ideals: the ability to "walk one’s talk," and powerfully, peacefully blend stewardship and care of the tribe with sexual and spiritual integrity.

In Northern European myth, the Mother Goddess lives in a cave, gives birth to the sun child, and can shape shift into a white hind, or doe. Therefore, the white hind was magical, to be protected and never hunted. In myth, graceful running women of the forest–who were actually magical white hinds–brought instant old age or death to hunters who chased them. To the Celts, all deer were especially symbolic of nurturing, gentle and loving femaleness. White deer hide was used to make tribal women’s clothing. White deer called "faery cattle" were commonly believed to offer milk to fairies. In Britain amongst the Druids, some men experienced life-transforming epiphanies from spiritual visions or visitations by white hinds, balancing and healing their inner feminine energy. In Europe white hinds truly exist, and are many shades of warm white cream-colors, with pale lashes–otherworldly in their peaceful and modest behavior. To many Native American tribes, deer are models of the graceful and patient mother who exhibits unconditional love and healthy, integrated female energy.

Wreaths

The Wheel of the Year is often symbolized by the wreath. Its circle has no beginning and no end, illustrating that everything in its time comes back to its point of origin and travels onward, over and over again. Scandinavians began the tradition of hanging the wreath at Yule, the beginning of their new year, to commemorate new beginnings in the cycle of life. Today in rural Germany, a giant wreath, known as St. Catherine’s Wheel, is a holdover from another pagan custom which involved sympathetic magic to lure the sun’s warmth back to the earth. A giant four-spoked wheel with an effigy of a person bound to it, is lighted on fire and rolled down a hill. (The effigy probably hearkens back to a time when human sacrifices were made in plea to the sun.) In some traditions, Yule was a more important holiday for honoring the Sun God than Midsummer. In Winter, Mother Earth was cold and barren without the fertilizing power of Father Sun.

Mistletoe

Mistletoe was also known as the golden bough and was held sacred by both the Celtic Druids and the Norse. Mistletoe was used by the Druid priesthood in a very special ceremony held around this time…five days after the New Moon following winter solstice, to be precise. The Druid priests would cut mistletoe from a holy oak tree with a golden sickle. The branches had to be caught before they touched the ground.

Celts believed this parasitic plant held the soul of the host tree. The priest then divided the branches into many sprigs and distributed them to the people, who hung them over doorways as protection against thunder, lightning and other evils. The folklore, and the magical powers of this plant, blossomed over the centuries A sprig placed in a baby’s cradle would protect the child from faeries. Giving a sprig to the first cow calving after New Year would protect the entire herd. Now for the kissing part. Although many sources say that kissing under the mistletoe is a purely English custom, there’s another, more charming explanation for its origin that extends back into Norse mythology. It’s the story of a loving, if overprotective, mother.

The Norse god Balder was the best loved of all the gods. His mother was Frigga, goddess of love and beauty. She loved her son so much that she wanted to make sure no harm would come to him. So she went through the world, securing promises from everything that sprang from the four elements -fire, water, air, and earth – that they would not harm her beloved Balder. Leave it to Loki, a sly, trickster spirit, to find the loophole. The loophole was mistletoe. He made an arrow from its wood. To make the prank even nastier, he took the arrow to Hoder, Balder’s brother, who was blind. Guiding Holder’s hand, Loki directed the arrow at Balder’s heart, and he fell dead. Frigga’s tears became the mistletoe’s white berries. In the version of the story with a happy ending, Balder is restored to life, and Frigga is so grateful that she reverses the reputation of the offending plant -making it a symbol of love and promising to bestow a kiss upon anyone who passes under it. Balder is sometimes seen as the sacrificed and resurrected god, who is restored to his people after the Battle of Ragnarok.

Lights

Winter was a time of death and stagnation in the eyes of early humans.The earth was barren and unproductive, shelter was drafty, disease was common, and food was scarce. Little wonder they did all in their power to assure the Sun’s return each year. During the festivals of the waning year, fire became a form of sympathetic magick to entice the Sun back to the earth. Bonfires were lit; Flaming wheels rolled down hillsides; Burning candles were placed in windows. Candles were later placed in the boughs of evergreen trees, later evolving into lights on our holiday trees.

Honor the new solar year with light. Do a Solstice Eve ritual in which you meditate in darkness and then welcome the birth of the sun by lighting candles and singing chants and Pagan carols. If you have an indoor fireplace or an outdoor fire circle, burn an oak log as a Yule log and save a bit to start next year’s fire. Decorate the inside and/or outside of your home with electric colored lights. Because of the popularity of five pointed stars as holiday symbols, this is a good time to display a pentagram of blue or white lights.

Saint Nick, Old Nick & The Good God Thor
Talk by Rel Davis,
Minister of the Unitarian Fellowship of South Florida,
1812 Roosevelt Street, Hollywood, Florida 33020,
December 18, 1993
.

The festival of Christmas has always been a controversial one in Christianity. The Puritans banned Christmas altogether and during the Cromwellian period in England, anyone celebrating Christmas was jailed for heresy. Probably the most hated of all Puritan laws was the one abolishing Christmas and probably led to popular acceptance of royalty – at least the king allowed the masses to celebrate Yule!

In America, Christmas was generally outlawed until the end of the last century. In Boston, up to 1870, anyone missing work on Christmas Day would be fired. Factory owners customarily required employees to come to work at 5 a.m. on Christmas — to insure they wouldn’t have time to go to church that day. And any student who failed to go to school on December 25 would be expelled. Only the arrival of large numbers of Irish and northern European immigrants brought acceptance of Christmas in this country.

Even today, large segments of the fundamentalist movement oppose Christmas as a pagan holiday. In some homes, Santa Claus is called "Satan Claus" and St. Nick is considered to be identical with Old Nick. So who is this Santa Claus character who is really the main emblem of Christmas? The Church says that Santa Claus is nothing but Saint Nicholas, an austere bishop of Asia Minor who lived in the fourth century. There are two stories about Nicholas. One, the expurgated version taught by the modern church, and the other, the colorful one taught by early Christians. Let’s look at the modern version first.

Nicholas was born into a rich family in the city of Parara but his parents died while he was only a child. He was raised an orphan and became a priest. When he did so he gave all his possessions to the poor, and especially to orphans. He made a pilgrimage to the Holy Land and on the way a storm threatened to swamp his ship. He prayed and the storm was calmed. He is now patron saint of some sailors. When he returned he was elected bishop of Myra. Under Diocletian he was imprisoned but freed under the Emperor Constantine. That’s the story. According to the church, his feast day of December 5 was transferred to Christmas by the Dutch, who called him Sinter Klaus.

The older story is a lot juicier. In reality, of course, there is no historical record of a "Nicholas" ever having been born. The story went that he was born a saint, fasting even as an infant. They said he would only take his mother’s breast on Wednesdays and Fridays. According to the stories, he became a bishop because his predecessor predicted it in a dream, and he was the first person to enter the church the next day. He was said to bring back the dead from a magic cauldron. He could stop any storm at sea by ordering it to calm. He miraculously multiplied a shipment of grain so it could feed his entire diocese for two years, with enough left over for a new crop of grain. When he died, his bones exuded a huge quantity of holy oil capable of curing any known disease. One of his most famous acts of charity was the throwing of money through open windows to provide dowries for unmarried women. He really did not like spinsters and believed all women should accept the slavery of lawful marriage!

One group of Christians followed Nicholas’ teachings. They were a gnostic sect called the Nicolaites who believed that the only way to salvation was through frequent intercourse between the sexes. Though they were brutally suppressed by other Christians, they recognized Nicholas, and his cauldron of regeneration, as a pagan fertility god. In fact, Nicholas was nothing but the ancient Roman God Poseidon in new guise. Poseidon was the god of the sea, possessor of a magic cauldron and capable of calming the sea with his voice. The Teutonic equivalent was called Hold Nickar, king of the nixies. A nixy was a sea nymph, like a mermaid or water fairy. He was the Danish sea-god. The English called him Old Nick and when the Europeans brought their "St. Nicholas" to England, they instantly recognized him as their own. By the way, the symbol of St. Nicholas in the church is either a phallus in a yoni (the older symbol) or three golden balls (later the symbol of the Medici family and now of pawnbrokers). Both of these are ancient fertility symbols.

Today, we think of Old Nick as synonymous with the devil, the Christian anti-Christ. Old Nick is a bad guy. His alter ego, St. Nick, however, is a good guy. Let’s get back to Santa Claus, or Sinter Klaus, the real hero of Christmas. Christian scholars claim that the Dutch "Sinter Klaus" was really Saint Nicholas, and that "Sinter" is Dutch for "saint." Well, don’t you believe it. The best evidence is that the term was originally "Klaus of the cinders," that is, the man from the chimney. This explains the color of his clothing (red and white, the color of fire.) The Dutch really weren’t so stupid as to confuse December 5 (St. Nicholas’ day) with December 25 (Yule). Santa Claus never was St. Nicholas. So who was he?

Let me quote from a nineteenth century book on nordic mythology, H.A. Grueber’s Myths of Northern Lands, published in 1895. He wrote:

“Thor was the god of the peasants and the common people. He was represented as an elderly may, jovial and friendly, of heavy build, with a long white beard. His element was the fire, his color red. The rumble and roar of thunder were said to be caused by the rolling of his chariot, for he alone among the gods never rode on horseback but drove in a chariot drawn by two white goats (called Cracker and Gnasher). He was fighting the giants of ice and snow, and thus became the Yule-god. He was said to live in the "Northland" where he had his palace among icebergs. By our pagan forefathers he was considered as the cheerful and friendly god, never harming the humans but rather helping and protecting them. The fireplace in every home was especially sacred to him, and he was said to come down through the chimney into his element, the fire. Every Yule, the good god Thor would visit every home with an altar to him (i.e., every home with a fireplace!) and bring gifts to children, who would put out their sabots (wooden shoes) the night before. Good children would receive gifts of fruit, candy and pieces of coal to burn in the fireplace. “

He had another name to the ancients, Kris Kringle, Christ of the Wheel. This was his name as solar deity, reborn at the winter solstice, as the wheel (yule) of the sun turned slowly around. Again, the church pretends that Kris Kringle is the germanic expression, Kristkind (Christ-child). But if that is true, why has it always applied to Santa Claus, and not to the baby?

Yule was a time of feasting and celebrating the eventual end of the winter. The word Yul meant wheel and the day of Yul was the first day the sun visibly turned in its long drop toward the horizon, the day the sun-wheel turned. The month of December was also called Yule, but it was a different word, the word Geol or feast. December was a month of feasting to our ancestors. The aspects of Yule or Christmas are all of pagan origin. The mistletoe (banned by the early church, by the way) was an ancient symbol of rebirth, being associated with the menstrual blood of the mother. Traditionally, couples "kissing" or making love under the mistletoe would have a child of their own in the coming year. Later, the mistletoe was symbolic of engagement.

The holly was also sacred, maintaining its greenness on the sacred oak. It symbolized eternal life. The fir tree was the ancient grove of the Goddess brought into the house. We call it a Christmas tree, but the Germans use the old word, tannenbaum, literally "fir tree." Gift-giving, feasting, burning the yule-log, displaying circular wreaths (symbol of the sun’s wheel), and singing carols (literally, "dances"!) are all of pagan origin. Even the creche, the manger scene, is of traditional origin, for this was always the season for the birth of the child- god. The infant surrounded by adoring gods (wearing the halo or sun-symbol on their heads) predated Christianity by many thousands of years as well. Baal was honored by similar scenes in ancient Palestine. Osiris in Egypt. Even the Biblical story of the birth of Jesus was borrowed unashamedly from ancient tales. Clouds of singing angels, the virgin birth, even the obligatory flight of the small child and the death of other infants – all occurred in similar tales long before.

There is really very little in Christmas that would not have felt completely comfortable to our pagan ancestors. Just remember when you sing the carols that the "virgin mother" is nothing less than the primal queen of heaven: Mariamne, mother of god; Aphrodite-Mari, mother of the ocean foam; Stella Maris, Isis’ name as Star of the Sea; Maya, the oriental mother of the savior, and all the other forms of the ancient goddess.

Worried about the name of the holiday, Christmas? The Mass of Christ. That’s an ancient term as well. Christ merely meant "the anointed one" and originally referred to the oiling of the god’s phallus before intercourse. "Thou anointest my head with oil" had an altogether different meaning than today’s theologians like to admit! A Christ was anyone who had been treated with oil — usually a god. And the word "mass" is also pagan in origin. The Latin word is missa and was derived from the Persian word mizd, which was the communion cake used in Mithraic ritual. The mizd cake was said to contain the divine flesh and blood of the sacred bull-god sacrificed by Mithra. (Mithra, by the way, was born on December 25, of a virgin. His birth was witnessed by shepherds and magicians [magi]. Mithra raised the dead and healed the sick and cast out demons. He returned to heaven at the spring equinox and before doing so had a last supper with his 12 disciples [the 12 signs of the zodiac], eating mizd, a piece of bread marked with a cross [the symbol of the sun]. Any of that sound familiar?)

So Christmas is simply the "bread feast of the anointed god’s phallus." Pretty darned pagan, wouldn’t you say? The yuletide is a time of peace. Of joy. Of giving to others. It’s a beautiful old holiday that Christianity has never quite been able to stamp out.

* The Yule tree (lore, correspondences, decorating, and consecrating) *
From the Earth Witchery Website; Source no longer Available : (

Lore

The Celtic Druids venerated evergreen trees as manifestations of deity and as symbols of the universe. To the Celts, these trees were sacred because they did not die from year to year like deciduous trees. Therefore they represented the eternal aspect of the Goddess who also never dies. Their greenery was symbolic of the hope for the sun’s return. The Druids decorated the evergreen trees at Yule with all the images of the things they wished the waxing year to bring. Fruits for a successful harvest, love charms for happiness, nuts for fertility, and coins for wealth adorned the trees. These were forerunners to many of the images on today’s Christmas trees. Candles were the forerunners of today’s electric tree lights. In Scandinavia, Yule trees were brought inside to provide a warm and festive place for tree elementals who inhabited the woodland. This was also a good way to coax the native faery folk to participate in Solstice rituals. Some believed the Saxons were the first to place candles in the tree. Gradually sacred tree imagery was absorbed and minimalized by the Christian church–but it was never able to destroy trees’ resonance within our collective unconscious completely. We realize when we plant a tree we are encouraging the Earth to breathe. And when we decorate our evergreen trees at Yule, we are making a symbol of our dream world with the objects we hang upon it. Perhaps a chain or garland, reflecting the linking of all together on Earth. Lights–for the light of human consciousness, animal figures who serve as our totems, fruits and colors that nourish and give beauty to our world, gold and silver for prosperity, treats and nuts that blend sweet and bitter–just as in real life. The trees we decorate now with symbols of our perfect worlds actually animate what we esteem and what we hope for in the coming year; as from this night, the light returns, reborn.

 Decorating the Tree

It’s best to use a live tree, but if you can’t, you can perform an outdoor ritual thanking a tree, making sure to leave it a gift when you’re finished (either some herbs or food for the animals and birds). Start a seedling for a new tree to be planted at Beltane. If apartment rules or other conditions prevent you from using a live tree indoors, be sure to bring live evergreen garlands or wreaths into the house as decorations.

  • String popcorn and cranberries and hang them on the Yule tree or an outdoor tree for birds.
  • Decorate pine cones with glue and glitter as symbols of the faeries and place them in the Yule tree.
  • Glue the caps onto acorns and attach with a red string to hang on the Yule tree
  • Hang little bells on the Yule tree to call the spirits and faeries.
  • Hang robin and wren ornaments on the tree. The robin is the animal equivalent of the Oak King, the wren of the Holly King. Each Yule and Midsummer they play out the same battle as the two kings.
  • Hang 6-spoked snowflakes on the branches of the tree. The Witches Rune, or Hagalaz, has 6 spokes.
  • Hang sun, moon, star, Holly King, faery, or fruit decorations.
  • String electric lights on your tree to encourage the return of the Sun.

Consecrating the Tree

Consecrate the Yule tree by sprinkling it with salted water, passing the smoke of incense (bayberry, pine, spruce, pine, spice, cedar, or cinnamon) through the branches, and walking around the tree with a lighted candle saying:

"By fire and water, air and earth, I consecrate this tree of rebirth."

Christmas Tree Legends
(unknown source)

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Many legends exist about the origin of the Christmas tree. One is the story of Saint Boniface, an English monk who organized the Christian Church in France and Germany. One day, as he traveled about, he came upon a group of pagans gathered around a great oak tree about to sacrifice a child to the god Thor. To stop the sacrifice and save the child’s life. Boniface felled the tree with one mighty blow of his fist. In its place grew a small fir tree. The saint told the pagan worshipers that the tiny fir was the Tree of Life and stood the eternal life of Christ. Another legend holds that Martin Luther, a founder of the Protestant faith, was walking through the forest one Christmas Eve. As he walked he was awed by the beauty of millions of stars glimmering through the branches of the evergreen trees. So taken was he by this beautiful sight that he cut a small tree and took it home to his family. To recreate that same starlight beauty he saw in the wood, he placed candles on all its branches. Yet another legend tells of a poor woodsman who long ago met a lost and hungry child on Christmas Eve. Though very poor himself, the woodsman gave the child food and shelter for the night. The woodsman woke the next morning to find a beautiful glittering tree outside his door. The hungry child was really the Christ Child in disguise. He created the tree to reward the good man for his charity. Others feel the origin of the Christmas tree may be the "Paradise Play." In medieval times most people would not read and plays were used to teach the lessons of the bible all over Europe. The Paradise Play, which showed the creation of man and the fall of Adam and Eve from the Garden of Eden was performed every year on December 24th. The play was performed in winter creating a slight problem. An apple tree was needed but apple trees do not bare fruit in winter so a substitution was made. Evergreens were hung with apples and used instead.

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Disclaimer: No one involved in this blog or its contents may be held responsible for any adverse reactions arising from following any of the instructions/recipes on this list. It is the reader’s personal responsibility to exercise all precautions and use his or her own discretion if following any instructions or advice from this blog.

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The Mouse Story

December 7, 2008 at 7:27 pm (Life, Story)

Yes, I know, It’s been FOREVER since I posted, and I rather feel I am cheating somewhat by posting this, but it touched me, so I wanted to share. Apparently, my LiveWriter has disappeared during the whole computer/internet debacle I have experienced recently, so this won’t be as pretty as usual, sorry 😦 Hopefully I’ll get everything resolved and back up & running correctly soon…

The Mouse Story (with a Moral)

A mouse looked through the crack in the wall to see the farmer and his wife open a package. What food might this contain ?’ The mouse wondered – – -he was devastated to discover it was a mousetrap.
Retreating to the farmyard, the mouse proclaimed the warning :
‘There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!’
The chicken clucked and scratched, raised her head and said,
‘Mr.Mouse, I can tell this is a grave concern to you, but it is of no consequence to me. I cannot be bothered by it.’
The mouse turned to the pig and told him, ‘There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!’
The pig sympathized, but said, ‘I am so very sorry, Mr.Mouse, but there is nothing I can do about it but pray. Be assured you are in my prayers.’
The mouse turned to the cow and said ‘There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!’
The cow said, ‘Wow, Mr. Mouse, I’m sorry for you, but it’s no skin off my nose.’
So, the mouse returned to the house, head down and dejected, to face the farmer’s mousetrap . . . alone.
That very night a sound was heard throughout the house — like the sound of a mousetrap catching its prey. The farmer’s wife rushed to see what was caught. In the darkness, she did not see it was a venomous snake whose tail the trap had caught. The snake bit the farmer’s wife.
The farmer rushed her to the hospital, and she returned home with a fever.
Everyone knows you treat a fever with fresh chicken soup, so the farmer took his hatchet to the farmyard for the soup’s main ingredient.
But his wife’s sickness continued, so friends and neighbors came to sit with her around the clock. To feed them, the farmer butchered the pig.
The farmer’s wife did not get well; she died.
So many people came for her funeral, the farmer had the cow slaughtered to provide enough meat for all of them.
The mouse looked upon it all from his crack in the wall with great sadness.
So, the next time you hear someone is facing a problem and think it doesn’t concern you, remember —- when one of us is threatened, we are all at risk.
We are all involved in this journey called life.
We must keep an eye out for one another and make an extra effort to encourage one another.
What affects one, eventually affects all…

Disclaimer: No one involved in this list or its contents may be held responsible for any adverse reactions arising from following any of the instructions/recipes on this list. It is the reader’s personal responsibility to exercise all precautions and use his or her own discretion if following any instructions or advice from this list.

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