Hospital life is still eating up my time, so I missed the first week of B prompts. This week I’m writing about blood.
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Most Pagan groups are against using blood in ritual. I find that it can be useful in specific situations.
Menstrual blood has been useful to me in fertility rites, for example. It’s a symbol of life and death all at the same time. And one of my Matron Goddesses finds it to be an appropriate offering.
I’ve used blood to create a protective element for someone else before – someone I was sure needed my help, and who I trusted with that part of myself.
Mostly, though, I feel like there’s nothing we can’t use – if the Divine is immanent, it is in my blood and yours, just as sure as it is in the rocks and trees. Why wouldn’t we use this lovely symbol in our rituals?
This is the second week of the Pagan Blog Project. Our theme this week is the letter A again (each letter will be 2 weeks). I missed last week due to my daughter having surgery (which was thankfully successful).
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I wasn’t entirely sure what to write about last week, and this week is only moderately better. But since my son’s online nickname is Acorn, it seemed fitting, because there’s a really good reason I call him that – a magical one.
Acorn was only a pound and seven ounces at birth – the size of a 20 ounce soda bottle, and weighing less than a full one. If you turn him loose in a room full of kids now, three and a half years later, the big difference that strikes everyone is that he doesn’t talk. He’s physically strong, he’s cute, he’s happy, he’s got a wicked sense of humor, he’s sensitive, he’s loving, he’s determined….he is, for the most part, a normal preschooler, other than speech. There is every indication that we’ll work through this speech thing, and that he will grow up to be as normal as he can be growing up in a home with geeky parents – that he will grow into a mighty oak, in spite of his start as the tiniest of acorns.
Oak trees symbolize strength and longevity, and acorns symbolize the beginning of that, and that’s what we want for our Acorn.
Acorns symbolize patience – from a mature oak tree, acorns fall, and those that aren’t eaten eventually become tiny saplings, which then grow into oak trees.
Acorns symbolize fertility – and Acorn was conceived with the help of a fertility specialist.
Acorns symbolize luck, and our little guy was born on Friday the 13th – and coincidentally, here I am writing about his magical name on a Friday the 13th. Thirteen comes up a lot for him, and we’ve called it his lucky number since his very first week in the NICU.
Apparently, acorns are pretty tasty, but a lot of work – and our Acorn has been a lot of work too, but he’s worth it.
Rowan Pendragon over at http://onewitchsway.com is hosting an interesting blog project this year. Each Friday, participants will write a post related to Pagan, Witchcraft, or spirtual themes, based on prompts tied to letters of the alphabet.
I’m hoping to post every week; we shall see how chaotic life is this year.
I’ve been battling my inner critic lately when it comes to writing. Not that this is a new thing, but that right now it’s clear to me that this is an internal fight, not just a matter of available time and brain cells. (Side note: frankly, the more I read about inner critics, the more I think “available time and brain cells” is one of the critic’s tricks too – I frequently get more done when I’m busy.)
IC’s big lie lately is, “You’re nothing special, why would anyone want to read something you’ve written?” And my response, once I heard that statement clearly, was, “Right. Nothing special. I’m published – I’ve been paid for some of that work. I’m capable of taking on doctors for two small children with complex medical issues, along with all of their care. I’ve got an engineering degree, I’ve taught classes on numerous subjects, and I’ve made money via art. If that’s nothing special, I don’t know what you think it takes to be special.”
At any rate, I’ve been thinking the last few days that the first thing I ought to do to get IC under control is to write about him/her/it….and in researching, I started thinking that maybe even better is to do some serious magick around the whole concept.
One article [1] suggests that when the inner critic throws up a roadblock, we should ask it how to solve the problem instead then, which sounds a lot like working with a magickal entity. The article also suggests questioning the critic about who it is, where it came from, and what it wants. Interestingly, that sounds to me like the discernment ceremonial magick uses when calling spirits.
So….I’ve got this thoughtform, IC, and while it’s irritating, there might be ways to make it work for me. I don’t have to create it – clearly it’s already there.
[1] http://www.alistapart.com/articles/banishing-your-inner-critic/
I find myself thinking, after too many too-busy weeks, that I am grateful for my faith.
My connection to my primary Goddesses is a deep well of peace and acceptance when I have run out of them. The time I spent last year studying Zen philosophy complements that nicely – when I don’t have anything left, I can stop and just be.
Acceptance of the way life is (medically fragile children, fragile relationships with others, complicated decisions, and all) is not always easy, but going with the flow reduces the stress. I can curse the way things are, or I can get on with living with them.
Being truely present and mindful when I’m with my children results in happier kids who are better behaved.
