The Tinker Urge to Travel

(Has it truly been ten years since I was here last..)

It’s getting on time for a pilgrimage. My wild pagan heart knows it. Time to be packing the car with tent and pop-ups and cooler, all the crazy clothes I can’t wear in day-to-day life, my accordion. Loads of scarves, tapestries, bells and incense. Crystals. Time to worry if that noise I’ve ignored all winter is going to give way somewhere on the Pennsylvania turnpike (it never has, but maybe this is the year). To leave the early spring chill of northeast Ohio behind and head south and east. Watching trees come into flower and leaf as I go.

Finally to arrive at the magic farmstead I may or may not ever see again, at the event that no longer happens there. To drive down that anonymous curving road, turning in the delta of a drive, past the market gardens and over the bridge, the creek cold and burbling as I cross. Up past the horse barn, past the porta potty grotto, past earlier arrivals already putting up their booths, ribbons of every spring color fluttering in the trees. Turning left when the drive dead-ends at the chicken barn, up that steep steep hill to the camping troll. Checking in, hugging any nearby familiar faces. Finding some open ground to set up camp before it’s dark. Home. Home. Home. Tears in my eyes knowing I can only return now in my head.

The pilgrimage of recent years has changed. Now it’s more south, less east, not so long a drive. No longer to a camping hill but a classic roadside motel, pine paneling and thrifted furnishings. Putting up my booth in a city park, dragging it all from the car to my spot via a battered old Radio Flyer wagon that still serves the job it was gifted for. No that’s ok, I can manage (I can no longer truly manage but I don’t like to admit it). Booth up, how to set the tables, cloths down, what am I displaying where this year. Greet more friends, the ones I have known for decades now but see only once a year. Take note of where others are, still busy with their own setups; to be caught up with later. Hang the tarp walls all around, shut tight for the night, and back to my room. Chinese takeaway for dinner, or maybe just something I can fix in the microwave.

Then two days of the best times in my life - children oohing over the ribbon wands and flower crowns, teens moping through to look at art they have no money to buy. Endless try-ons of floral wreaths, horn tying examples, now and then someone who buys a leaf-bedecked tshirt or hand-batiked capris. Everywhere music, laughter, bubbles. Midday the Order of the Greenman may march through, green clothing trimmed out with carefully pruned branches, dispensing fat acorn blessings. Horns and haloes, thorns and petals. Two sets a day from Frenchy and the Punk; I don’t often leave my booth but I’ll stand at the edge and dance. A bag of stitchery at my feet, cheese and triscuits for lunch, sketching notes and ideas For Next Year.

Too soon it’s all over and I’m packing it all away again, more wagon trips back to the car, so many wagon trips. Spend time I ‘should’ use for teardown standing around talking; a handful of us with punk roots reminiscing over bands, clubs, shows we’ve seen or wished we had, even as we now manifest in steampunkery, derbies and stripes, flounces and combat boots. Where you headed next. Some are on to the next event; I never quite levelled up to that tho it once was the aim. Might have done, but for all the things that stood in my way. No, my next event is weeks or months away and back in town; there may be another trip midsummer but not like this. Nothing like this.

I’m writing this out because this year I won’t have even that. Yes, it’s for Good Reason; I’ll be spending that weekend loading a truck, leaving behind the life and part of town I’ve known for - whoa. Nearly as long as I made that journey into Faerie. The two times did overlap some; the best of the festival years were ones where I departed from where I am now, not where I used to be. The far side of town. Moving to one even farther; an area I’ve spent time around but never lived in. It’s something I’ve wanted and worked for for literal years and I know down the line it will be Good For Me, but.

But it’s keeping me grounded when the side that wants to get away, to travel, to go be nomadic for a time is crying to Go. To wander through small towns where no one knows me, dine at some little diner I’ll likely never step foot in again (or maybe I will, maybe it will be worth remembering and stopping at next year). I want to follow half-understood directions I printed out a week ago and listen to audiobooks while I drive - I forget most of what I read each month but I can tell you many of the ones I’ve played while traveling. My soul *needs* me to do this. I’m promising it Later This Summer, but it will be so so hard to let spring come into bloom and not be driving past all those never-taken exits and through the tunnels that require you to put your lights on. Will it even still be spring? Of course the seasons will turn whether I go or not, and age imposes new rhythms on me. I do not feel ready to give up things I have loved so well, but it is the orthodox Lenten season and this is the sacrifice the universe requires me to make. Who knows, perhaps by Solstice we can celebrate right in our own backyard.

But next year, I swear I’ll be on the road again.

Loneliness of the Village Witch

All my adult life I've been preparing for what some folks call the 'coming Earth changes'. I'm not even sure exactly what that implies; I'm sure you could google it and get one sort of answer, maybe even one that's fairly close to what I mean - if only I actually knew what I meant. Let me try again.

I've always Known, on some intuitive level, that the way of the world was going to Shift, somehow, and that during my lifetime. At the same time, the side of me that is relatively rational and skeptical (yes, there is one) understands that *every* era thinks this; and I suppose for every era it has been true in a way.

Be that as it may, things are changing, sometimes dramatically so. As I write, I am reminded that it is the 27th anniversary of the Harmonic Convergence, an event that affected my own life enough I have a tattoo in memory of it. That, in turn, was said to herald a twenty-five year countdown to the end of the Mayan Long Count on December 21, 2012. Obviously the world neither ended nor transformed into a NewAge paradise on that date. And yet..

Since then, I have certainly felt a shifting in my own life. Thee Gates really are Opening; the Veil grows thin. Meanwhile, the forces of Gruad the Greyface have been throwing every single impediment they can find at this phenomenon, in vain hope of halting or even reversing its effects. I say vain, because I do truly believe that not only is a new world coming, but that it is inevitable. Likewise, I believe I have a role in bringing that change about.

Now, I don't want to claim I have a pivotal one; I don't think I do. At least no moreso than anyone else, though also no less. At best I might be some sort of regional co-ordinator, though probably more like a block watch captain. I try my best to carry that responsibility that is assigned to me (when, by whom, how I know? I can't say) which is one of the reasons I sometimes refer to myself as village witch.

I'll be the first to tell you, believing all this may just make me more than a little hoohoo-dilly. Maybe I have sampled the kool-aid a few times too often; maybe my damaged ego had to concoct some kind of fairytale to make up for my lifelong failure to fit in with mainstream society. I'm willing to accept either or both. Which is one reason I don't go around talking about such matters to anyone I can corner for more than thirty seconds - I fully expect I'm on one or two loco lists already, I don't need to channel my way to the top.

But every once in a while, I'll meet someone who I feel - sense - innately Know - will understand these things. Its not unusual to find people, especially those somewhat younger than me, with a basic grasp of these ideas. At the best, I'll find someone who has a similar understanding and perspective to mine. Rarest of all is the person with whom all of this is simply and immediately Known, understood, and needs no explanation whatsoever. I have two such people in my life - and at the moment, I'm estranged from both of them. Both, I think, for similar reasons.

In both cases, I've made the decision to step away, or at least step back. I've certainly done the opposite in the past, and put a lot of energy into pursuing each of them. Each, in turn, has shied away when I've come forward, and let things go dormant when I've stepped back. In each case, I can - and have -said, I'm apparently not worth the effort to them (not a reflection on my own self-worth; just that they don't see maintaining the connection as worth their time) so why should they be worth it to me. And still, I miss each of them more deeply than I can say.

With one of these two, the break between us has been deeper and more seemingly final; while the other isn't really a break, just - an extended absence. I would say the connection with the first is deeper, the deepest, in fact, I think I've experienced in this life. Its also an older, longer connection that I somehow know stretches across lifetimes - something we have acknowledged each to the other, and surely part of the reason the breach between us has been so painfully deep and appears impossible to mend.

With the other - the phrase, 'young old soul' comes to mind. Our connection is much the same sort but newer, not as deep nor soul-wrenching in its absence. Nor has the disconnect been as heavy and grief-laden; which is not to say no tears have been shed there. They have, but not as many and not as many times. Of course, with this connection we were 'merely' especially good friends. With the other.. ah now that I never could quite figure out. Never quite lovers but certainly far more than friends.

In each of these cases I wish a way could be found to mend what's broken. The friendship always seemed to afford more honesty between us and would seem to need far less repair, yet we are very far apart right now - socially for sure, emotionally to an extent, physically not so very much at all (yet enough).

With the other one, well, the gulf there is huge, incredibly deep if perhaps not wide. Big mistakes have been made on both sides, deep hurts inflicted, wrongs done. Enough that I have more than once attempted to shut the door between us, slam it, nail it closed and forget it was ever open. Enough that I have no real idea how much mental furniture has been piled against that doorway on the other side; enough that I can't begin to imagine what to do to make amends and clear it all away, as all previous efforts have only served to make the problem worse.

And yet - that door seems made from smoke or some equally ethereal stuff. Nails don't work, as there's nothing for them to pound down. And while the emotional chasm is huge, the physical and social gaps are relatively minor. Where I am not sure if I've seen my 'young' friend at all this year, this 'old' friend crosses my path every six weeks or so. And though the signals passing through that smoky door are often mixed, hazy, and hard to interpret, the one thing they aren't is clearly and unequivocally final.

Which leaves me here wondering, what, if anything, do I do about it? I never discussed playing the role of village witch with my old friend too much - somehow it almost seemed redundant; though I've always been uncomfortably aware that lack of discussion could lead to confusion, assuming something is understood when in fact it is not. Even without laying such groundwork, however, we could always 'talk shop' it seemed, and that is something I miss so deeply my breath catches in my throat just to write it.

Once, there was a time we could sit up at night, look at the stars, and talk about the world. Science, politics, things that mattered to both of us - which more often than not were the same things. Leaving that behind has been akin to cutting off my left hand, or agreeing to breathe only a reduced-oxygen atmosphere. It is as if they are the only other fluent speaker of Basque I ever met (editors note: I don't speak Basque) and now they won't talk to me. Lately, however, they seem to be dropping a word or two in that language, parsing an idiom, unusual sentence structure, when they know I'm within earshot. Because so much has happened (and I have been put to blame for most if not all of it), I am quick to question my own ears, shy about letting a similar turn of phrase past my lips, and careful not too often to be seen places where such conversation might be overheard.

But dear gods. It seems the burdens of life would be so much easier to bear if only I could be back at my old friend's side. In fact, it has often seemed to me that my 'local responsibility' is something we could and should share. And I like to think that I would offer both a similar respite from the world and a share of carrying a burden to them. On a deeper level, I Know that this is so; but here on the surface where egos collide things are seldom so clear.

Yes, we have admitted to missing each other, though its been some time since we were close enough to even speak that much. And I would think the door closed and myself the one unable to accept that but for the fact that signals still pass through. A lingering look here, an obscure yet pointed reference there. And as with any true friendship, in each case no matter how much time has passed, we can pick up as if we left off yesterday, the rhythms and patterns of two people who know each other like no other. If only we can manage to lay aside the knowledge of all the ways we should not have grown apart.

So for now, I will take down the nails and clear what I can from my side. In both cases, the door is open, but I can only invite. It will be to each of them to make the decision to step through.

Gothik Faerie Harvest Halfmoon

i have wondered what this summer was going to be like. As if i really had to ask? Of course it would be Interesting; what other option is there? What shade - and *intensity* - of Interesting has been the question.

There is a sense in which things have been almost anti-climactic. Which given the types of major events that have gone on - major shifts on the job front, a good friend with cancer, different living arrangements to name the big ones - might seem the last thing you'd expect me to say. But somehow, none of this has seemed like a Big Deal. When something first shifts, it might send me teetering for a day or two; but i'm a Weeble anymore. i wobble but i don't fall down.

Every so often, i feel like life gets shaken up. We get moved around the chessboard and reconfigured. When this happens, i think of it as jumping universes; maybe its not literally what's happening but its as good a description as any. These moves often seem to happen at points on the wheel - solstices and equinoxes - or moon phases; and most particularly when both happen at the same time.

Last weekend wasn't quite that. It was a half-moon, and Pagan Pride, and coming as it did on the secular calendar right before Labor Day, it felt like a sort of urban harvest festival. Midway between Lammas and the Equinox. Lammas was always the most difficult holiday for me to correlate to the mundane calendar; its energie seems largely transferred to Labor Day. This had a definite end-of-summer pageant Feel to it.

i spent most of several days - i miraculously had a four-day weekend - catching up on things around the house or just reading and relaxing. When not doing that, i was out mingling with my tribes - and when i speak of things Shifting, this is one of the things i mean. My first afternoon i went down to happy hour in the vortex; a place i used to call Home and haven't much been in a while. The past month though i've been finding myself there again, seeing people i've not really seen all summer.

Somewhere along the way - i can't say if it was actually that weekend, but within the past week - i had the notion that i should try to ride out the winter at my current dayjob (i've been looking for another) and then announce i'm going on sabbatical in the spring, take off and try the touring life for a few months. This is truly where my heart lies, but i always seem to have reasons Why Not, Not Just Yet. There are still obstacles without a doubt; but i am beginning to see ways around them.

i wound up at Pagan Pride three times over the weekend, which took some commitment as its not close by. Saturday night i almost didn't go but returned to see fellow cabaret performers Frenchy and the Punk (formerly the Gypsy Nomads). i've known them from around the circuit for a few years but sometimes only get to see them in May, at the Spoutwood Farm Fairie Festival so having a chance to watch their set without having to work at the same time was a treat.

More to the point, tho, they're also an inspiration. As they pointed out, they are DIY indie performers - no corporate sponsorship; this is what they DO. And that's what i want to do too. i spent a little time talking to each of them after their set about the idea and both were encouraging (yay).

On Sunday i got dressed; a bit more steampunk faerie than i might usually wear around town, and made the trip for the third time. i actually like long drives; they give me time to think about things - tho come to think of it, that's one of the things i like about statue work too. Alas my guided meditation was scheduled right across not only from a rock band, but my *friends* band, Morticia's Chair. However, just before i began, i reconnected with someone ELSE i'd not seen in a good long while; who informed me they have a place quite near me that would be open to hosting workshops - one of those things thats been on my Someday list.

Sunday evening i had a drink with a photographer friend, then went on to the band space where i was able to participate in Skype conversation with the lady who's been fighting cancer. This was particularly meaningful to me as i had dreamt about her just that morning. She's out in Sedona, taking part in the healing energies there after going through more traditional means here; and she said that today had been really good, really transformative, that she felt she could say her cancer was gone. Another shift; her illness has been an undercurrent all summer long, and is actually precipitating mending some other fences i've had to mend.

So the chess pieces shuffle. After a somehow low-key summer, in that nothing came crashing down around our ears, things seem to be re-aligning themselves for the next phase. Part of the meditation i led, or tried to, focussed on the idea of creating transformation in our lives. i'm not yet satisfied with the meditation itself; i know exactly what i want it to say and do, but something about it hasn't quite gelled, something in the imagery isn't properply fleshed out. Still, the people who took part seemed to find it inspirational; and i know a series of photographs were taken of the group in closed-eyes meditation.

After a week of cooler temperatures, we returned to hot summery weather the next few days; but fall is in the air for certain sure. i feel that we are at a juncture, perhaps the beginning of a phase, that will last at least until the big, or Not-big as the case may be, End of the World climactic shift at the winter solstice. If i am to manifest the changes i envision now, i will have to spend the cold months preparing to journey quite literally come spring.

i Know that a portal to that other life is going to open or perhaps is opening now.. if i dont step through at this juncture, the next shakeup could put me farther from it than i am now as easily as sweep me through. Last weekend i was telling people to go out and Create their own reality, to manifest a better world, one we all want to live in. Seems the time might be right for me to take my own advice and change some things as well.

New Moon Equinox

Its been a little hard to get myself oriented to the awakening of Spring as we know it here, as we seem to have fast-forwarded right past it into early summer this past week. Everything i looked at talked about leaving winter behind, and what winter we had has been gone for weeks already. But we are still at the turning point, when the days have grown long enough to equal the nights; soon the daylight hours will surpass the darkness. We don't have to anticipate the yearly rebirth of Nature, as its blossoming and bursting forth all around us. Not only that, but we have been dumped ass over teakettles into the sort of weather we're lucky to have at Beltane and often don't see til closer to Memorial Day.

This sudden swoop forward has left me bewildered and out of breath, as if i'd found myself, a bit unknowingly, going down one of those spiralling slides found at water parks and the like. Its been all swooshes and curves and such a ride that i hardly understood i had begun it and here i am plunk! into the pool at the bottom. Sometime i think i can just be awfully dense.. For as many years as i've been trying to Pay Attention, i've known that the combination of Certain Holidays with Certain Moon Phases can - can? will - bring about some classic energetic peaks. And yet - did it once occur to me another one of those concordances was on its way? (no).

When i first became aware of this in the late 80s, i had a circle of friends who often found ourselves gathered together on nights when the moon was new. That original group splintered and scattered; others have risen and done the same, only to have old alignments return in their place. Now, i count myself a member of several heart family tribes, some of whom even overlap.

i say all this to try and provide the background framework for the events of this past week, Spring Equinox, new moon, and more. When i describe myself as dense - i don't want to know how far along life's path i'd progressed before it dawned on me that my birthday, St Patrick's Day, was only slightly before the first day of spring; and the celebration of it (tho usually held in raw cold, if not the last snow of the season) serves along with Easter as the public, secular observance of same.

This year, of course, we had so little snow as to not be worth considering. Instead, last Saturday was sunny, the first in a streak of record-breakingly warm temperatures - and i decided to try my hand busking the parade. This was the first time in my life i've gone out 'freelance' without the blessing of the larger event, which was both scary and exciting. The energie current i found down there was completely over the top. There was a Bacchanalian quality amongst the revelers who literally packed the downtown entertainment corridor, of course; but after this winter, everyone knew on some deep level the unseasonable warmth was - Not Right.

When i perform, i throw myself into the middle of a moving group as a static presence. Sometimes there are more families with children, sometimes more adults who've sampled a festive beverage or two. Maintaining my stillness in the center of such energetic swirls requires an almost monastic focus. This is the state of mind i took to the unseasonably beautiful streets last Saturday; this is where i began to mark the equinox season though i recognized it not at the time.

Two days later came the actual moment of equinox, when the days and nights balance and the wheel of seasons turned. Again, i did not know it just then, but the mother of a good friend passed on that evening. I had had the fortune to have known her in her last years, though they were not easy ones for her. That day, her son had seen her for the last time; that evening, he gathered with his bandmates. Just as they finished a last song - a song that ended perfect and clean - the phone rang with the news that she had gone on.

Another two days. Thursday night the weather was still beautiful. i spent the day with my younger daughter, doing a few errands then going to see a movie together at our classic restored neighborhood theater. We watched 'Hugo' in 3D; a story that ultimately told of things near to my heart (the creation of the earliest fantasy cinema). That night, i gathered with a group of friends who date back to my circle from the 80s, a regular weekly event. This was the first night this year we sat out front on the patio. As we sat, i realized that just then, that night, was the new moon just as it used to be; and we spoke of members of the earlier tribe. Some have moved, some left this plane, some are nearby yet distant internally, but i realized, ah! oh! it was one of Those nights, of course, of course.

Two days again, though this time the interim filled itself. Sitting right where i am now, listening to the quiet trilling of faerie music, pulling together the threads i needed to find, the elements that would honor Ostara. i rarely plan any sort of ritual or observance except in the vaguest of ways - i knew i would be leading a meditation and that i needed to write something for it; but beyond that i was a blank slate. A slate i've been hesitant to fill for reasons i've not tried to guess, which is neither here nor there. The point is, i found the right notes, the things i needed to weave together.

That done, i set out - still only afternoon! - to the open house for another good friend's project, literally just around the corner from my apartment. She and i are cut from similar cloth and have a history that goes back as far as any other tangle in this tale. From there, my elder daughter came to use the car for a bit, then invited me to visit her friend's urban loft - a space that had once housed several DIY music/arts collective spaces i had known in the early 90s.

Satuday then at last. Satuday was my friends' mother's memorial. Normally i would be at work, and having taken time off for the parade, i didn't want to lose any further hours, so i started the day early. The weather is finally beginning to shift back towards normal, but EVERY blooming thing is a riot of color and mist. i took the dog and walked past a dew-spangled urban meadow just after the sun rose, then went off to care for my charges at the pet store.

By the time i was finished and able to cross town, i arrived at the funeral home just in time to make final farewells at the coffin, then join the procession to the church. The services were rather emotional for me - although i count myself a pagan, having been raised literally in a church i am able to connect with any authentic communion with the Spirit. There are additional factors with this particular tribe that i won't go into here; but simply being where i was was deeply charged, as i was unsure of my welcome from one quarter in particular. Some of the service was in Croatian, so i had an hour to work through my own painfully mixed feelings in a setting where tears and prayers fit perfectly in.

i had not, again, looked ahead or considered whether i would join the familial tribe afterwards, but when the invitation came, there was no question but that i would accept. No question, yet as we moved from the church to the social hall i did question. i cried, i shook, i asked myself over and over - but still i went. Not my will but Thine, Lady. The ceremonies were Christian but opened a door to the Goddess as easily for me.

And in the end i accepted; what else could i do? The worst rift in that family wounds me deeply, to where it will never fully heal in this life. But it could as easily have torn open today, jagged and bloody, a twisting knife. Instead..
Instead we gathered again in the evening, this time in the band space, a literal sonic temple. The story of her passing on Tuesday, the energie specifically channeled into sending her peacefully across, was shared with all. There was wine and sacred smoke, and soon enough they wandered to their instruments - and i to mine. The lights have expanded since last i worked with them, more capabilities now than before. My place there has been vacant this winter; more rifts. i Know that the colours i weave over and around them are as much a part of their spell as guitar, voice, and drums, and i have deeply missed my seat behind the board.

This tribe, this space (the Center, we call it) has been a place of safety and support for me despite the challenges and it was Good and Right to be there again. i know much is yet to be resolved for me there, and as i said, may never fully be. i have looked longer and harder than most anyone believes for something Other than what i find thee ('let this cup pass' - ??) yet again and again i wash up on those shores, always with a feeling of Relief - Home at last.

This should be more than enough to turn the seasons fully but no - Sunday is the final day (i think!). Again for the first time, i have reserved a public space to hold the seasonal meditation i've been leading for a couple years now - the original group of which has a large overlap with the same familial tribe i spent today with. i shall work, come home, gather items for a central altar, including a bouquet of flowers drawn from the memorial spray that topped the coffin this morning. i shall go around the other corner to lead whoever shows up on a journey into Spring.

When at last we return, we shall be in a new parallel universe to the one we inhabit now. i Know the transition will take us upwards. i hope i don't get motionsick from the ride.

Majikal Solstice

Blessed Be, and Welcome. i don't get to visit this branch of my tree very often, but when i do, its always positive; so i'm happy to be back here now.

As i write, it is the evening of the Winter Solstice. Light is returning, even tho winter has yet to arrive (here on the North Coast anyway). i am listening to MotherTongue's 'This Winter's Night' and 'Close to the Edge' by Yes - the latter may seem unusual, but its been solstice music to me since highschool (ok, Yes provided the soundtrack to some transformative psychedelic voyaging in those days ;-) i've got some incense lit, a cup of vanilla-hazelnut coffee at hand, and the puppyboy curled at my feet.. and i want to tell you about my Longest Night.

i have been leading informal guided meditations for a group of friends for a while now - a couple years, actually. Last night was the third anniversary of this. i don't quite recall how we started, tho i do remember how very nervous i was that first time! We haven't managed every point on the wheel since, but i think we've met at least three or four times a year. Every time the group is a little different; this year's was the largest yet, and - for me, at least - the most special.

Yesterday was almost the longest *day* - i worked in the bird room in the morning, spending much of the day scrubbing walls and floors; then came home to shower and change, load my car, pick up my Elder Daughter and go off to participate in a Trunk Show sale down in Tremont. Which was a pleasant time, a sort of holiday party on its own. Had to take her home after - her MS makes her tire easily - then came back to my dear friends house where the gather was to be held.

Arrived to find a nice little party already in progress, with the largest group we've yet had - eep! It was a while yet before all arrived and settled in. i didn't at all think to check the time, but i suspect we were ready to circle around 11:30pm. Some people had been to these before and knew what to expect; others had no idea at all. But we managed to squeeze everyone in, just barely.

i wrote a piece where we all journeyed to a palace of ice with a magickal evergreen in the center. Along the way, there was a line about hearing bells.. just before we got to that, the sound of windchimes drifted in through an open window (its been unseasonably warm here, enough that with so many people we could have a little fresh air). And then, just as the sound of bells was to grow stronger, someone's cellphone went off with a bell-like tone - ! It made everyone laugh, and didn't seem to disturb the flow of the journey too much - but next time, i'll listen to my inner voice when it says i should remind people to set theirs to vibrate ;-D

Afterwards, we went out to the backyard where a small fire had been laid and watched over by a non-participating member. Some people left then, but after a time, one newer attendee mentioned a tradition she'd grown up with, of writing down wishes and committing them to the fire - something we've done in the past as well, so it fit perfectly. Another woman brought out red&green paper slips and silver pens from her house next door. We used the red papers to write things we'd like to be rid of in the coming year, and the green to write wishes for things coming in. Then we went around the circle, and each of us mentioned one or two things we were sending to the fire. As it happened, we were doing that right as the Solstice actually arrived; a beautiful accident.

A bit after that, the first woman shared a chant she knew, one i hadn't heard before, so that was a gift for me! i think the notion of chanting together might have been a little challenging to that group.. she and i sang it through twice together. If we'd had a drum, and one or two more voices, i think we might have had a little chant circle as well; but at least we got close.

Things broke up not long after that, tho the night still wasn't over for me - another friend got into town from L.A. so i went off to have a nightcap with him and a couple other friends before getting home in an exhausted tumble somewhere around 3am. All around, a truly majikal, wonderful, special Solstice night.

post-Starwood post (belated)

Dear internetz -

This summer i went to Starwood. To my great surprise, Starwood was there to meet me. Now this might not make a lot of sense if you don't know me, or don't know me well enough to, well, know. But Starwood and i have A History, you see.

And it is just possible that someone reading this might not even know Starwood, or might know it only by reputation. How to tell it.. Starwood used to describe itself as 'the largest festival of its kind'. That might even still be true. Most people would consider it a pagan festival, since many if not most of the folks who attend profess some variety of neo-paganism; but there are everything from Voudon adherents to Buddhists to SubGenii to, i'm quite sure, Pastafarians there. Not to mention Jews, agnostics, and even a sprinkling of Christians - very, very *liberal* Christians to be sure.

But Starwood is something much more than the sum of its parts. Or at least, it used to be.. the last few times i was there, it seemed to me to have devolved somehow, to be going through the traditional motions but to have forgotten what they meant. However, its equally possible that i myself had simply lost touch with the spirit of Starwood somewhere along the way. This year, however, i found it again. And now i can't wait to go back.

OK, full disclosure time: i was once a Starwood organizer. And since i'm fairly certain that no Chameleon eyes shall ever peruse this blog, i can say that its not out of the question that at some point i will be one again. Yes, it was *that* strong an experience - and i was only there for 24 hours! But i attended Starwood before i became involved with ACE (the group that puts it on) and i've attended several since letting my membership go dormant.

Once upon a time, Starwood was THE high point of my summer. In fact, it became such a major focal point that the entire *rest* of my summers were consumed by it; work on Starwood began before Beltane in May, and between the wrap-up and recovery/decompression period, lasted til Labor Day. That was more time than i was ultimately willing to give over; but once upon a time - it was almost worth it.

i used to think of Starwood as a room, or perhaps a station, on the wheel of the year. A particularly powerful station.. Ah, here we are again at Starwood, i would think; and look around to see what was the same, what had changed since last we visited that room. Saying this does not adequately convey the sense i had then that Starwood was somehow eternal - even tho we would all strike camp and go home on Sunday (or, for the true die-hards, Monday), Starwood didn't 'stop'. It continued somehow to exist, waiting for us to make the circuit, trace out the path that would bring us once again to its camps, its fires.

Last night i watched a documentary called "Shortcut to Nirvana", on the Kumbh Mela festival in India. And though i know its ridiculously presumptuous of me to say so, i felt like i 'recognized' and 'understood' something about that ancient festival - because i have experienced the same thing at festivals i've attended here. Starwood chief among them.

i've heard of the Kumbh Mela before, and even seen footage; but this was the first time i've seen it presented on a wide scale and as entirely contemporary (the documentary was shot in 2001, during the Maha Kumbh Mela. This occurs only once every 144 years, and drew upwards of 70 *million* people - the largest gathering of humans anywhere on earth, ever). Each guru attending has their own camp setup; as each little tribe and group of friends does at Starwood. At night, much of the grounds are lit electronically; again, as at Starwood, tho the Indian fest was closer to a religious version of Vegas. There are entertainers, pilgrims of every stripe, even tourists who don't really know what its all about, but are there for The Spectacle - and some of them may find themselves touched on a much deeper level.

The analogy may be thin, but i remain convinced that a transformative event such as Starwood, or the Rainbow Gathering, or Burning Man, is the western equivalent. i've been to two of the three i mention; i've never been to Burning Man, but everyone i know who has, refers to it with the same sort of mystical awe, even tho it is not at all a 'religious' or even spiritual fest, nor are those people necessarily spiritual folk. i may or may not journey there someday, but then again, i wonder if i need to. i've got my own pilgramage site, and that is Starwood.

i know that i'm not doing a very good job of explaining just WHY i feel this way about this festival, nor why this year's in particular struck me that way. i can tell you that in the past, its been my experience that Starwood tends to bring things to a head, and this year might be no exception. There are things that happened this year that i choose not to share here, because they are of a personal nature; but more to the point, as with anything that partakes of the numinous, some things simply cannot be explained. The two examples i often use are sex and acid - you can read all you want on either subject, but nothing, nothing will ever convey the same meaning and emotion to you as experiencing it for yourself - and Starwood, for me anyway, is like that (tho not only for me; as i've shared this feeling with many other attendees).

My journey there this year was short, too short i think now. i went with the band i work with, and they were staying only for the night they played. As the last several Starwoods i attended seemed to me to lack the spirit that had once made them so meaningful to me, i didn't even consider trying to extend my stay. i think now that this was a mistake, as i believe thee majik ov Starwood might have exerted its influence on areas of my life that could really use it - but i am trying to trust that everything happens for a reason. Maybe next year.

One thing i can share here is the feeling that i have let my spirituality go far too dormant. i don't do any active practice.. maybe i never did, but there was a time (coincidentally, overlapping the years i actively attended Starwood) when i incorporated my beliefs a lot more deeply into my life. They still underlie much of my day-to-day action; more than most people would suspect. But they've gotten a little too far into the background. Perhaps my return to Starwood was must valuable as a reminder that these things are important and need some intentional recognition and inclusion into my life again.

..but the war goes on..

Wow. Ok. That was - a Depth Charge. i'd ask if anybody else felt it, but i already know others have and are, thanks to thee majik ov thee astral intarwebs. Which is not to say i don't want to hear about it if you did; comments of that sort are *most* welcome.

Actually, i think noting a small but really definite ripple amongst a certain strata of folks is what made me snap to and take notice: hey, people are being Affected, Pay Attention. Of course i was one of those affected, which put its own filters on things.

Driving home tonight, after a day when the things that hit, hit only as aftershocks, i started thinking about this wave of negative, really depressing energie that has been sweeping through people. Sort of idly going over Uranus going into Aries, Mercury going retrograde and i don't even know where the moon is; let's see what else has been going on.

What else.

Yeah i know, i can be a real DUMBASS sometimes. Maybe i should have phrased it, What HASN'T been going on?! Tsunami and earthquake? Nuclear crises? Right-wing takeover of state governments? Freak snowstorms? i'm not even *trying* to keep track.

What i'm hearing is people feeling overwhelmed, people feeling down, maybe even way down. Too far down. And yeah, i don't just Hear it, i Feel it. It got me too, kicked my feet out from under me. Literally, as it turns out; the stepladder i've owned for 25 years collapsed under me and dumped me into a sadeladder pretzel. i've had Personal Shite that i haven't wanted to deal with that just won't go away by ignoring it, come due and demand i Recognize it. Wah wah poor widdle me. Meanwhile halfway across the globe people are DYING, and you don't think maybe the sudden ascension of how many thousands in Japan might release some crazy shock wave?

i could continue to detail effects of the blast. Its taken people out over here as well. Nowhere near the numbers, obviously; but the impact has been that intense on some folks. And i'm not saying that's *why* people have gone out. i don't even know 'why' for most of the cases; they're just gone. Almost as if our flanks were being attacked, take down the ones you can. Almost.

i Choose not to Believe that there is an organized conspiracy of black magic out there going after folks on 'our' side (and no, i don't think i can define that right at this point) - but i also see where one could just about make a case. Whether this notion is real-in-some-sense or not doesn't really matter. What matters is what we do about it. How we respond. What matters is that we not let it derail us.

i had a short but very interesting exchange with someone i'd call a - Peer? We don't really know each other well enough to be tight, but certainly better than mere acquaintance. Anyway, apparently some while back, we had had a disagreement on a discussion board over the usefulness of Hope. i was and am adamantly For it; he, at the time, was not but wanted me to know he had changed perspective on things. That may sound like something trivial, but its the node around which a pattern accumulates. And Oh my friends, That may be just the thread i am looking for.

A wave like the one that just passed through is difficult and intense; but the point is, it HAS passed. And we are Still Here. Battered? Oh hell yes, but you know what? We are STILL HERE. We Survived, and we can get just a little bit smarter from that (tho ok, a whole lot smarter would be preferable). We *need* to get smarter from that. And we can.

That's what Pattern Recognition is about. PAT-tern re-cog-NI-tion is a LARGE part of the GAME. When you begin to understand the pattern, you are, in effect, unraveling the source code. Maybe not of the Universe - seriously, dude, do you really *want* to jam your brain fulla that? - but perhaps of certain quantum local realities. Which in some cases might be global in scope. And the cool thing about the source code is, its actually open source. That means We Can All EDIT IT.

And you know what that means? If we don't like the places the world is headed, well, we have a say in that. We absolutely have, in our hands right now, the ability to Manifest a future we want to live in. People Have The Power. Patti Smith told us that thirty years ago. OK lots of people have been telling us in lots of ways for a long long time. Are we ready to listen yet?

Every time the polar bear excrement interferes with the machinery, we have to up the blast of positive, healing, loving energie we send back out. If we get hit with a wave like just came through, acknowledge it. Speak it. Share it as much as you can from wherever you are, with whoever you can. Use your own definition of who you can share with, but stretch it out a little. Look around. Is there somebody you know that seems like maybe they'd Get It? Send a few feelers by them, see how they react. Maybe they'll be grateful for the chance to share back; maybe they have something *you* need to hear.

And wherever you can, as soon as you can, bring the vibe back UP. Throw a potluck, break the dancefloor ice, wear colors and clothes that make you and others feel good, share energie. Do art, make music and food and love. Raise the energie. Blow bubbles. Sprinkle faerie dust. Wear bells. Radiate joy. Give hope. Take hope. Heal each other. Heal yours'elves.

And please please please - if you read this, if you like this, if you agree and especially if you Do Something About It too, let me know? Post a comment, click like, share the link. Let's get a feedback loop going, start a nodal point. We're beyond wondering if things are going to change; things are changing. Please help to make that change one that will benefit us all, every one of Mother's children, every being of consciousness around us. What i tell you three times, three times, three times..