Articles/Essays From Pagans
July 9th. 2015 ...
The Magic of Weather
Love Spells: The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly
June 7th. 2015 ...
A Pagan Altar
The Consort: Silent Partner or Hidden in Plain Sight?
A Minority of a Minority of a Minority
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May 6th. 2015 ...
Sex, Lies, and Witches: Love in a Time of Wiccans and Atheists
Gods, Myth, and Ritual in Naturalistic Paganism
I Claim Cronehood
13 Keys: The Crown of Kether
March 29th. 2015 ...
A Thread in the Tapestry of Witchcraft
March 28th. 2015 ...
On Wiccan Magick, Theurgy, Thaumaturgy and Setting Expectations
March 1st. 2015 ...
Choosing to Write a Shadow Book
My Concept Of Grey
Historiolae: The Spell Within the Story
February 1st. 2015 ...
Seeker Advice From a Coven Leader
The Three Centers of Paganism
Magick is No Illusion
The Ancient Use of God/Goddess Surnames
The Gods of My Heart
January 1st. 2015 ...
The Six Most Valuable Lessons I've Learned on My Path as a Witch
Manipulation of the Concept of Witchcraft
Publicly Other: Witchcraft in the Suburbs
Pagans All Around Us
Broomstick to the Emerald City
October 20th. 2014 ...
Thoughts on Conjuring Spirits
A Microcosmic View of Ma'at
October 5th. 2014 ...
The History of the Sacred Circle
Abandoning Expectations and Remembering Your Roots
September 28th. 2014 ...
Seeking Pagan Lands for Pagan Burials
Creating a Healing Temple
September 20th. 2014 ...
GOD AND ME (A Pagan's Personal Reply to the New Atheists)
September 7th. 2014 ...
Deer Man- A Confounding Mystery
August 31st. 2014 ...
Coven vs. Solitary
A Strange Waking Dream
August 24th. 2014 ...
Thoughts on Cultural and Spiritual Appropriation
The Pagan Cleric
A Gathering of Sorcerers (A Strange Tale)
August 17th. 2014 ...
To Know, to Will, to Dare...
On Grief: Beacons of Light in the Shadows
August 10th. 2014 ...
As a Pagan, How Do I Represent My Path?
The Power of the Gorgon
August 3rd. 2014 ...
Are You a Natural Witch?
You Have to Believe We Are Magic...
July 27th. 2014 ...
Did I Just Draw Down the Moon?
Astrological Ages and the Great Astrological End-Time Cycle
The New Jersey Finishing School for Would-Be Glamour Girls and Boys
July 20th. 2014 ...
Being an Underage Wiccan
Greed, Power, Witches, and the Inquisition
Malleus Maleficarum - The Hammer of the Witches
Thoughts on Ghost Hunting
July 13th. 2014 ...
A World Of Witchcraft: Belief Is Only The Beginning...
From Christian to Pagan (Part III)
My Wiccan Ways...
July 6th. 2014 ...
Keys: Opening the Portals into Other Worlds
The Lore of the Door
Leaves of Love
June 29th. 2014 ...
What Does the Bible Say About Witches and Pagans?
Are You My Familiar ?
Everything's Alright, Yes: Mary Magdalene
Invocations of the God and Goddess
Results Magic and the Moral Compass
June 22nd. 2014 ...
Witchcraft vs. Religion
Christianity and Paganism: Why All Of the Fighting?
June 15th. 2014 ...
Becoming Your Own Wise One
Canine Familiars: Role of the Alpha
June 8th. 2014 ...
Moral Relativism and Wicca
Paganism in Cebu, Philippines
June 1st. 2014 ...
Rediscovering My Pagan Faith
13 Keys: The Wisdom of Chokmah
May 25th. 2014 ...
Some Differences Between Priestesses and Witches: Duties and Trials
How to Work With Your Muse
NOTE: For a complete list of articles related to this chapter... Visit the Main Index FOR this section.
Samhain to Yule --The Journey Inward
Article ID: 15269
Age Group: Adult
Days Up: 985
Times Read: 2,815
RSS Views: 9,842
Author: Maire Durkan [a WitchVox Sponsor]
Posted: November 18th. 2012
Times Viewed: 2,815
In my last post, “When the Crone Pays a Visit, You’d Better Pay Attention, ” I related my Samhain experience of a mandate from the Crone and a deceased family member to “wake-up” and start the new year with a difficult and necessary spiritual house cleaning. As anyone who has found himself or herself in my predicament knows, this is no easy task. Shadow work, which could also be defined as soul-searching, is really a quest to find, acknowledge, and/or root out doubt, guilt, baneful thoughts/intent, self-loathing, and old grief (just to name a few lurkers in my own dark places) .
Soul-searching N: A penetrating examination of one's motives, convictions, and attitudes.
A deep or critical examination of one's motives, actions, beliefs, etc.
Adj: displaying the characteristics of deep or painful self-analysis. -- (Collins English Dictionary; Complete and Unabridged © HarperCollins Publishers 1991, 1994, 1998, 2000, 2003)
Soul searching is fraught with danger and sacrifices, but also with self-knowledge and positive transformation. As in any quest, the goal is to grow from the chosen initiate and become a hero/heroine. We are, in a sense, on a quest to save ourselves from all that holds us back and keeps us form realizing our potential and doing the work we are called to do in this incarnation. It’s hard to make spiritual progress. It hurts to forgive and to ask forgiveness. It is hard to commit—to become the hero/heroine of your spiritual quest.
In Joseph Campbell’s The Hero with a Thousand Faces, the central character’s primary purpose is to separate from the ordinary world and sacrifice him/herself. To answer the challenge, complete the quest and restore balance. The balance I restore (see, I’m thinking positively here!) within myself will be reflected in my words and deeds and will (in a small way) resonate across many planes of existence. My personal shadow work will involve ritual, meditation, and journeying to speak to my totem spirits and guides. It will also involve reaching out and making changes in the way I interact with the physical world.
Quests also involve mentors, guardians, and guides. My mentor is the goddess as The Crone. From our first encounter, she has provided motivation, insights and training. The Crone is a tough coach. She tests me, and expects hard work and commitment. But she also believes that her guidance will have positive results.
Soul searching is a transformative process involving many steps. Much to my solar Leo’s chagrin, my Virgo ascendant insists on asserting itself here. Stripped down to bare process these steps are: initiation, selection, exploration, formulation, collection, and closure. Because linear time is irrelevant to beings from other planes—and a mandate from a goddess is a very big deal--I have a strong, feeling that this quest is likely to be cyclical in nature and go on for a very long time. As I continue on this journey, I will share my progress. But for now—what I share involves: initiation--my recognition that I have been selected to complete my quest; selection--my selection of an area I need to address; exploration of the sore spot in order to gain new personal knowledge; and formulation, when the seeker starts to evaluate gathered information and a focused perspective begins to form.
For me, walking in nature is a meditative process. I learn a great deal by being attentive to what I see and perceive physically and spiritually. I look for synchronicity (another Jungian term describing the alignment of universal forces with one's own life experience) . I take in what I can and, later, meditate upon "coinciding" events or alignment of forces in the universe to create an event or circumstance. Part of my quest involves becoming intuitively aware and acting in harmony with these forces.
The wrath of Hurricane Sandy and the cold fury of the nor'easter that followed have --ironically-- been followed by mild, spring like weather--much nicer weather than we will experience in March and April. But the silence of the woods, the barren limbs, and the shorn stubble, and the sun setting before five o'clock in the extreme southwest reminds me that the Brandywine Valley is locked in The Crone's embrace.
It is a Saturday in mid-November when I walk into our woods. The woods are so still! The breath of plants, birdsong, and the powerful energy of growth have stopped. On the surface, like a blanket of snow, the earth is still. A flock of black birds perches upon bare limbs--dark, silent silhouettes. Two women on horseback greet me and bemoan the overcast. I rather enjoy the muted sky and the silence. This is an excellent atmosphere for the shadow work, which The Crone has charged me to complete.
I clamber over the tree brought down by Sandy that keeps most people from taking this path; walk on past unharvested soybean fields where I stoop to pick up the blood-red and pumpkin orange berries of bittersweet. Attentive to the changes of this cycle, I ground and center before turning a sharp left and walking down the steep path into the heart of the woods. Into the now barren womb. This is the realm of The Crone. The wise woman who understands the reality of letting goes of stripping away. The leaves are all but gone. The forest floor is carpeted with their fading golden and ruddy glory.
As I walk the leaf-strewn path I speak softly of all that I lost--my mother, father sister, brother--of all the old wounds that cause me to wake and cry silently in the middle of the night. I say, “I acknowledge you. I loved you. But you are gone." or "You hurt me, " and (most difficult) "I am guilty of inflicting this wound." There is grief I must release or be forever chained to the past, hurt that I must acknowledge and release like leaves that flutter to the earth to be renewed in soil and new life.
I walk and touch old griefs. If I have done all that I can to heal a painful event—I must let it go. If there is something I can still do—some swallowing of pride—some contact that would help heal a wound—I must think about how I can accomplish that task. Are these hurts monsters to be defeated? Some are for sure. Some, like my estrangement from my only brother, are griefs that I must acknowledge and accept.
There is beauty and truth in the severity of this season, as there is beauty and truth in the severity of self-examination. Bare, smooth silver limbs of beach and the rough, scored limbs of huge tulip poplars are exposed. But there is harmony and stillness after the great storms of November passed.
Here is rest. Here is silence. Every curve, knot, and twig--seemingly dormant--yet here too is life! The silence is palpable as I leave the path and walk up the rise to the majestic tulip tree. This is my friend. Its deva calls to me. I place my offering of bittersweet on a cairn of stones that I have built up over the years as an offering to the nature spirits of this sacred land. I run my hands inches away from its surface and feel its heat --the energy it has stored deep within.
I run my hands downward toward its roots and feel the pulse and energy increase. Here is the hidden treasure--the heart and source of the tree's life. It beats deep beneath the earth and deep within the bole of the tree. I place my hands upon its rough, deeply scored bark, close my eyes and feel and visualize the pulse of life--steady and deep. I hail the presence of Tulip Tree and ask its blessing. As I open my eyes I feel the air pulse and shimmer. Rarely have I felt so at peace--so lightened. My offering has been acknowledged.
I walk up the hill, turning once to look back-- knowing that I have to move forward. I climb the rise leading out of the woods. As I reach the woods borders and look toward open meadow--I freeze. My eyes lock on the eyes of a solitary white tailed buck that stare at me as intently as I stare at him. Synchronicity.
Is the buck a new totem animal that I need to journey to for guidance? He is the Horned God--the God of joyful virility, radiating power and life force--even here in the Croning months. But he is also cautious, poised, recognizing and avoiding perceived danger. As he turns and bounds back into the woods, he reminds me that the life force is never far from us—but we must be poised and aware. I will take all of this in—meditate, journey, journal and continue my soul-searching shadow work.
Location: WILMINGTON, Delaware
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