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13 Keys: The Crown of Kether
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GOD AND ME (A Pagan's Personal Reply to the New Atheists)
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Witchcraft vs. Religion
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Finding the God (From Christian to Pagan -Part II)
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Breaking the Law of Return
NOTE: For a complete list of articles related to this chapter... Visit the Main Index FOR this section.
August Magick: The Fairy Moon
Article ID: 15143
Age Group: Adult
Days Up: 1,023
Times Read: 3,749
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Author: Lady Abigail [a WitchVox Sponsor]
Posted: August 5th. 2012
Times Viewed: 3,749
Even as a child I was drawn to the night. I loved that time when the world seemed to disappear into a mystic reality hidden from most. I lay there in my bed curled within the many handmade blankets and quilts my Great Grandmother and the Aunts had made over the years. It was late and I should have been sleeping, but the brightness of the full moon seemed to be calling me, tickling my spirit with energy. The night was soft, you know, not too cool or too hot, but like warm water flowing all around you. Unusual for mid-August. The glow of the moonlight seemed to be calling to me like some distant song, somehow familiar to my heart. Slowly, I sat up in my bed and began to look around at everything that seemed to be set aglow by the moon, like a silvery day at noon.
Slowly, I got up and tiptoed from my bed, walking quietly to the open window. A warm breeze softly blew the lace curtains back and forth and I could smell the sweet aromas of jasmine and lavender from outside. I could hear the night calls of the great gray owl that hunted behind my Great Grandmother's barn. There were no lights of any kind around the house, since we lived away from the city. Nevertheless, as I looked out I could see the barn, gardens and the trees beyond the yard, all which seemed to be glowing in the moon’s light.
I felt as if there was something calling me, something tugging my heart and pulling my spirit. Before I knew it, I was carefully closing the kitchen door, making sure not to make a sound. There I was, standing outside in my nightgown and barefooted on the back porch gazing into the glowing night. It was a wonderful feeling; a feeling of energy and night mixed into a single moment.
I wasn’t afraid. I had never been afraid of night or darkness. I had been taught it was only a part of the light. That time when we walked with the Goddess and could look upon Her face in Her mirror, the moon. But it was not dark; it was as bright as day and the energy seemed to be moving around me in sparks of multicolored light beckoning me into the moon's light.
First, I tried to talk myself into going back into the house and getting back in bed. I was sure that my Great Grandmother would not be happy I was up, nonetheless outside in the middle of the night. Little girls have bed times, unless there was some special reason. This had to be a special reason and if I got caught, that was how I was going to explain it.
Then, there it was again; that feeling, that pulling of energy and those sparkling lights all around me. I just couldn’t go back into the house, not yet. I had to see what was out here at night that made it all feel so different than the day.
Before I realized it, I was walking through the yard toward my Great Grandmother's herb garden. My Great Grandmother had the most beautiful herb garden in the state. But tonight it looked as if the garden was filled with luminous blooms of light. The blooms and petals on each plant were glowing with colors of silver, blue and white. I opened the garden gate and walked down the small stone path, touching and smelling each flower. As I came to the roses, there was one I knew must have a light within it. It was shimmering in a silvery light and seemed to be glowing even when I picked it from the bush.
Just as I picked the delicate rose, a wisp of color like wings went past my face into the field. It was bigger than the fireflies I would catch in the evenings while my Great Grandmother sat on the porch swing relaxing with her tea from a long day. My puzzlement soon passed as another wisp passed me and then another. I had to chase them and see what they might be. Out of the garden I ran, banging the gate behind me, down the pathway past the barn and into the green field of hay. It was then I again realized it was the middle of the night and I was running around outside all alone.
Still the energy of the night kept calling me on. The moon was so full She gave the impression of being close enough to me that I might be able to touch Her if only I was to reach up and try. The night sounds of the crickets and the whippoorwills were growing and blending with each other. In the distance, I could hear the bullfrogs and toads croaking from the pond. Together they all seem to be singing some kind of rhythmic tune.
Then I noticed all around me the circling energy of the night. Across the field there were sparks of light and color as far as my eyes could see. The warm air of the summer night was intoxicating with its never-ending bouquet of perfumes. The night entered my consciousness like a magickal drumming calls to the fire. I found myself dancing and singing songs that came from my heart; giving joy unto the beauty of this mystical night, a hidden moment in time.
Laughing and running, I tried to catch the lights of color that illuminated my spirit like smoke after the sparks of a spring bonfire. The shadows from the moon’s glorious glow were now growing long across the ground. I could see She was touching the edge of the barn, telling me that night would soon again become day. But I didn’t want it to end. There was something wonderful about this night, something I had never truly felt before, and it stirred my very soul.
Reluctantly, with the reality that I had to make my way into the house and find my way back to my bed, I walked with my eyes gazing unto the moon. That’s when I knew, I had been playing with what my Great Grandmother called the earthen creatures, those we call fairies or fae. They were not frightened of me, or I of them. We were just playing like children, dancing between the worlds. It was that element of magick that we rarely get to see or be a part of.
As I walked back down the path toward the house, I looked up and sitting on the back porch swing was my Great Grandmother. I didn’t know how long she had been there but she didn’t get angry or even fuss at me. She just took my hand and smiled at me as if she understood everything... every spark of light, every moment of magick and dream of that night. Soon, I was back in my bed and sleeping to the dream of night, none that will ever be as real or magickal as those I shared with the colors of light in a glowing August full moon night.
Are faeries real? This seems to be a debatable question to those who are no longer able to believe or see outside their pre-constructed world. Somehow today, because of the loss of our natural instincts, those we are born with as children, our eyes have become veiled to all the wonders around us. Faeries are but a part. The knowledge of the mystical magick found within all things is slowly being destroyed, even within those who work within the cloak of magick. We cannot allow those that will not see outside their disheartened black and white worlds to take away the magick. So what happened; what blinded us to the magick all around us? Perhaps it is fear of what we do not recognize. But, I believe it is arrogance; that what we do not appreciate or understand must not then exist. If it does not exist to us, it must not be real.
So, are faeries real? Yes, they are. As children, we see them all around us; without fear, we chase their sparkling lights within the tall grasses of time and the dew-fresh flowers. We don’t ask them if they are real for we know and understand that what we see is magick.
As children, we had no fear of the unknown because our wisdom was endless. We had not yet been trained NOT to believe. Amazingly, one day it happens; we are told it is time to grow up, conform, and see only what others see. And if you see anything outside the so-called norm, for your own sake, don’t tell anyone and stop seeing it. What a shameful thing to do to such open spirits. The fact is, we don’t all walk to a different drummer nor do we like it when others do. Most people try desperately their entire life to walk in step with that sadly lost drummer.
Faeries have as many names, titles and descriptions as there are souls within the universe. They are as changing as the years of time throughout history, as well as tradition. Faeries, goblins, brownies, gnomes, elves, nixies, trolls, dwarfs, pixies, angels, kobolds, banshees, sylphs, sprites, undines, elves, earth creatures and elementals are only a few of a whole host of other folk names. A belief in Faeries is a universal attribute seen in our early folk cultures. In ancient Greek literature, the sirens in Homer's Odyssey are faeries, and a number of the heroes in his Iliad have faery lovers in the form of nymphs. The Gandharvas (celestial singers and musicians) who figure in Sanskrit poetry were faeries, as were the Hathors, or female Genii, of ancient Egypt who appeared at the birth of a child and predicted the child's future.
The fact is that faeries are real and continue to exist. We have conformational history on faeries in stories, folklore and chronicles for as long as time has been time. Because some of faery history comes from records called “faery tales, ” they are not considered to be factual creatures. It is true that some stories may have been embellished through the retelling, but some people believe in beings called angels (aka Faeries) because they are spoken of in a book of stories called the Bible.
Who can see Faeries? Anyone honestly, it is like all things within truth and the mystical worlds. All things are possible, if only you believe.
You may have seen a few faeries fluttering around your home today or while you were out having a nice walk, without even knowing it. For they adorn themselves that we should be unaware of their presence and have little worry of our kind. They adorn themselves within petals of bright flowers and leaves blowing on the trees. Sometimes they are seen as ladybugs, caterpillars, lightening bugs, fireflies, ravens, crow, mockingbirds, moths, butterflies and dragonflies, only to name a very few. All are considered to be magickal by differing customs and people.
There are occasions when the faery allow themselves to be seen, but this is normally only for a split second from the corner of your eye. Perhaps you’ve seen a flash of light, a misplaced glow of color or even a tiny human-shaped creature. Then, when you pause to look closer, they have vanished, disappeared into their natural surroundings, possibly laughing to themselves at our insignificant attempts to see what we are not sure we see.
Faeries are not shy; at times they enjoy having their pictures taken and sharing in the fun. Faeries can appear as orbs in photos. At times, they are mistakenly seen as spirit energy from beyond. Yet, it has been shown that faery orbs seem to cast lavender to pinkish glow. Under closer investigation of the orbs, they give the impression to hold what appear to be tiny wings within them. Spirit orbs are more often hollow and sometimes transparent in their appearance. Both are wonderful sites to behold.
Faeries in folklore are considered to be very small supernatural creatures, usually seen in human form. It is believed that faeries live in a distinct realm but also share in living in everyday surroundings such as hills, trees, and streams. It is believed that Faeries may leave their mark in natural objects called fairy rings, fairy tables, and fairy seeds.
Faeries will approach a home that they can trust, but this is not a quick or easy thing. You are not setting a trap for a mouse and once you have lost the trust of the Fae, it is gone for a lifetime. But with diligent effort, faeries can grow to trust you, once they see that you are truthfully of the light and part within the mystical worlds.
If you are of nature and work to help the earth (their home) , that is a good place to start. Plant some flowers and herbs, put out bird and squirrel feeders, pick up trash that you see when walking, recycle the garbage from your home. You might also show them honor by leaving small gifts of food out at sunset, with breads, grains and sweets being among their favorites. Faeries love gifts of simple shiny and bright color. But don’t go out and start sprinkling glitter all around your house. It is not simple and it is not natural, nor does it biodegrade quickly.
Faeries are magickal beings that carry and work magick with the powers of Earth, Air, Fire and Water. They walk the course of life and death between the veils of spirit in both day and night. Like children, they love and play and like children, their spirit can be distorted. Let us call upon a quote from a faery tale of ancient times…“won’t you believe in Faeries?” (Peter Pan) .
Some history of and people who believe in Faeries:
The fourth kind of spirit [is] called the Faery.
And now about the caldron sing, Like elves and
faeries in a ring. --Shakespeare.
No goblin or swart faery of the mine Hath hurtful
power over true virginity. --Milton.
From Webster's Revised Unabridged Dictionary (1913) :
Fairy \Fair"y\, n.; pl. Fairies. [OE. fairie, faierie,
enchantment, fairy folk, fairy, OF. faerie enchantment, F.
f['e]er, fr. LL. Fata one of the Goddesses of fate. See
Fate, and cf. Fay a fairy.] [Written also fa["e]ry.]
1. Enchantment; illusion. [Obs.] --Chaucer.
2. The country of the fays; land of illusions. [Obs.]
3. An imaginary supernatural being or spirit, supposed to
assume a human form (usually diminutive) , either male or
female, and to meddle for good or evil in the affairs of
mankind; a fay. See Elf, and Demon.
5. An enchantress. [Obs.] --Shak.
Makes you think. Let the magick fill you always.
Copyright © 11242004
High Priestess, Ravensgrove Coven
Copyright: Lady Abigail
Copyright © 11242004
High Priestess, Ravensgrove Coven
Location: Greenfield, Indiana
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