The Cleaning Of The Cauldron
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Article ID: 11811
Age Group: Adult
Days Up: 4,443
Times Read: 2,794
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Author: Lady Dianne
Posted: June 24th. 2007
Times Viewed: 2,794
This past weekend, I unburied my cauldron. Now, for the life of me, I certainly don’t remember burying her. It was under clothes that no longer fit or needed to be ironed, boxes of what-nots and books that haven’t been read, partially read and just general “stuff”.
The clutter had overtaken my sanctuary.
I began the ordeal by intending to clear my bedroom of clutter by cleaning our THE drawer. That one drawer that resides in the dresser that catches all the “stuff” that you don’t want to throw away, have a purpose for, a quick sweep to clear off the dresser or “I’ll deal with later”.
It contained rocks, scripts, cloth pieces, tree bark, salt, spent candles, quick clasp necklace pieces ordered but never opened and oils, candle dishes and dried flowers of unknown origin.
Under all this “stuff” laid my long lost ritual bag.
My Crane bag peeked out from under used ritual scripts, complete with patch that I received last year (never sewn on) and my ULC Ministerial patch, again, never sewn on and my dragon pin (sans pin) that I purchased two Pantheacons’ ago intending to paint her and place her on my ritual garb.
More reminders of good intentions never fulfilled.
I was feeling a bit lost, wondering where all those intentions hid. Why had I laid aside that which for the past few years has been my burning and creative outlet? Why did I feel so empty and lost, yet knowing wherein my focus brought me through in all those seemingly dark forays? Why was she buried like an inanimate object that had previously held hope, my deepest desires and had brought all of us together for many a celebration of life?
There she sat, waiting her turn for my attention.
As I unlocked the top and gingerly removed the weighted cover. I discovered not bright joy as I had in the past, but dirty, dingy discolored salt that had crusted itself to her like a plague. The smell was enough to send me out of the room. Inside her laid dark, dank and putrid notions of guilt, anger, pain, frustrations, unclear wants (not needs) expressed as demands of the universe.
She, like me needed a good cleaning!
I set her inside the kitchen sink, gently warmed the water before soaking out the salt and added essential oil-based soap to gently dislodge all the crud. While she soaked in her warm bath, I did the same.
I drew a warm bath, added my newly uncovered bath salts, which had been held captive in the bottom of that “drawer”, lit a few fragranced candles, not yet fully spent, and indulged myself in remembering from where we had come.
I remembered the first ritual in which she became the centerpiece of our coven meetings. I wanted the gastric bypass surgery as the answer (or so I dreamed) to my life long battle of the bulge.
Later, I asked for healing for my daughter and her abusive situation, I demanded justice for my grandson and help for his drug affected mother, I laughed with my sisters, cried more than a few times in circle within the protection of my sisters and brothers, mourned the death of loved ones, asked for recovery for addictions for others and relief from the pain of injury and disease.
I even dared to dream of owning my motorcycle. That which had been an elusive reoccurring dream since I was first told by an ex-husband 25 years ago, that I was too fat and would never be able to ride. Ha! I’ll show him! Putting aside all real concerns for safety, I’ll show him, them and all of those who have ever mistreated me.
What a dumb idea.
She didn’t think so. She often encouraged me to dare to dream. Reality set in through the pain of a dropped bike, yet it was always my decision.
For the greater good of whom? Who was I trying to kid? Yet another dumb idea I really hadn’t thought through.
Personal responsibility ~ I am responsible for my own well being, happiness, grieving process, health, wealth and walk the path that’s best for me.
All these years, all these hopes and dreams we worked through together, and I had cast her aside like a worthless object. Was I really serious about my faith in the Goddess or was I simply feeling lost and abandoned by all who meant so much to me? What was dredging up all these consequences that we had faced together?
You see, as a Coven, we move about like a community, flexing and flushing those who come in and out of our lives. Some move away, some fall away, some are disruptive and some hide deep secrets inside, afraid to let out the demons that torture them in secret.
“In perfect love and perfect trust”. Where had all that passion, pain and promise disappeared off to? Was I a phony in ritual garb? Willing to set aside the family and settle for monotony?
I found only disappointment in my self. My coven family hadn’t let me down. They were simply living their life, reeling from their own path of sharp rocks and blessed moments that we often share between us. Moments most precious to know someone else has walked that same path, felt the same pain and joys, discovered an interesting anomaly that proved the Goddess is always walking with us.
When the water drew cold and I knew it was time to return to my real life. I dried off, thanking the Goddess for this time of enlightenment. I knew I had to deal head on with the gunk that we had so carefully burned in thoughtlessness.
During her soak, she too had lifted up and removed gunk from her insides as well. I took my wooden spoon and swirled to the left to cleanse and remove. I then stirred the pot to the right for renewal and protection.
I dumped her foul smelling liquid and replaced her with clean, fresh water. I scrubbed first to the left, then to the right. I drained and refilled until I felt she has lost all traces of the remnants of old spells, negativity and sorrow.
I felt she needed pampering after her ordeal so I rubbed almond oil infused with my garden herbs, carefully into her now exposed metal. I asked what else I could do to thank her for her service and she replied she would love to sit in the moonlight, in the fresh grass, and enjoy an evening of solitude. Such is my wish, my lady.
Location: Eagle Point, Oregon
Author's Profile: To learn more about Lady Dianne - Click HERE
Bio: TVLady Dianne has been a Wiccan with a Druid flavor for much of her life. She practices Dragon Tradition with a group of very close friends and has recently been granted "Clergy" amongst her many other accomplishments.
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