Witchvox Article

Author: Crick [a WitchVox Sponsor]
Posted: July 27th. 2008
Times Viewed: 3,014

On a quiet spring morning, I find myself walking along a secluded beach lost in contemplation on the wiles of life. Witch born and witch bred, my senses begin to reel with the forces of energy that swirl all about.

I watch as deep green wavelets gently caress the wind swept dunes ahead. Adding to and taking away from the furrows of sand. And the thought that all of life is connected, each action bringing a reaction like a stirring symphony creating an image within the minds eye.

Out within the depths of the river, walks Manann Mac Lir, bearer of magickal gifts. A noble and ancient lord of the Tuatha De Danann, he is as one with his watery domain.

If one listens carefully you can hear his children singing the refrains of ages gone by.

Across the water, a flock of sea gulls are frolicking to and fro. Each scolding the other, in a manner much likes the pagan community. A community of lost children who are just now rediscovering that which has always been at their finger tips. Each one wanting to seize the tidbit of food floating along the surface of the water of which depths hold such ancient secrets.

With a wry smile my attention is drawn to the sky where Bile, most revered and patron God silently watches over humanity. He is a golden orb of light, casting his warm rays of hope across the lands and seas of this world. Joined in his fatherly vigilance by our sacred mother Danu, whose silvery rays of love, caress us in her glow, as we wander through the velvety night. Pagans through the centuries, acknowledging their balance of life and death by magickal rites performed in their honor. Mystics who seek to call out to deity, in many tongues and by many different names. Brothers and sisters all of who are in search of the Great mysteries.

As I wade into the cold, brisk waters, Undines stretch out their hands, guiding me along uncertain terrain. Much like one, who travels the turning and twisting paths of life.

From the surface of the water is mirrored the face of an old and weary witch. Thoughts of regrets and mistakes made over the years begin to cloud my mind. And just as quickly the Undines reach out and caress such thoughts away. For as pagans we realize that without mistakes there can be no answers and thus no need for regrets. Perfection comes from the experiences of lives lived making such mistakes and in turn learning the answers to avoid traveling the same road yet once again.

As I wander back upon the beach, I scoop up a handful of sand. At once the thought springs forth of how each grain of sand is unique in its own way. And by coming together, each individual grain forms a community of such uniqueness. Simplicity at its finest and yet complicated in its wholeness of creation.

Again the pagan community flows into my thoughts. And I wonder how such a community would be able to thrive if each of us were able to bring our individual uniqueness together in the manner of this secluded beach. Of how each of us would be a part of the whole in search of something greater then ourselves. For a beach that is whole is able to withstand the ravages of the distant storm unlike a single grain of sand. It is within such a foundation that a community is formed. Individual grains coming together for a common purpose. And yet each one retains their separate identities.

Back on the beach, a cool breeze goes passing by.

I laugh as the Sylphs dance with the merriment of life. Swirling all about as if they were lost in a fit of madness brought on by the silliness of it all. Suddenly an old witch finds himself kicking up grains of sand in an effort to emulate their bouts of joy. Oh what a sight that would have to be.

But then thoughts of pagans engaged in the throes of drama bring such a clumsy dance to a halt. And in the place of such merriment, bitter tears begin to flow. Oh why must we inflict such sadness and despair upon ourselves? With a pain felt deep within my heart I fall to my knees upon the silent beach. Unabated sobbing commences where happiness was evident just moments before.

Suddenly I feel the presence of sweet and beloved Brighid, such a calming influence. And from her voice came these wise words.
Polarity is the lesson of your life. Sweet nothings and harsh words all combine to form a semblance of reality. For the dark is naught without the light. Acceptance of both will lead one to a greater experience that extends far beyond this realm we know as life. And like the waves of the sea, they will come and go, at times gentle and at other times raging.

The key to such a journey is to find a balance between the two. One should learn not go too far one way or the other. The pagan community is currently engaged in a dreadful storm, but in time the sun will begin to shine and a new experience will emerge for all to experience.

The tears begin to dry and a pragmatic thought begins to take shape.

One cannot feel the benefits of healing until there is pain. The deeper one loves such a community the deeper the pain and yet there is the benefit of a deep and lasting healing. And so with these thoughts fresh in my mind I look towards the sky.

As I raise my hand in salutation and thanks for this day�s lesson, a smile creeps across my face. As I turn to leave the beach a sandpiper begins to chortle. And it is then that I realize that no matter how hopeless the day may seem there is always a ray of hope.

Though Taranis may cast about his thunder and bolts of lightening it most always is followed by a rainbow that leads to so many possibilities. And so the morning is gone and it is time to step back into the sea of humanity. Only this time I am well prepared to meet the challenges of this day.

ABOUT...

Crick

Location: Manheim, Pennsylvania

Website: http://whisperingwood.homestead.com

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