Farewell, Irene!

Merry Meet Family and Friends!

Unless you live on another planet or in another country, you know that the United States east coast was hit by Hurricane Irene. It was a Category II hurricane that made land fall in North Carolina before making its way up the coast. By the time it hit us here in New Jersey, it was a Category I.

What one must realize is that we are not accustomed to our storms being large enough to be categorized. We get thunderstorms or an occasional tropical storm, which I personally find exhilarating, but nothing like this. The last hurricane I can remember was Hurricane Floyd in 1999, which seemed to pale by comparison.

I must confess, I was a little nervous, but felt certain we were well prepared. I had enough candles to light up the entire Village of Ridgewood on a good day, bottled water, flashlights, batteries, pet food, charged cell phones, ice filled coolers. I sat down with a nice glass of wine and waited for Lady Irene to make her entrance.

It began as gentle rain just before I went to bed and I considered the possibility that the media had probably hyped up the storm like they do every other “weather event”. I woke at about 1:30 a.m. to sound of driving rain and winds that were so strong I felt certain that our windows would implode.  And then we lost power. Now, I was no longer a little nervous…I was scared shitless! We all stayed awake until dawn.

As the sky began to lighten, making the situation feel a lot less ominous, my main concern was whether I’d be able to find the manual can opener so that we could feed the dogs and my French press, so that I wouldn’t die and/or become homicidal without my morning coffee. I manage to do both and neither with little effort.

I looked out the window, happy to see that there didn’t appear to be any more damage than one would find with your typical “bad” Jersey storm. There were a few tree branches in the yard, but nothing significant. The patio furniture and the potted plants on our deck were all relatively undisturbed. My rose bushes, that had been ferociously whipped around by the wind the night before, were perfectly secured to their trellises, and had beautiful buds just beginning to bloom. “Pfffttt, Hurricane Irene”, I thought to myself. I knew it was all “hype”.   Still, it was very windy and raining pretty hard, but I wasn’t worried. The worst seemed to be over and the meteorologists were reporting that by mid afternoon, the skies would clear and it would be a beautiful day!

I was peacefully sipping my coffee and thinking to myself that all we needed now was the power to go back on and Hurricane Irene would be a distant memory, when I glanced out our patio doors to see the backyard rapidly filling up with murky brown water! I screamed on the top of my lungs for my sleeping husband, as if he would be able to do something to stop it and watched as muddy water rose around our newly built shed and began swallowing most of our lawn! I was struck with an overwhelming sense of panic, but not for fear that our house would become flood ravaged.

You see, we have a fairly large, well established Koi pond in our yard. I’ve been caring for these fish for the past six or more years. These aren’t your common goldfish, but imported Japanese Koi, some of whom hatched in the pond and have grown to about a foot in length. And while I can’t say I feel the same way about them that I do my other pets, they are living beings and have brought both great joy and aggravation to my life….just like my kids!

That being said, over the years, I have had a recurrent nightmare of watching flood waters overtaking  the yard, flowing over the top of the Koi pond and seeing all the fish swim out into the muddy water, gasping for breath before dying on the grass. Oh.My.God! It’s awful!!!

I was in tears as I watched the water nearing my pond and realized that my nightmares were about to become a reality!

My mind was racing….there had to be something I could do, but what? I didn’t have anything large enough to hold all 22 fish and even if I did, how would I catch them all?!

Seeing how distraught I was, the kids did their best to comfort me, “get over it, Mom! They’re friggin’ fish!”

Still, I haven’t been practicing Witchcraft this long to back down from a challenge! And I certainly wasn’t going to stand by and just allow this to happen! There’s only “nothing” you can do, if you choose to do nothing!”

I ran out into the deluge and screamed on the top of my lungs, “Cut me a fucking break!!!”, which did absolutely nothing.

I ran back into the house and advised my husband that we needed to begin sandbagging the pond with the extra bags of mulch we had bought. He patiently explained that a few bags of mulch were not going to hold back that much water and that I needed to just “calm down”. Oh yeah, like that was really going to happen! I felt ill! And yes, I know they’re only fish…but they’re my fucking fish!!!

Then things got really weird…

I had recently downloaded a Ghost Hunting app on my IPod that comes with an EVP player. An EVP (Electronic Voice Phenomenon) device monitors voice transmissions from the other side. I had been listening to mine just before the flood hit and had forgotten to turn it off.  As I finally began to resign myself to the fact that my backyard was going to end up being the World’s largest Koi pond, I heard my EVP player say the word, “offering” and suddenly, I knew exactly what I needed to do!

I grabbed a bottle of Jamison Whiskey out of the liquor cabinet and ran down the steps to the backyard. The water was about 4 feet deep in most of the yard and had reached the bottom step of our deck, a mere foot or so from the pond. I poured three shots of Jamison into the muddy water.

I ran back in from the pouring rain, completely drenched and passed by my husband while holding a bottle of whiskey. My husband asked, “what the hell are you doing?” Without answering, I ran to the medicine cabinet and grabbed one of the lancets that my father in law had used to test his blood sugar and ran back outside. I’m certain my husband thought that surely I’d gone mad, but if he hasn’t figured that out after 25 years, whose fault is it?

I pierced my finger and watched as three tiny drops of my blood mingled with the rushing murky water.

Then, I held my breath and waited.

We did sustain some significant damage, although have been truly blessed in comparison to what others have lost. The flood waters stopped three inches from the pond and have since receded. The fishies are just fine!

In Darkness, Light!



Tracy

                                        




My fishes are in there!!!!

Sanity...check!

Merry Meet Family and Friends!

So, a few days ago I went in for my annual mental health check. Yes, in addition to one's typical yearly visits to the gynecologist, the internist, the dentist and the, ophthalmologist I in fact, go for an annual chat with my psychiatrist. Just to, ya know, make certain that my level of insanity has been unchanged since the previous year.

Now, most people would be reluctant to admit they see a psychiatrist, but I view this as an investment in my mental health. Now I can imagine what some might be thinking, "mmmmmhmmm, she thinks she's a Witch, she sees a psychiatrist, yeah, she's crazier than a bag of rats!”

“You may be right, I may be crazy, but I just may be the lunatic you’re looking for.” ~ Billy Joel.

There had been some decidedly stressful life events that made seeking out a professional’s help absolutely crucial. As some of you know, I experienced the loss of my entire immediate family, my sister, mother and father, all within 15 months, followed by the adoption of my sister's child after she'd passed away. I had been in the process of working a full-time job and raising my own 5 year old daughter, when my sister's son, my nephew, who was a mere three months younger than my own child, came into our lives. This resulted in the parenting of functional twins while attempting to deal with seemingly insurmountable levels of grief. I began having panic attacks. Who wouldn’t?

If you don't think this sort of thing is enough to prompt a visit to a therapist, give it a try. However, I must warn you, it may stretch your perception of sanity to the brink of its endurance. Gratefully, I haven’t had a panic attack in quite some time, but my therapist likes to check on me every now and again to make sure I’m still a Witch. I think he’d be quite disappointed if he were to learn that I turned in my broom!

All this being said, indulge me a moment while I share a brief description of my psychiatrist...tall, dark and handsome with full pouty lips and a Russian accent. He’s a case for what Sigmund Freud described as “transference” waiting to happen, but I digress.

When I arrived at my appointment, he came out to retrieve me from the waiting room, promptly greeting me with, "how's our favorite Witch" and then, "I think about you at every Solstice!” mmmmmhmmmm…

You see, as with many people who were convinced that they knew me well enough not to expect any Earth-shattering revelations, I sort of blind-sided him during one of our sessions by revealing I was Wiccan. Since then, he’s been completely fascinated!

After a brief assessment to insure that my sanity was status quo, he began asking me about Wicca. He pondered whether a Wiccan and a Witch are one in the same and if not, what the differences were. When asked if I considered myself a Wiccan or a Witch, I replied both, which swiftly prompted him to begin scribbling in my chart. I shared that I’d been interviewed by the Philadelphia News about the whole Christine O’Donnell, “I’m not a Witch” fiasco which led to a discussion of the reasons why Wiccans/Witches were so annoyed by Ms, O’Donnell’s comments. I explained our ongoing struggle to try to differentiate ourselves and our practices from that of Satanism. He impressed me by pointing out that Satan was a Christian construct and very different from that of Wicca. Wicca, from what he knew of it, was a very peaceful, harmonious practice that focused on reverence for the Earth, celebrated the Solstices and followed the cycles of the Seasons and the Moon. I kind of knew already this, but I listened politely as he professionally explained the finer points of Wicca. I was still mentally imagining him at a Beltane festival.

Then he asked, “How do you spell this…Wicca?” as he typed it into his Blackberry. I was both bemused and enchanted as he began reading from Gavin and Yvonne Frost’s “Church and School of Wicca” website. “So why do you think it is that this Wicca is so often confused with Satanism?” he asked. I explained that it had a lot to do with media sensationalism. I then mentioned that, having personally known a few Satanists in my time, not even they actually worshipped Satan. Again with the scribbling?

He then asked a couple of questions that I wasn’t entirely comfortable answering. “Where and how often do you meet as a group and how many people are in your Coven?” Without trying to appear too elusive, I offered simply that we celebrated each Full Moon and that a Coven, in the traditional sense, consisted of thirteen members. He asked if there was some secret way to know another Witch when we met. I told him yes there was, but fell short of adding “but if I told you I’d have to kill you” and instead opted for the more sane, but slightly less truthful answer, “by their pentacle, of course!”

So, fifty-five minutes later I was pronounced sane for another year. On the way out, I mentioned that I was off to finish some masonry work that we were doing on our sunroom. He said, “Well, you are a woman of multiple talents!”

“As long as it’s not multiple personalities…it’s all good!” I replied. 

In Darkness, Light!


Tracy

Mysteries of the Mind...

Merry Meet Family and Friends!

So, yesterday I had a decidedly strange, frightening and yet, rewarding experience.

I had received an email a few weeks ago from a counselor at psychiatric facility in our area asking if I would be willing to provide Reiki to one of their patients. The patient, who is on medical disability, had limited resources and couldn't afford the customary fees for Reiki.

Now, I know that there's a line of reasoning about Reiki that suggests that there should be an energy exchange, usually in the form of monetary payment, for services rendered. However, I have always had a real problem charging for healing work and will always offer Reiki, free of charge, to those who are unable to afford the same. I know this may not be consistent with the practice of Reiki, but seriously folks, charging patients who are financially struggling for healing, especially given that I have absolutely no overhead, would be something that would keep me awake at night.

Speaking of things that keep me awake at night, this is where things begin to get a little...strange.

The night before I was to meet my patient, I felt an unease that I couldn't quite put my finger on. Yes, he is a permanent resident in a psychiatric facility and has a history of visual and auditory hallucinations, but that really wasn't a concern. I've interacted with psychiatric patients in the past, I was assured that he was nonviolent and that there would someone present during our session. I actually found the prospect of working with this client...fascinating. Yet, I found myself playing this encounter over in my mind, as I tossed and turned, unable to sleep.

Just as I began to dose off, a disturbing image popped into my mind...

Ok, it wasn't Pope Benedict that haunted my dreams, but seriously who can deny this is the face of evil.  What's even scarier, this guy is a major "Spiritual Leader?"  ::::shudder::::

No, the image was that of someone younger, with dark hair...but the eyes, the eyes were the same.  Almond-shaped, heavy lidded and demonic.


I was startled from my peaceful slumber by a totally unexpected "Holy Crap!" moment!  Pun obviously intended.  The image lingered with me for several minutes as I lay there trying to determine what, if anything, might have prompted it. Nothing obvious came to mind.  Still, I have been dealing with some stressful life decisions and so I chaulked it up to anxiety or just one of those weird things that happens as we're drifting off.  Yes, that must be it.  By the next morning, the incident was completely forgotten.

My patient, David, was a young man who has been schizophrenic since the age of 5.  He was very pleasant in a socially awkward kind of way. Upon our meeting, I asked him how he'd been feeling, what was troubling him and how I might be able to help. He explained that he was diagnosed with a schizophrenic disorder, that he was a very spiritual person who enjoyed meditation, yoga and who was interested in Witchcraft.  He went on to explain that he was experiencing hallucinations in which he saw the "ghost" of his father.  His father is still living, but they have had a very bad relationship. He reported hearing things and being unable to sleep because he felt that things were "poking" him.  I asked if he'd been actually practicing any Witchcraft and he told me he had been doing candle spells and some healing work on people.

Ok, so the man obviously has a significant psychiatric disorder, but that doesn't mean that he hasn't peaked the interest of some spiritual entities that may be taking advantage of his weakened mental state.  It is said that when you begin practicing Witchcraft, you gain the attention of those entities that are drawn to its energy.  I told David that "psychic attacks" while possible, are exceedingly rare.  I suggested he discuss these issues with his physicians to see if perhaps he was experiencing the unpleasant side effects of one of his medications. I further explained that he needed to learn to shield himself properly if he was going to continue to practice any type of Witchcraft.

Although, some practitioners prefer quiet, I enjoy having soft meditation music playing during my Reiki sessions. I find it prepares both myself and my patient for the experience.For me, it's kind of like the scent of incense when I first enter ritual space. Even before the Circle has been cast, I'm already there.

When I was ready to begin David's Reiki session, I asked him to lie down and make himself comfortable. I had my back to him as I fiddled with the volume on my IPod. When I turned toward him, I noticed that his eyes, which were piercing blue and almond shaped, were now completely rolled back in his head!  Suddenly, the image from my dream the night before came flooding back. My breath caught in my throat and I could feel another "Holy Crap" moment coming on! His eyes remained fixed in this position for the entire hour I was with him, even after he'd fallen asleep. I gotta tell ya, it was friggin' creepy!

When our session ended, he seemed much more calm and happier than when I'd arrived. This was more than enough of an "energy exchange" for me.  We chatted a little as I told him the areas that I'd focused on and shared that, in addition to the Reiki symbols I had used, that I'd also surrounded him with some banishing pentagrams, just in case he did have some uninvited guests hanging around.

Afterwards, David left the room and I spoke to his counselor about the possibility of bringing him some Cascaria.  Cascaria is a white chaulk made from powdered egg shells.  It is used in some practices such as Santeria and Voodoo to aid in protection. I was taught that it can be applied to the palms of the hands, the soles of the feet and the top of the head to ward off unwanted energies..

While I truly believe that David's problem is more psychological, than spiritual, I thought that perhaps this might act as a placebo, should he continue to be convinced that he was under some form of psychic attack.  His counselor agreed and thought this was a wonderful idea. 

David ran up to me as I was leaving and asked if I had a pentacle that he might buy from me.  I told him that I believed I did, but that it would be a gift.  He was very pleased!

When I arrived back home, I asked my husband to come out to the deck and to bring some white sage. Given my strange dream and even stranger encounter with David when we'd met, I felt that perhaps some extra precaution might be in order.  I truly felt that it would be best not to enter our home until I had thoroughly smudged myself.   Once inside, I proceeded to wash my hands with soap and consecrated water.  I believe it's always better to err on the side of caution and you know what they say......



In Darkness, Light!!!


Tracy

A Quirky Bunch...

We humans are a quirky bunch, aren’t we? Intelligent, yet savage. Yet, we fancy ourselves to be the most intelligent and most complex of all the species on this lovely place we call home. But are we really?

I watch a dance of nature unfolding outside my window. Rabbits, squirrels, chipmunks, birds, all enjoying the same food source in peaceful cohabitation. They have learned, even without the benefit of our superior intellect, to coexist for the good of all.

So begs the question…what’s up with that?

Think for a moment about your closest relationship; your best friend, spouse, spiritual partner or significant other. I mean REALLY think about them. Can you honestly say you love every unique characteristic of that person? If you can say yes….good for you!!! Personally, I call bullshit! I would be willing to bet there is at least one aspect of that person’s character that you are not entirely thrilled with. I would even go as far as saying that there are friends in your inner circle that you may love, but also, may actually, from time to time, irritate you to an “un-friendly” degree. Alternatively, there are those that you find more consistently annoying, but still consider friends. I believe the correct term is “frenemies”. Despite this, we still feel blessed to have these people in our lives and we are as content to look past their “imperfections” as they are to look past our own. Given the complexity of our human nature, if we didn’t, our species may cease to exist.

But, I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know, right? You are human, after all. Possessing all the intelligence bestowed on us by the Gods and/or creation?

I’m certain we’ve all been asked at one time or another, “Why do you still involve yourself with that person?” And if I'm to be honest, I’ve asked the same question of others. Obviously, not everyone is going to be as enamored with the same people we are and that includes those relationships that are the most significant to us.

Yet, when we truly care for someone, that question may come from a place of concern for their well-being. If the person seems to be caught in an unhealthy pattern of unhappiness based on their relationship, we may be frustrated because they are not seeing things from our perspective. And the fact of the matter is…they may not want to, they don’t have to and more importantly, it’s not our right to expect them to.

But, that’s what we do when we care, isn’t it? It’s one of our more appealing human attributes…empathy. However, there’s a fine line that exists between healthy concern and the desire to control and at times, that line might blur to the point of being indistinguishable.

The true nature of our concern lies in the intention. Why are we concerned and is there true reason for concern? Is the person in question in danger? Do they seem emotionally or physically unwell as a result of this relationship? If the answer is no, then one needs to examine their own motives and intentions, to determine what, if any, benefit will be reaped from the ending of that relationship. If there is any benefit at all, any given advice may be ill advised or divisive.

As humans, I believe we often find ourselves in the eternal quest for the “perfect” in our relationship/s, as well as in ourselves. Occasionally, we are convinced that we’ve found that perfection. Whether it’s a best friend or a soul mate, group dynamic, there’s one thing I can guarantee, even if it comes close, it isn’t. And if perfection in ourselves is unattainable, what right do we have to criticize the choices someone else makes about theirs?

I began to re-examine some of the more challenging relationships in my life; those that I once believed were over before they began. What I discovered about them and about myself was…enlightening. Those perceived “imperfections” were no more or less significant than my own and I began to see and appreciate the “something beautiful” in all of them.

Now consider the more challenging relationships in your life. Perhaps, you've ended them, finding their imperfections insurmountable. What beauty could you find if you looked past their flaws? If you find none exists….so be it. Personally, I call “bullshit”.

Now….shall I tell you what I find beautiful about you?

In Darkness, Light!


Tracy

Scientists cure cancer, but no one takes notice

Scientists cure cancer, but no one takes notice

Blame It On Grandma!

Blessed Beltane, my beloveds!

Today I am celebrating my carefully calculated, albeit not so delicately orchestrated....natal escape!  Yes, it's the day I came kicking and screaming, ass first, into the World!

My birth, however, was a lot like this past Easter. It almost didn't happen! 

You see, my parent's marriage began circling the drain long before it had even been consummated.  My mother, was the youngest of seven children, six girls and one boy, who came from a strict Italian upbringing.  My father, was a handsome, blond haired, blue eyed, bad boy, with a wild heart and temper to match!  Despite my Grandmother's dire prediction that no good could come of it, my Mother found him irresistible!  When they secretly eloped at 19 years old, story has it, that my little Italian Grandma took a broom to him! 

For the first 14 years of their marriage, my parents remained childless. The doctors discovered that my mother had a condition that made the possibility of her conceiving highly unlikely. Sad, but probably not the worst case scenario under the circumstances.

The doctors were even more shocked than my parents, when at 33 years old, my mother became pregnant.  Despite their less than a perfect union, they happily welcomed my sister, Leslie into the World.   Still, their joy was tempered with a warning that, due to my mother's age and her difficulties conceiving, they should be thankful to have one child.

If my parent's relationship improved after my sister's arrival, it was fleeting at best. And if my sister's birth came as surprise, can you imagine my Mother's reaction when, 14 years later, at the tender age of 41 years, she found herself, once again, pregnant!  Back in the day, this gave the term "advanced maternal age, a whole new meaning!

My Mother was in a state of complete and utter...denial!  She consulted two different doctors and took 4 pregnancy tests before she accepted the fact that she was going to have another child!   And I can't really say I blame her! Thankfully, abortion was still illegal at the time or I might not be here to tell the tale!   My father, on the other hand, was beyond ecstatic!  You see, he had mellowed with age and looked forward to the "blessed event". 

And so, on Beltane, more years ago that I am willing to admit...a Witch was born!

Talk about wielding a wicked broom!  Way to go, Grandma!

In Darkness, Light!


Tracy

The Easter That Almost Wasn't...

So, I guess I don't have to remind you that today is Easter Sunday.  I, on the other hand, actually did need to be reminded.

For the past 16 years, Easter, for me, has been a formality.  I've celebrated it, not because I rejoice in Christ's resurrection, but as a courtesy to those in my family who do.  Please don't misunderstand, I am happy for Christ having risen.  And I'm happy for all those that are happy that Christ has risen.   I simply don't follow in the same footsteps as those that rejoice.

When I was a child, Easter was indeed a major holiday.  Almost as grand as Christmas...or at least, to my child's mind, it felt that way.  My Mother would take me for a new Easter outfit every year.  I'd wait with the same breathless anticipation of the Easter Bunny as I'd had for Santa Claus. The evening before, we would sit at the kitchen table dying eggs and on Easter morning, I would wake to a basket overflowing with jelly beans, chocolate eggs and a huge chocolate rabbit. But, when it was time for the Easter Sunday Mass, it would be my Aunt Mary that would take me to church rather than my parents.  I really don't remember my parents attending any type of formal religious services unless someone married or died.   And while I may have sat patiently through the Mass as a child, it wasn't until I was much older that I actually understood the meaning behind the celebration.

Sure, I enjoy celebrating the Christian holidays. I've always loved the warm fuzzy feeling that the "Spirit of the Season" brings. Given that Christ is one of the Deities I honor, and that I have Christian family, I will still celebrate his birth, but that doesn't mean I feel the need to celebrate all the holidays in his honor. I honor him more often, along with my other Deities, with devotions and offerings on my altar.

In light of my father in law's recent passing, there didn't seem to be a reason for a formal Easter celebration this year.  Our Christian family members are scattered too far and wide for us to celebrate together. Our kid's are currently "undeclared" in terms of their religious beliefs, or at least for holidays where there are no actual gifts involved, and have long since outgrown the Easter Bunny. Although, they so bemoaned the tragedy that is their lives without their Easter baskets, that we broke down and bought them each a chocolate bunny.

I must confess that, while at least for me Easter seemed more of an afterthought this year, we will be celebrating it.  We will celebrate in honor of my father-in-law, Mike and all those who find hope and strength in their faith.  And while Christ might suggest that a celebration in his honor belongs to everyone, I believe, I've finally reconciled that I no longer consider Easter one of mine. 

On March 21st, we celebrated the Pagan holiday of Ostara or the Spring Equinox.  It is also a celebration of the return of the sun and is a time of rebirth.  And although the outfit I wore was not picked out for me by my Mom, it was the one she saw me come into the World wearing!

Easter Blessings!


Tracy