Pagan Author Issac Bonewits Passes...

Isaac Bonewits, a well-respected leader in the Neo-Pagan community passed at about 8:00 am, this morning (August 12, 2010) in his sleep, with family and friends by his side, after a lengthy battle with cancer.

Philip Emmons Isaac Bonewits was born on October 1, 1949 in Royal Oak Michigan, and had three sisters and one brother.

In college (University of California at Berkeley), Isaac was introduced to Druidry by his roommate, Robert Larson who was a member of the Reformed Druids of North America. Isaac was initiated as a priest in 1969. He was the first and only individual to graduate from that institution with a degree in magic. This work led to his first book, Real Magic, which was published in 1971.

In 1983, while married to Sally Eaton, he moved to New York where he met Shenain Bell. Together they formed the fellowship Ár nDraíocht Féin (Gaelic for Our Own Druidism) with Bonewits as Archdruid and Bell as Vice Archdruid.

In 1987, Isaac married Deborah Lipp. Their son Arthur Lipp-Bonewits was born at their Dumont, New Jersey home. This marriage ended after a health crisis that severely strained the relationship.

In 2007, Arthur married Phaedra Heymann, a Wiccan Priestess who was with him at his passing.

Isaac was currently working on three new books. One of these was tentatively titled Cancer is a pain in the Butt.

Isaac's full biography can be found at www.neopagan.net .

From the Manchester Pagan Examiner

What Is Brujeria?

Like so much else in the brujo world, I have had not one "name" but several. At one time you would have found me going by Mayahuel, after an Aztec (Méxica) goddess whom I will introduce you to shortly.

In mixed company I'm sometimes just referred to as La Bruja. My friends in Mexico have called me Coyote, the slang term for, oh, someone who gets people and things back and forth across the border after dark, so to speak. This has expanded into Cihuacoyotl, or Coyote Woman in Nahuatl.

But today, in my home temple, mostly I am called Juana Bruja, which is both joking and serious. The "Juana" part is the Spanish version of one of my given birth names. The two together are intended to give an impression such as that as "Jane Doe".

One gem, many facets. That is Brujeria, at least as I know it.

To learn first-hand for yourself about Brujeria, you may want to see if there are any shops called "botanicas" in your area. The next step is to actually go there and start talking with the people running the shop. I'm part owner of a small neighborhood botanica, and the botanica is a great starting point, one that I know actually exists in many areas.

There are few books available on Brujeria. I don't mean bad Spanish translations that immediately convert "Wicca" or "Witchcraft" into "Brujeria"; I know those exist and may be dismally misleading. In the beginning I learned one of the guiding principles of Brujeria was its secrecy, was the fact that it is passed from brujo to brujo. Well, this would explain the lack of material on the subject, but I kept looking anyway.

If you manage to come across a book in Spanish and you have a fairly decent comprehension of written Spanish, the number of books on Brujeria expands. You may also find some good and helpful information too. All right, enough talk about books!

Let's dispense with the silliness right from the start, shall we? No, I'm not obsessed with Carlos Casteneda's works, nor am I something out of Vampire The Masquerade (besides, the Brujah Clan--note that's Brujah and not bruja--doesn't seem to have much to do with Mesoamerican mysticism).

I'm not a fortune teller, either, even if I'm well-known for reading tea leaves. It seems to me that self-proclaimed psychics are a nickel a dozen, and besides, anybody who wants to know their future is, in my opinion, a great fool.

Brujeria is a broad path embracing virtually hundreds of traditions of the Americas--there is no right or wrong way, but many ways.

Brujeria is NOT Wicca and a brujo/bruja is not a Wiccan. We are not Druids or Thelemites or Streghe or the Golden Dawn or (insert your favorite group here). We are what we are, even if what we are is complex.

So what is a brujo/bruja? With the help of Felipe, who is the spots on my jaguar from Sonora, Mexico (but now living rather close by), I think I've finally hit upon an explanation most people can understand.

That explanation begins, of all places, in Siberia with the Russian/Tungus word saman. The saman was an individual using magic to cure the sick, divine the hidden, and control events. This practice, usually referred to in American English as Shamanism, is worldwide.

Taking a step back from Brujeria to examine the two practices brought me to conclude that they are essentially the same thing, with a few differences according to culture. If that's the case, when I say I am a bruja, I am also saying I am a shaman. But remember that Shamanism is as varied as the world itself, so if you don't agree with my conclusions, please investigate the shaman on your own and see what you discover.

How I got here is not as important as the fact that I am here. There are no levels or hierarchy in Brujeria as I have learned it. A person is either a born brujo or not. Brujeria is a vocation in the true sense of the word--a calling, a summons. Don't get me wrong--I don't mean to make it sound exclusive, because it isn't. But without the calling, there is no Brujeria, and therefore no brujo. That's how it is.

Many people ask me what Brujeria is, what is a brujo/bruja. This is a difficult question to answer. Technically, the word "brujeria" is Spanish for witchcraft, sorcery, and magical doings. A lot of this carries over into the practice of Brujeria, but Brujeria is more. In brief, I see Brujeria as an ongoing dance with the vital spirit of the Americas and my role as a bruja as a conduit for the living energy of the universe.

Arguably, today's Brujeria is the continuing magical spiritual path of Mesoamerica (Mexico) which dates back 12,000 years. Brujeria is not a revival of ancient traditions, for those traditions never died out in the first place.

That is to say, to be a bruja is to answer the calling of the Great Mother of the New World.

As you have probably guessed, Spanish is the lingua franca of Brujeria. Many brujos speak nothing else; many brujos speak no Spanish but "brujo/a" and "Brujeria". In my case, I'm using various Mexican dialects (and if you know anything about Mexican Spanish, you know how many variations there are) while learning Nahuatl, the language of the Nahua who are the modern descendants of the Aztecs.

In all truth, it doesn't matter what language you use--the energy is the same. However, Brujeria is also a community, and that community tends to speak Spanish of one streak or another. But I have noticed that more and more English speakers are joining the dance either through friends or the influence of lovers.

My own band of brujos, the Temple of the Jaguar, has come up with a list of guidelines which we simply call the Code (El Código Brujo). Here I offer a translation from the original Spanish into English. You will need to draw your own conclusions, because if it isn't said it's probably not intended to be public knowledge.

1) The universe is a living thing (which is an idea brought into modern Brujeria from Aztec cosmology), and Brujeria is a method of interacting with the living energy of the universe.

2) A brujo/bruja practices what could be termed magic by attuning himself/herself to this living energy.

This living energy can seize a brujo/bruja at any time, or through the concentrated work of an impromptu and inspired ritual.

3) An individual enters Brujeria through a personal encounter with the living energy.

4) Once a brujo, always a brujo. It is something that cannot be shaken off, something like genetic makeup.

5) Brujos/brujas are born and cannot be made, even if they do not come to realize their place in Brujeria until much later in life.

(From this point, I will be using the masculine brujo/brujos when referring to practioners of Brujeria of either sex.)

6) A brujo has no ethical laws or limits to restrict his magic. However, he must also assume complete responsibility for his actions and be willing to submit to the consequences.

7) "A dead brujo is more powerful and more dangerous than a living brujo." What exactly this means is up for interpretation.

8) As Mexican Presidente Beinito Juarez said, "Respect for the rights of others is peace."

9) Brujos are free to use their abilities for non-brujos. Example situations are healing, spiritual counselling, and the creation of hechizos ("spellwork").

10) Brujeria is a community bound together by the living energy of the universe, and all brujos are brothers and sisters. A brujo is pledged to assist a fellow brujo wherever and whenever needed.

11) Some of what makes Brujeria can be revealed to non-brujos but most of Brujeria must remain between brujos alone.

12) Brujeria is learned from brujo to brujo, and through interaction with the living energy.

13) Techincally speaking, Brujeria is a Pagan path, although the brujos seem to have little to do with what has become the better-known "Pagan Community" (or said community doesn't wish to embrace the brujos).

Based upon my own experiences, I contend that this split exists because of Brujeria's apparent lax ethical values (which is just a misunderstanding of taking responsibility for one's own actions), Brujeria's acceptance of the whole magical spectrum as opposed to being good/"White Light"/positive only, or most likely both. In other words, nobody's bothered to look into us much, hence we seem to be as frightening to the "Pagan Community" as they (appear to) seem to want to placate more mainstream religious groups. And once again I ask how these people can scream and rant to be tolerated by the non-Pagan world and yet be intolerant of a kindred Pagan path such as Brujeria. Be tolerated but not be tolerant in return? There's certainly a real lack of harmony there.

This is what I can tell you. No, I won't be cursed for revealing secrets or anything like that. Brujeria remains an oral path, communicated from brujo to brujo through speech, touch, taste, sensation, and experience. Our "spellwork" (if you insist on calling it such) is spontaneous and intuitive. Brujeria really is a living path, one that cannot be captured by the written word.

--By Juana Bruja

High Priestess Is NOT A Dress Up Game!

One of the great privileges I have had as a Pagan writer is meeting interesting people who are shaping the community. Eridanah Crow is a Wiccan activist. She has spoken her mind and given her perspective with what is sometimes a brutal honesty. Whatever might be said about Eridanah, she will not back off from her convictions.

Her work is a call to action, a challenge to all Wiccans to take up the responsibility for the future of the path. According to Eridanah, the reaction has been tremendous. Many people are outraged by her candor, but a good many more applauded her new voice.

In the middle of my research for a book on Nehallenic Wicca, I was fortunate enough to spend an afternoon with Eridanah. We took some time to talk about the issues raised in her essay.

Daneb Rose: How did you first come into Wicca?

Eridanah Crow: I think by the easiest possible way. My parents were and are Wiccan and my siblings and I were all raised with a thorough understanding of the Wiccan path. We were exposed to all of the world's faiths, really. While Wicca was in the house, my parents wanted us to eventually choose the right path for each of us, whether it was Wicca or not. Well, two of us took to Wicca. We attended circles and gatherings with our parents. The rest of the time my parents taught us the essence of Wicca in the world around us. I was seventeen when I first made a formal dedication to a coven, which is the same coven my parents had been in and is the same coven I'm in today.

Rose: You began a formal training at a young age. Do you think this affects you in your later attitudes towards young people in Wicca?

Crow: Most definitely. I remember that the people in the coven were ready to respect me and treat me like an intelligent individual. We had the belief that reincarnation renders chronological age obsolete. I still feel that way. I want to give the respect I was given to young Wiccans. One other thing about this is that the young are Wicca's future. It's up to us to nurture that future.

Rose: I've been reading about the great interest in Wicca among teenagers. Is this a new challenge in Wicca?

Crow: I see it this way. Information about Wicca is more readily available today than ever. But that also means the potential for confusion is greater. If Source X says one thing but Source Y says something else, how is the student of Wicca to determine which is correct for themselves? This is one of the reasons I believe that experienced Wiccans like myself have a real obligation to help young people out, help them in their decisions and understand the reason why behind those decisions.

Rose: What is the solution?

Crow: The solution is for Wiccans to realize their charge to share the treasure of their knowledge. Why criticize someone for a lack of knowledge when giving an explanation is so much more productive for everyone involved?

Rose: Do you find yourself meeting with much opposition?

Crow: Honestly yes. I've had many people tell me that I should stop trying to dictate what Wiccans should do; that Wicca doesn't have a Pope or whatever. That's not how I see what I'm doing at all. I believe I'm trying to bring to the forefront a spirit of sharing knowledge that - at least in my experience - is a central part of Wicca in the first place.

Rose: I have to say that doesn't make much sense to me. Why do you think people would oppose you?

Crow: Greed and ego? Is it more fun to keep the information shut away and secret and make seekers beg for a glimpse? Maybe people aren't secure enough in their own knowledge. Maybe people just don't want to be bothered.

Rose: What is the one thing that you wish everyone understood about Wicca?

Crow: I wish people understood that even though we have an umbrella term like "Wicca," each of us is really walking their own path. No one can walk a path that isn't theirs. No one can walk another's path.

Rose: What are your plans for the immediate future, say late summer into fall?

Crow: Well, I'm still teaching several introductory classes. Not online - that doesn't seem to work out. Our current effort in my group to write a book about our tradition, the Nehallenic, is moving ahead at a good pace. For the most part I'm trying to stick myself in and spread the notion of sharing knowledge to as many people as I can.

Rose: You have mentioned that you went through several years of training experience.

Crow: Right. My Dedication year, First Degree, Second Degree, and Third Degree.

Rose: But do you think people would be willing to devote four years of their lives to training?

Crow: No, and what's more, I don't think I'm any more a Wiccan than someone who suddenly draws the moon into herself on a random night. The structured education was right for me personally, but I know it isn't for everyone. Wicca, however, should not simply be reserved for those who can train. That's a human way of thinking. As it has been said, there is only one Initiator.

--By Daneb Rose

Why Wiccans Are Irritating--A Personal Rant

As always, I'd like to thank the people who support my basic right to disagree with the crowd and my right to hold an unpopular opinion. I could list 134 reasons why Wiccans are irritating. I'd like to point out that the majority of these extra points--as well as the majority of positive mail I receive--have come from Wiccans themselves, Wiccans who are disgusted with members of their own faith who are desecrating the religion through their own ignorance.

As for those of you who have written in telling me to shut up, to take a hike or otherwise drop off the face of the planet, I have this. Take note of the First Amendment of the United States Constitution--you know, the one granting you freedom of religion? Well, guess what? It also protects my right to free speech. If you believe in karma, each time you try and censor my opinion you will likely get smacked in the face about your religion. This is no threat, this is the way of the universe. Chip away at my rights and you cheapen your own. Come to think of it, I can't understand why anyone bothers to send me hate mail anymore. The only thing I can think of is that this page hits a nerve already frayed by the unconscious knowledge of an unattractive truth.

You might be wondering what's set me so against Wiccans. Well, by popular demand, here is the true story--however much I wish it wasn't.

I began dating Kevin in the winter of 1985. Kevin was and is a member of the original Church of Satan, and at the same time a most tolerant and open-minded human being. My own occult interests were waxing towards Wicca. I befriended a local coven in the summer of 1985. I underwent my formal dedication on Samhain of 1986 and experienced my full initiation on Samhain of 1989.

Kevin stayed with me through all of this, being my support and learning along with me. However, in this time the coven changed High Priestesses from a liberal woman to a woman very much interested in the power of hierarchy. Naturally, I was able to get along fine with the new High Priestess--until she overstepped her boundaries.

Around Yule of 1989, the High Priestess recommended to me that I stop seeing Kevin (with whom I was now very much in love) on the basis that he was a Satanist and a member of the Church of Satan. I don't know to this day where she got her information from, but I chose to ignore what was really a subtle warning. She told me to drop Kevin again in January of 1990. On Imbolc of 1990, the High Priestess reprimanded me in front of the entire coven and kicked me out of the group for not following her edict.

This left me with a lot of time to think and reflect on my hands. Wicca and the coven were precious to me, but Kevin was more precious to me. What I learned to feel in Wicca I could take away from the coven. To make a long story interminable, I have been watching and researching trends in the Wiccan way since my own break with my coven. Myself, I have come to be comfortable with my own kind of humanism.

And Kevin? We were married in 1993 and remain a most happy couple to this day. So now you know.

Ignore them and they'll go away. Ha.

Wiccans are multiplying like fruit flies on overripe bananas. Have you noticed? It seems amiss that the "Craft of the wise" should have so much room for mediocre people. Is it money driven? Stay tuned.

This post is the direct result of my contact with people who call themselves Wiccan. I myself, much to my chagrin, was once an initiated Wiccan priestess, before I woke up and smelled the eldritch stench of hypocrisy. If you don't know what a Wiccan is, go do a Net search and find out. Or keep reading. You may find out in the text of this page.

As stated above, I am not a Wiccan fan. Without further pomp, let me get into the reasons why Wiccans are irritating.

Wiccans seem to have forgotten that they are still human and in physical form. They seem to want to float above everyone else.

Wiccans become Wiccan so they can have the title "wise" applied to them, regardless of how stupid they are.

Wiccans claim to be free in form, and then run off to perform prescribed rituals or join covens. Hypocrisy.

Wicca is painfully heterosexual in nature, with its Goddess and its God. Where are the deities representing those of a different bent?

A Wiccan will automatically assume to know more than everyone else on the planet.

Wiccans go by these child's playtime conglomerations of names that are reminiscent of adolescent role playing, or Native Americans.

Too many Wiccans think they can become Celtic by reading books and worshipping Celtic gods.

Wiccans will cover their cars with "Goddess Bless" and "My Other Car Is A Broom" bumper stickers, and then don't know how to drive.

Wiccans let religion pervade their existence to an annoying extent.

Wiccans blab about no magic for money, and then various schools of Wicca pop up to sell secrets to aspiring Wiccans.

Wiccans have gotten so cocky that they no longer appreciate being acknowledged by a non-Wiccan on one of their eight holy days.

Wiccans need to lay off Halloween and Christmas. May Day, Easter, and Groundhog's day are just fine without any deeper ancient meaning, too.

Wiccans are biased against people who aren't Wiccan--although they will NEVER admit it.

Wiccans will prosecute people of other religions (Christianity, Satanism, etc.) while crying out for their First Amendment rights.

Wiccans live in a fantasy world and have lost touch with Planet Earth as the rest of us know it.

Wicca is a really easy religion to buy into, especially if one is emerging from Christianity.

Wicca is no ancient religion, but the invention of Gerald Gardner, who began Wicca in the 1950's.

Wiccans need to lay off the word witch.

Wiccans think they're the wise bunch, while the rest of us cannot catch up spiritually.

Wicca encourages whining, moaning, bitching, egotism, fake self-exaltation, and a million other annoying human traits.

Wiccans have no exclusive claim on the pentagram.

Wicca has stolen most of its rites and procedures from ceremonial magic, without ever making proper acknowledgement.

And I could go on and on about how the Wiccans are irritating, but I think you probably have the general idea by now. It was about time someone spoke out about these kind and benevolent fakers. Too many pages proclaim Wicca as the panacea to spiritual ills.

The truth isn't that Wiccans are evil and wicked worshippers of diabolism. They're even worse. They are irritating.

I would like to take this opportunity to thank the Pointy Hat Ladies for allowing me to blow off steam on their blog and for acknowledging my right to think as I see fit. But if you think you have a quarrel with what I've said, bother ME and not the blog admins. I'm serahashe@live.com .

--By Serah Ashe

Out of the House of Ma'at

Chamber with the scales

Of heart and truth

I see all and hear mine own name

For one and five thousand years

I have been called

“Sacred Lady of Justice and Order

Be with me when I am judged”

Azure ostrich plumes

Fall from my eyes

The blessed tears of Ma’at

Oh children

Why do you invoke me?

You do not understand

You do not serve

In truth I say

Be wary of that bearing

My sacred name of Ma’at

As the green flow of life

Conquers the sand

So will justice prevail over corruption

In calling my name

So you too balance your heart

Against the feather of my integrity

Beware that you summon Me wisely

I am Ma’at who sees within

--By Raven Standingstone

The Ladies of Avalon Live On!

"You got that right sister!" Fortune said, and then laughed. Raven and Bast joined in with her.

The night of the love spell we passed through the mists of the mundane world. Daneb, Jane, Catherine, and Brandie fell away as the witches Lupa, Raven, Bast, and Fortune rose from those mortal shells.

I wore my dark red silk robe, designed to entice and to lure, as I would wear it for you, my love. My sisters were equally splendid with Raven forgoing her usual black for deep purple, Bast in a midnight blue robe that matched her shining eyes, and Fortune in the green of a gardenia leaf.

I had planned on holding the ritual in the room we call Raven's Sanctuary. Few of us have ever been inside, and even then no one would dare enter without Raven's protection. For this place is the workroom and meditation chamber of the most potent woman of the Craft we've ever known although she herself would never make such a claim. It is in this room that Raven communes with Azrael, the benevolent Angel of Death, and His presence lingers everywhere as an unearthly amethyst glow.

"Dunno Lupa," Raven says as she leads me into the sanctuary. "I don't mind us having the rite in here but the ambiance might not be so great for your intent."

So right. I stepped through the doorway and immediately noticed the air was at least fifteen degrees colder than in the rest of the house something that cannot be accomplished through air conditioning trickery. The air was thick, heavy, making it difficult for me to breathe it was air laden with spirits and high magic. Still, there was something erotic, the smell of jasmine and earth and a rampant breeze with a cold touch upon my skin. Raven did not seem to be affected in the least.

Then I noticed the exquisite amethyst pyramid upon an altar, a pyramid we all believe to have been a gift from Azrael. The center of the gem glowed purple, as did some tracks on the floor. "Has He been here?"

Raven looked over her shoulder. "Yes, just today. I see you've been able to detect Him."

"Hard to miss."

"You'd be surprised." She turned fully to me, folding her arms over her chest. "Maybe now you understand why I'm hesitant to hold your love spell in here. I'm not sure my relationship with Azrael is exactly the influence you and Rob need."

I blinked. "You mean you and Azrael are lovers?"

"No!" Raven began to laugh. "No, not at all. He is my friend, my guardian, and my teacher. And I do love Him; I doubt anyone can know Him as I do and not love Him. What I meant is that our business together is not of a nature conducive to mortal love. I would hate to have the remains of our communing ruin your spell."

She had a point. I was getting creeped out. "Then what about the patio?"

"Much better idea."

That was an idea that turned out better than we'd hoped. A huge electrical storm chased itself around the sky. Fortune looked out at the striking bolts and nodded. "You lucked out," she said to me. "This is really some extra power going here. I hope you love this guy, because this spell is going to take. I can feel it."

"Don't worry," I said. "I love him enough for a billion people and an eternity of lifetimes. I have never been more sure of anything."

Fortune said nothing, but her approving smile said all. Raven and Bast came out onto the patio then, carrying what was needed for the spell, a spell of my own devising.

But I had left the creation of the anointing oil up to Raven and Bast. I do not know what they included, and it's taboo in the Craft to ask. There was a scent of roses, that was certain, and maybe lavender and ylang ylang flower too. Ah, well. Perfect love and perfect trust, as we say. My sisters would not let me down.

Grinning, Bast handed me two thick pillar candles, one red and one pink, the colors of love and friendship and all kinds of wonderful things. "When you anoint the candles," Bast told me, "be sure to imagine you're handling his penis."

Even I'd never heard this one before. "Are you serious?"

Bast nodded with all the self-assurance of the witchborn. "It's imagery and projection, Lupa. You put your energies into the candle, the intent of the spell, as if you were handling him. Didn't notice the candle was phallic?"

Actually I hadn't, but my sisters of the New Avalon had not overlooked any detail. So I took the red candle into my hand and thought of you thought of you until I broke into a fine sweat and felt the core of my sex throbbing. With light, teasing strokes, I rubbed the oil into the candle, all the time thinking of how much I love you and how much I would want to dedicate the same time and effort into worshipping your manhood. By the time I'd finished with the red candle and the pink, I was wet, my heart pounded in my chest, and I was euphoric with thoughts of you.

I'd made an incense of roses and frankincense, which would smolder in an abalone shell censer on the makeshift altar. There, too, was Raven's great black cauldron, passed down through her family longer than I have any record of mine. Tonight, Fortune kindled a fire of scented wood within the cauldron. The fire would be at my use at the climax of the spell, when my act of love for you would seal my devotion.

So there we were, the ladies of New Avalon. Fortune had put an Anuna CD on low in the background, and the skies continued to crash around us. I stood in the South, in my element of Fire, of energy, courage, daring, sexuality, passion and love. The altar was set up in my quadrant, as it was my spell. Raven stood opposite me in the North, abandoning her customary place at the center of our normal rites to be my Air, representative of intellect, communication, knowledge and wisdom. In the East, Fortune would be my Earth with her attributes of growth, abundance, bounty, and mystery. Finally, Bast stood to the West as Water, my perfect emissary of intuition, emotion, sympathy, empathy, and reflection. I doubt I could have arranged for a more perfect alignment.

Was I nervous? Believe it or not, yes. I think there's always an element of nervousness when one is serious about what they're doing. Mind you, that nervousness does not mean lack of self- esteem. There is no doubt in the Craft. I must know that what I strive to bring forth will be as I would have it.

As Raven has taught me, there are three rules in the Craft.

1) To will

2) To know

3) To dare.

Sure, there are books and groups who make these simple concepts complex, but Raven's right to present it straight and unadorned. There are enough other complexities.

I'd written the rite to begin with summoning the Watchtowers, also called calling the Cross-Quarters, leaving the exact wording of the invocation up to their imaginations.

Raven disliked calling the Cross-Quarters to open a rite and never did so with Star Mother Grove, but she was willing to play her part for me all the same. "From the North come I, by sword and by virtue. I call the powers of Air to protect me and mine and give strength to this rite of love."

We thought she was finished, but she surprised us.

"Boxty on the griddle
Boxty in the pan
If you don't eat your boxty
You won't keep yer man."

This was a new one. "Raven, where on earth did that come from?"

Grinning impishly, she shrugged. "My Nan used to sing it. Just popped into my head."

"And it's supposed to help us how?"

"By Macha, Lupa, there's more to love than rolling around in sweat and whatnot. Call it a hearth blessing." Accordingly, she touched the broadside of her sword to my shoulders.

All right, then, who am I to argue?

As Raven had come forward bearing her sword, Fortune approached with a wreath of roses from our own garden. "Hey, powers of the East! Powers of Earth! On your guard, for we need you! Look favorably upon us as we seek to help our sister bind her love for her man of the Isle. Fill us with your vibrant energy that this spell we make shall bring joy to the lovers" She then placed the wreath, a beautiful creation of flowers and greens and ribbons, upon my head

Normally I would have invoked my quarter next, but as I was the focus of the spell, I would go last and lead the rite from that point. So Bast came to me from the West, carrying a bottle of our tradition's "holy water" (rosewater, sea salt, and spring water). Bast too defied convention. "Rocked in the cradle of the deep I lay me down in peace to sleep. Secure I rest upon the wave, for thou O Water of the West hast power to save. Not my original work, not totally, but I thought it was right for the occasion." That said, Bast sprinkled the water all about the ritual area and took care in anointing my forehead, throat, and wrists.

I began to wonder if my mental catalog of ritual proceedings needed updating, but the moment, the love, and the focus were upon me. What could I say better that I hadn't already said to you before?

--By Daneb Rose

How to Break Up Without Falling Apart

Why do we do this to ourselves?

Over and over again, we lose our hearts (and our minds) to another human being.  We're giddy each second we're rewarded with their company.  Thoughts of the beloved wander unbidden into our minds when we're buying toilet paper or wrangling lunch from a street vendor.  Before we know it, we begin to wonder, is this it?  Is this the one we've been waiting for?  We may even discover that our beloved is wondering the same wonderful things about us.  The future seems cast in a pastel glow like a July sunset.

And then, before we know it and seemingly out of nowhere, it all comes to a horrifying applying-the-brakes-at-Indy unbelievable end.

"Why" doesn't really matter, even if it's the nagging question that haunts our minds.  Maybe figuring out the why can help us in the recovery, but it's not terribly likely.  Why will only sprout more questions and self-doubt.  What does why matter, anyway?  It's not going to change the present--only living in the present can do that.  In the end, we all have to cope.  We all have to deal.  And then we need to move on with our lives.

If there's a worse feeling to being human than to have loved and lost (beat it, Shakespeare--I respectfully disagree) I don't want any free samples.  Then I think about this worst of feelings and wonder why we bother in the first place.  No one who swears off love seems to stick to that oath.

Yet we keep at it.  Over and over again we go looking for something we might not be able to describe, knowing full well the agony that could be the result.  Well, so long as we're going to keep at this crazy game of tag, we might as well learn something along the way.

Allow me to share a little of what I've learned on my own twisted path, which has included a divorce among other split relationships.  The end of love hurts.  There's no dissembling about it.  Parting from your significant other can take you to depths of emotional pain like you've never imagined.  But the end of a relationship isn't the end of you.  You will go on.  Your choice is whether to go on positively or go on negatively.

There is such a thing as a good break up.  Ideally this would mean a mutual decision to part ways, but you don't need the cooperation of the other person to have a better experience.  It is entirely up to you and your reserve of inner strength.  Are you resolved to handle the end of your relationship as well as you possibly can?  Read these tips, study them, and apply them in your own life.

The end of love is a terrible thing, but don't compound the tragedy by harboring hatred.

Don't hate your ex.  Easier said than done, I know.  Negative feelings--hate, anger, resentment, and so on--won't hurt your ex anywhere nearly as much as they can hurt you.  Hate is an emotional cancer.  It can twist and grow within you.  You have been challenged to instead try and remember what was good about your ex and to try and nurture positive feelings.  Well, all right, neutral feelings are also fine.  The point is to not let yourself fall into the mire of hate.  Raise your feelings and you can lift your outlook on the whole situation.

Honesty should be rule number one, no matter what.

Even when you're standing on the precipice of a failing relationship, don't start spouting lies in a desperate attempt at reconcilliation.  If you feel the need to lie, you're lying to yourself that the relationship can be saved.  If you're angry and hurting, don't shut it away.  Tell the other person exactly how you feel.


Always try talking through any problems.

If you can reconcile your differences, you've achieved a triumph. If you can't, perhaps it's time to be moving along.  Either way, don't let a communications breakdown blur the truth.

Never take the sum total of previous bad experiences and project them onto your current partner.

Whatever hell you may have been through in the past with other people, those people are not your current significant other.  Don't put whatever blame issues you may have onto their shoulders.  This is not fair to them and will only keep you locked in a dark past.


Words and promises really are like the wind until there is action to back them up--or prove them false.

It's easy to promise to change, but much harder to actually follow through with it.  In a desperate situation, your significant other may swear up and down that they will alter their behavior if you would only give them one more chance.  You probably already know how likely that change is.  Don't fall for it.


You can never change another person, so don't think you can fix your partner.

They must find the strength to change inside themselves.  You can offer support and love, but otherwise it's up to that other person.  If change is necessary and your partner lacks the will, maybe it's time to leave.


No relationship is ever a waste a time.

It's true.  Even the horrible ones teach us something--about ourselves, about other people, about life and living.


Relationships are work, and are worth every bit of effort.

Love is not easy.  No one ever said it was supposed to be.  But it is another example of we get out of love what we put into love.  Sure, we may get into fights and hurt sensitive feelings.  But the challenge of love is not to avoid conflicts, but rather to resolve them in the best possible way.  

Whatever the outcome, no relationship is ever a failure.

Relationships are like obstacle courses.  We're meant to meet the challenges and keep moving forward, no matter how long it takes us or how awkward we might be.  However your relationship ends, you still have that experience to enrich your life.

Keep something else in mind too.  No relationship ever really ends.  Everyone we encounter in life will stay with us, somehow and in some way. Remember the good things!