image - Adam Bird Photography "It hurts," I cried.
"I know," replied the Witch of my soul, "And look, the Forest beckons."
So it did, once more, a thick underbrush of reckless vines, criss-crossing the broken parts, stitching them anew.
The churned Earth seemed to crumble underfoot, loose and unstable, broken down from all the wandering back and forth, back and forth, without real rest.
"The roots remain, deeper down," she croaked, knowing what was in my mind of course,
images - Natalie Ving You are nobody's first choice. You are easily forgotten. You don't matter enough to be wanted. You are easily replaced. Sound familiar? For as long as I can remember, I just wanted to be someones first choice.
The thought would hit me like a tidal wave of loneliness where my self worth plummeted under the riptide, causing tears until my lungs ached.
The beginnings of feeling that I as a person was replaceable are not difficult to pinpoint; that despite
Here’s to the forgotten ones,
The lonely hearts,
Those who feel like they’re nobody’s first choice,
Who feel like outsiders all day long,
Misfits who can’t seem to relate,
The fragmented puzzle pieces,
The ones who silently observe wishing someone cared,
The not so popular anti conformists with loud opinions and bigger hearts,
The ones who stick out like sore thumbs,
The broken but thriving,
Those who aren’t ever given as much as they give,
The non in
Image - Natalina Drepina source I have spoken before of Shadow Masks and the damage they can do to spiritual seekers; "Slipping into a shadow mask is one of the simplest forms of self-deception. To know ourselves is to resonate from a place of personal power; to ignore and justify our seemingly less desirable qualities or reactions, blaming others for our own shadows, is to make ourselves lesser. This is highlighted where so ever there is personal disagreement; when one perso
image - Helen Warner There were two important and deeply personal spiritual mysteries that remained on the tip of my minds' eye this year.
One was heard, a whisper on the wind, "to crown yourself in roses," the other was felt, an internal chaos that wrecked havoc within and was only later understood; the phantom death.
Both were elusive, like the strands of red thread woven together by the Norns, sisters to the Goddesses of the Underworld.
It felt as though the Nordic God
Image - AM Lorek If you have followed this blog for any length of time you may recall that at Autumn Equinox I perform the Ritual of the Forgotten Dead at which time I honour the gravestones of the forgotten with apple slices.
At Beltane, I have long performed a similar ritual with rose petals.
It is another ritual that came to my personal gnosis through intuitive means; I had not been taught to do so by another (not at least, in this lifetime,) but it felt important in my