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Going Shamanic Radio

March 1st, 2019

Going Shamanic” is hosted by Jennifer Engracio on P.A.G.E. Media Project’s blogtalk radio each month. The show focuses on how to integrate shamanism into every day life. Instead of relegating the spiritual aspect of ourselves to Sundays at church or weekend workshops, this show will support listeners in weaving ritual, prayer, magic, alignment with the Spiritworld and the Earth into their lives to enrich their experience of living.

This Month’s Topic: Healing with Ho’oponopono

Join us for Going Shamanic as we explore the Hawaiian art of forgiveness called “Ho’oponopono.”  Uncle Harry Uhane Jim joins us to talk about why clearing the past is important to our health and well-being in the present, and shares with us how it’s done.  Don’t miss this show!  It’s filled with wisdom you can take into your daily life.

Harry Uhane Jim is a Kahuna, healer, and teacher. He is the author of the book, “Wise Secrets of Aloha.” He was born and raised on the island of Kauai in Hawaii.  He has been doing healing work for many years and has been trained in the traditional apprentice style by the best known native Kahuna’s of the last seven decades.

Instead of relegating the spiritual aspect of ourselves to Sundays
at church or weekend workshops, this show will support listeners in
weaving ritual, prayer, magic, alignment with the Spiritworld and the
Earth into their lives to enrich their experience of living. Jen is
also the founder of Spiral Dance Shamanics.

Going
Shamanic
is hosted by Jennifer Engrácio,
about how to integrate shamanism into everyday life.

***

About
the Author:

Jennifer
Engrácio
has been a student of
shamanism since 2005. Jennifer is a certified teacher who has worked
with children in many different education settings since 2001. She is
a certified shamanic coach, reiki master, and lomilomi practitioner;
in addition, she runs Spiral Dance Shamanics. Originally from
Vancouver, Canada, she now lives in Calgary, Canada with her life
partner.

Engrácio
participated in self-publishing three books that are now available:

The
Magic Circle: Shamanic Ceremonies for the Child and the Child Within”

Women’s
Power Stories: Honouring the Feminine Principle of Life”

Dreaming of Cupcakes: A Food Addict’s Shamanic Journey into Healing

For
more information go to: www.spiraldanceshamanics.com

Up to now I have dwelt on many of the positive aspects of Paganism, but every lifestyle has its downsides. Many of the negatives aspects of various forms of paganism come from ideas that are carried over from mainstream religious backgrounds,- particularly from the more fundamentalist groups. I believe that Aleister Crowley is a particularly good example of this. Most of his emotional problems, and his deliberately shocking behaviour, seem to have stemmed from a reaction to his upbringing as a member of the Plymouth Brethren.

Paganism is a very wide term, covering many beliefs. Some belief systems are variations on older religions, some are attempts to come to terms with mankind’s mythology and archetypes in a new and individual way,- and some are obvious reactions to the childhood beliefs of the persons involved. My own personal opinion is that those who would style themselves as “Satanists” or vampires are not “Pagan” in any real sense,- but merely aberrations of the western Christian cultural milieu. However, I have no problems, either way, with any beliefs that are within the law and harm none.

Nevertheless it is precisely those ideas carried over from our childhoods that cause most problems for those embarking on a path of spiritual discovery. The world may seem secular, but the majority of our parents and grandparents came from a background which was steeped in some mainstream belief system. I was taught by monks in Ireland, but even in more modern western countries, most parents would have had an education with a strong religious basis. We may find a new freedom in our chosen path,- but, many of us carry unexamined assumptions from our childhood. These make us either fearful or judgemental when we finally come face to face with those beings who inhabit the astral worlds. I will leave it to the reader to decide what level of “Reality” they would ascribe to these worlds. I personally know from experience that they can, and do, impinge on mundane reality.

Nature is neither dark nor light,- It is both. So too are the other realms and those who inhabit them. To ascribe evil to either darkness or light is a folly based on childish assumptions, and fuelled by the film industry. Sitting here typing, I can easily believe that there is no ultimate evil,- only unbalanced people and unbalanced denizens of the astral realms. However, in the heat of an encounter, we can quickly slip back into childhood patterns of belief and behaviour.

I wish to share one such encounter with the reader. If my description seems somewhat dramatic and judgemental, it is precisely because of those anachronistic beliefs which still lie hidden in my own psyche.

Long before I discovered Paganism, I discovered darkness. I do not mean the soothing softness of moonlight or the peaceful interlude between days. I mean the darkness that hides in every human heart. As children, we are much more honest and perceptive. I do not believe that we are really fooled by the adults around us, but simply realise at a certain age that honesty would be a fatal error, so we learn to habitually deny what we see, in favour of accepting the consensus of reality. As I matured, I left behind many of the myths that they indoctrinated us with. However, I still find myself wondering about the concept of evil, especially the idea of negative supernatural forces which can prey on the minds and emotion of mankind.

I would like to share a personal experience from about thirty years ago, which made me, again, wonder about the existence of dark, supernatural beings.

It was, I think, 1986 or thereabouts. I was running a small engineering workshop in Dublin, with a friend called John. We had a workshop on the site of the old Weatherwell Tiles buildings in Clondalkin.

John and I were crossing the yard, when a sheet of newspaper blew across and landed at our feet.

There on the page facing us was a picture of one of his uncles and an article about him being taken into a mental home for his own safety. John was visibly shaken and told me the story of his uncles.

The uncle in question was living at John’s old house. John had been forced to move out when his uncles behaviour had distressed John’s wife to the point of illness. He was a compulsive hoarder and brought home rubbish from local skips and bins every day. There was a second uncle, who John was not forthcoming about, only saying that he was quite violent and had to be sectioned. John had simply left them with possession of the house and moved to the outskirts of Dublin.

Knowing that I was psychic, John asked me if I would do a reading and see if he was okay. He said that he could not bear to get in touch. He just wanted to reassure himself without any further involvement.

I agreed to finish early that day and take the paper home as a focus to do a reading. The house I was sharing at the time was empty, so I quickly made a cup of tea, and then laid out the sheet of newspaper and laid out a spread with the tarot cards. I believe that my hurry, and lack of preparation, were at least partially responsible for what happened that day. I cannot remember the spread after all these years.

I can remember the death card and the moon, then judgement. I lit a cigarette and sat back for a moment, as I realised that John’s uncle had indeed passed. As I relaxed, I could feel his uncles presence trying to communicate. He seemed a kindly old man. But I never got any further in communicating with him.

Suddenly the room became very cold. I could feel goose pimples on my arm, and a pressure around my head. Darkness seemed to seep into the room from all four corners.

It was as if I was in a bubble of light,- with the darkness pushing in from all directions. I broke into a cold sweat . What I sensed, pushing in on me, was neither pleasant nor friendly. I sensed a cold arrogant presence and half-heard a humourless laughter. I called on my guardians and began to push the darkness back. It was almost touching me at this stage and I was afraid that some sort of possession or over-shadowing was becoming very likely. As I pushed the entity back, I built a ball of white light within my solar plexus area. When I felt that it was ready, I allowed it to explode outwards, and I blasted the dark energy from the room. I was quite shaken by this episode, so I cleared up and I made myself another cup if tea and a cigarette. I must admit , that having being disappointed by many rituals attended up to this point, I had not a full appreciation of their worth and normally only used “mental” magic at that stage of my life. Since then, I have a new found respect for the power and the beauty of a ritual that is written and performed by those who are truly enlightened.

These days I would have done a full cleansing ritual on the house, and perhaps brought in trusted friends to be certain that the house was cleared. I was careless, and perhaps a little arrogant then, and I paid the price in months of annoyance and unexplainable events around the house.

That night, as I drifted off to sleep, the entity came back. It looked like something from a horror film. The face appeared almost touching mine. It had sharp angular features, as if it was made by a computer. It seemed to be created from many straight lines of energy, etched onto a black background, and gave an impression of spikes of energy coming out at me. Each time I drifted off to sleep the entity would be back to disturb me. I had weeks of annoyance and unexplained breakages and disappearances around the house. Nothing seemed to banish it. Luckily a friend popped in for a cuppa one day. He was an exorcist. I told him about the nuisance and he persuaded it to follow him home. It took him three months to finally rid himself of the entity.

Most of the problems that people have when dealing with other realms come from fear, and the negative expectations that it creates in us. I am not saying that negative energies do not exist,- but I do think that we clothe and feed them from our own uncontrolled subconscious energies.

We need to choose carefully when selecting people to work with in self-development. I normally work alone or with my wife, Tina. Before we do any work,- we should always cleanse the area, call on our guardians, and ground ourselves. I will dwell on this in more detail at some point, when space permits. Learn to develop a nose for drama, then you will be able to sense when your imagination is leading you down a path of illusion. I will finish with a poem which describes this type of drama and clearly shows the work of subconscious impulses in creating a magical story.


paganways

 

 

An Angel Dreams.

In the sacred space between the worlds, an angel slept.

As planets circled in the loving comfort of her breast.

Galaxies spread out like sparkling gems upon her robes,

The universe beneath her, like a silken web on which she took her rest.

An entity with purpose foul and aided by a creature half divine,

Struck her cruelly through the heart as she lay dreaming worlds, not yet begun.

Her vast eternal heart, for just a moment, ceased its perfect rhyme.

And in the galaxy for which she cared, a icy comet pierced a friendly sun.

Thunder roared and lightning flashed across the darkened sky.

The thick black clouds were tinged with bloody red.

Travellers hurried home in fear and certainty that something was awry,

Worriedly they cast a nervous eye, and prayed to make it safely home to bed.

In his lofty tower, the mage was marking symbols on the grimy, granite walls.

Mumbling garbled incantations, as he chalked a doubled circle round the room.

In the smoke of acrid incense, shadow-figures formed and then dissolved,

The candles, and the glowing brazier in the centre, barely lit the gloom.

The earth beneath the craggy outcrop groaned, as screams reverberated from the very depths,

They shook the tower, as tiles fell down and smashed upon the trembling dirt.

The seas rose high and dashed against the shore and swallowed many shivering ships.

While lofty mountains burst and molten tears ran down the face of mother earth.

All around the world, the people loudly prayed, as jagged flames lit up the skies.

In the bowels of the earth, the sleeping giants awoke and hurriedly prepared to wage the final war.

The mage continued chanting, with his trembling voice and fear filled eyes,

The evil he had summoned, gathered strength to strike the guardian of the world once more.

The rumblings deep within the earth, disturbed the little people at their play.

Angrily, they donned their armour, and with swords and bows, they flew on tiny winged steeds.

They loosed the demon hounds and sent them off to seek their prey.

And in the blinking of an eye they stood before the crumbling tower, and saw the mages deeds.

A thousand arrows flashed and struck the ground around the ancient tower.

Within a moment tendrils quickly grew, and spreading thickly, climbed its lofty heights.

The ancient tower groaned as it was crushed and swallowed back into the earth.

And before the sky had cleared, and all the seas were calm,

The Fae were home again, engaged in dancing and in mirth.

Patrick W Kavanagh 23/10/2014

Picture by Boy So Blue Graphic Arts and photography.

Goddess Leading

     Raised in a Christian household, as an adult I was actively involved in my church, following in my mother’s footsteps. But then, six months after she died, I did a simple ceremony to release her and felt a powerful feminine Presence materialize in the ethers beside me. “I will be your Mother now,” that Presence said. Only much later did I realize it was the Goddess, She Who was never ever mentioned in my world. And suddenly, all I wanted to do in my leisure time was search out esoteric books on Celtic lore and times, a hunger within propelling me that I didn’t understand. During the summer before my oldest daughter left for college, we took a trip around the coast of Scotland (sunwise, not that I thought about that then.) And we stopped at every stone circle, souterrain, and barrow along the way, tramping through farmers fields and up unnamed hillocks (until my girls simply refused to get out of the car to look at any more!). My heart was literally starved for connection with my motherland and the divine feminine that poured into my feet and legs as I walked that soil. But after twelve years of voracious reading and searching, I remained restlessly unsatisfied. The Celts hadn’t written anything down, and many of the texts that tried to fill those spaces were confusing or filled with gaping holes or obvious distortions. I kept sensing ancient truths and mysteries, just beyond my reach.

     Then I attended a week-long retreat with a Celtic shaman, which left me astounded to realize I could talk telepathically with trees, stones, and turtles, that I could slip between small spaces and enter other worlds, where druid teachers stood ready to teach me in the hushed silence of moss covered trees. How many more stone circles I visited that way! Saying very little, the waiting druid guides led me on mental journeys to sacred sites and other realms where I’d lived before or quietly opened portals in my heart and mind. At first, I kept trying to talk with them, asking question after question about Celtic life, which brought only gentle smiles and amused silence in response. Not one of those druids ever said, “You must do this or that,” thank Goddess! The choice was always mine in the end. Such silent respect and service to my wondering soul drew me to the path as nothing else could, for in my life I’d known a fair amount of control, servitude, and neglect. And mysterious surprises kept appearing in my outer world, too, beckoning, beguiling me down this Goddess misted path.

     A few years later, I was led to attend a school of energetic healing, using light to heal inner fear in a simple meditative process. And I watched in utter wonder, after one of my classmates or teachers did a healing with me, as the spirit world meticulously cleaned up every reflection of that recently transmuted fear in my outer world. It quickly became very, very clear that my inner fears, many from past lives and my long ago descent from heaven to earth, were holding the patterns of my life in place. None of my druid guides explained this, either, their teachings fiercely experiential. They simply surrounded and held me in silent wisdom and ancient love as I observed and learned for myself. My life was a bit of a shambles back then, a difficult divorce and concomitant financial nosedive with three daughters to raise. And in my misery, these small sips of freedom the Goddess held out put wings on my heart and feet.

     So I began to do healings on myself every morning and evening, hoping for release into happiness within a year, at most. But every time a fear was healed, a new fear took its place. And negative circumstances kept occurring in my life to activate these new fears and open the ancient memories for healing. Life was full of these surprises, though I learned not to take them seriously, for they disappeared as soon as I transmuted them in my next few meditations. Plus, these challenges were interspersed with Goddess enchantment that often left me breathless with joy—like the day I was wrung out from a cross-country drive and a nasty encounter with a lady at a B&B. And suddenly, as I flopped on the sofa after finally arriving home, a hundred fireflies lit up at once, all fluttering just outside my windows in the deepening dusk. I felt their hearts surrounding mine like a crowd of happy children, lifting me instantly out of my fatigue and despair. The most lightning bugs I’d ever seen before were five or six spread out over the river and meadows below. So sweetly magical, that was! And things like this began happening more and more, too, Goddess blessings, every one.

(photo from smithsonianman.com)

     Every couple of weeks, the color that filled my aura moved down into the ground, and another came in from above, as if I was ascending a rainbow ladder of light somehow. I began to tune into these colors, feeling them intimately. And every couple of years or so, there was an intense passage with severe anxiety or time pressure or financial strain that lasted several weeks. And at the end of each of these times, I broke through into a whole new realm in my mind, a place entirely different from what I’d seen in my meditations before. And each time this happened, the outer circumstances of my life instantly changed as well: a home sold, a change of partner, a move, or new financial resources that broadened my life and work. There were seven of these passages, and I could feel that they were initiations: the first earth, next water, then air and fire, then cherub, bone, and diamond. I could see concentric sheaths of light in my aura burning off in light as I emerged through these passages, too, moving from outer to inner. The last challenge is still ahead of me, the diamond initiation, connected with my core wound, my guides say. Currently, I am working in the final sheath within, too, an intensely bright light in the heart’s core that matches the seventh world of the inner planes, the heaven they call the Diamond Core.

     It’s been twenty-one years now since I began this healing process, thirty-six since my Mom passed over, years of solitary druid practice, for no one in my world has been very interested in my path, very few even respectful of the Goddess Who holds me so tenderly, especially in my pain. But during all these years, my inner world was filled to overflowing with fae friends leading me to sparkling fabrics or recycled clothing in nooks and crannies of discount stores, then telepathying unusual designs for ceremonial wear to sew, suggesting delightfully unique recipes for dinner at the last minute, or leading me on spontaneous outings in the forest. My druid star brother was ever nearby, too, teaching me laws of love of the Celtic realms of heaven, the sacred geometry of nemetons, and holding up a standard of respect for all life that was literally out of this world, along with my star sister, always ready to help me understand those ray colors and inner planes of light, 350 in all, that neatly sorted themselves into those seven heavens. The Celtic pantheon appeared, too, one by one, over the past seven years, as regents of the fifteen structures of light in the Diamond Core that regulate cycles too numerous to mention, as I slowly moved up the inner spiral staircase of light.

     Over these years, my home was gradually transformed with Celtic art, a priestess wardrobe, oak leaves and interlaced designs, crystals, faeries, and roses everywhere. The Goddess called Herself the White Tara, and I began to call the God, Oghama, not Christ. And They became my best Friends, eternal partners in love and union without any of the friction between the divine masculine and feminine so common on earth. I began to feel a growing fusion of that Celtic heaven with earth, a rising of the Goddess and resurgence of the Celtic world here, but healed of the old black magic and sacrifice beliefs. Even my smallest questions were finally answered, the warp and weft of the Celtic tapestry finally mended, not by words, but by years of facing fear and embodying truths that empowered my spirit, understandings born of living experience over many years that remade my own little world into a place of shimmering beauty that thoroughly nourished my soul. The Goddess teaches wisdom first and foremost. If you are tempted to give up on your path, I suggest holding on till the next magic lifts you out of distress, for Her gifts have been amazing and ongoing.

     But then, my inner longing has shifted once again, for more than any other thing now, I wish to see that Celtic heaven manifested on earth. My druid guides tell me that humanity was once born into light in a single instant in this seventh heaven, each person with an eternal love partner in the image of God/Goddess. And each person has the structures of one of the twelve sacred cultures of the Creator Sun fused into her or his very bones, the specific culture depending on the location each person was created out of there. No wonder I can’t help buying yet another Celtic tapestry at the Renaissance Faire! I am guided to start an intentional community based on those laws of love of the Celtic heaven, Celtic to the core: Celtic art, music, sacred spaces, and architecture, pagan ceremony (blended with open-minded Christian, uniting the two sacred traditions of Scotland in mutual respect), and deeply honoring love for the Goddess, finally! I can’t wait for that! May Her bright blessings enfold us all and lead us Home soon.

***

About the Author:

Jill Rose Frew, Ph.D. is a clinical psychologist, energy healer, workshop leader, and author. She is hoping to found an intentional community in southern Scotland in the near future. For information, please see www.thehomestarcommunity.org

She is author of Guardians of the Celtic Way (her name was Jill Kelly then), and Alba Reborn, Volume One Revised, and Volumes Two and Three.

For Amazon Information Click on Images

 

 

 

 

 

Going Shamanic” is hosted by Jennifer Engracio on P.A.G.E.  Media Project’s blogtalk radio each month. The show focuses on how to integrate shamanism into every day life. Instead of relegating the spiritual aspect of ourselves to Sundays at church or weekend workshops, this show will support listeners in weaving ritual, prayer, magic, alignment with the Spiritworld and the Earth into their lives to enrich their experience of living.

This Month’s Topic: Sister & Brotherhood Circles with Lori’ and Phil Nelson

On this episode, Jen welcomes Lori’ Black Cave Dreamer and Phil Eagle Song, both certified shamanic practitioners.

There is a need in our society for women and men to gather with others of their same sex to share and to learn more about what it means to be a whole man or a whole woman. This show talks about what the differences are between women and men and why Sisterhood and Brotherhood Circles are such an important support for communities on the planet.

Going Shamanic is hosted by Jennifer Engrácio, about how to integrate shamanism into everyday life.

***

About the Author:

Jennifer Engrácio has been a student of shamanism since 2005. Jennifer is a certified teacher who has worked with children in many different education settings since 2001. She is a certified shamanic practitioner, Reiki Master, and lomilomi practitioner; in addition, she runs Spiral Dance Shamanics. Originally from Vancouver, Canada, she now lives in Calgary, Canada with her life partner.

Engrácio participated in self-publishing three books that are now available:

The Magic Circle: Shamanic Ceremonies for the Child and the Child Within”

Women’s Power Stories: Honouring the Feminine Principle of Life”

Dreaming of Cupcakes: A Food Addict’S Shamanic Journey into Healing

For more information go to: www.spiraldanceshamanics.com

As a child, I led such a weird childhood. I was known for seeing things that weren’t there and knowing things before they happened. I felt like a sin in my parent’s household as I was being raised in a Christian church. As I aged, I found solace in Wicca. Life and the things going on finally made sense.

When I was pregnant with my son (Little Bear), I made the decision to raise him in a Pagan household and support him, no matter what religion he decided on. Little Bear is now 4 years old and this has proven to be the best decision. He has shown signs of experiencing the same things that I went through as a child. Little Bear is a natural born healer, empath, and animal lover. He has to sleep with a light on because the dark brings weird things with it. While I cannot confirm it yet, it sounds like he is seeing people that have crossed over.

One of the major things that Little Bear and I have started doing is celebrating the Sabbats. Any reason to celebrate, right?

June 21st was Litha or the Summer Solstice. This is the longest day of the year and Little Bear and I took full advantage.

Every Sabbat, we discuss the Wheel of the Year. This helps remind us where we are on the Wheel and where we are headed. Because this follows the seasons, it is easy for Little Bear to understand. We discussed how Litha falls in the summer and some of our favorite summer activities. Little Bear loves grilling out, riding his bike and playing in the water.

The day started before sunrise. I poured out orange juice and we headed to the porch to watch the sun. It was a warm, quiet morning. I explained to Little Bear that we should be grateful for everything we have. I asked him what he was happy to have. “My bike, my mom, my bed, my dog” and the list went on and on. I smiled at his innocence and gave my own thanks internally. As the sun rose above the horizon, the world started coming alive. The birds started singing, the neighborhood stray cat came to visit, and we watched a herd of deer in the field across the street. We ended the morning with a barefoot walk around the property. We stopped at the outside altar and poured orange juice into the fairy dish as an offering. This is one of Little Bear’s favorite parts. We actually had to make a fairy altar closer to the house so he could easily access it without supervision.

After work, I had Little Bear help with dinner. We were preparing Grilled Chicken Salads. As we pulled the vegetables out, we talked about each one. Where they came from, how they grow, what the health benefits are, and what kind of super powers the vegetables might give us (This was Little Bears idea). I feel that knowing the health benefits of each vegetable will help Little Bear develop his Kitchen Witch side as he grows.

While making the salad, I noticed Little Bear had made a pile that contained a piece of each vegetable that went into the salad. It was his offering for the fairies.

We ended the night with a bonfire and watching the sunset. The longest day of the year had officially ended.

It may seem like I do a LOT of talking with Little Bear and I do. Little Bear is at the age where he is like a little sponge. He is asking tons of questions and curious about everything.

The next Sabbat is Lammas and I’m excited about it. This has always been a personal favorite because I love to bake bread. Lammas is the start of the harvest season. So breads, wheats, grains, grapes, apples, corn and wild berries are great foods. While I don’t have recipes pulled together yet, corn dollies and bonfires are part of the ritual for sure!

Some ideas to do with children are:

-Corn Dollies

-Magical Picnics (Make sure to leave an offering!)

-Collect berries for jams or jellies

-Time to harvest the garden

-Create a Witches Bottle (smaller children will need help with this since you will be working with sharp objects!)

-Time to redecorate the altar

-Visit an apple orchard (bring some home if the apples are ready!)

-Collect rain or storm water

-Bake bread, cakes, or muffins (cookies could be substituted so the little ones can decorate)

The biggest thing to remember, “It’s not about the action you are doing but the intent you are putting into it”.

What are some fun ways you are celebrating the Sabbats with your child/ren?

Blessed Be!

The Bad Witch’s Guide to Pagan Prayer

(Photo by A L L E F . V I N I C I U S ? on Unsplash)

A
lot of people assume I don’t pray. This is wrong. I have a daily
practice and that means I connect in some degree to what is sacred to
me and within me, usually daily.

My
prayers can look like regular praying, or dancing, or cooking or
nothing at all. Let us talk about what I mean when I say prayer.

To
me a prayer is the mental and spiritual and sometimes physical
seeking of connection to the Divine within and outside of the self. I
have prayers I have written as well as some from the Feri tradition
on my bedroom walls. I may repeat those silently or aloud as written
as as my heart directs in the moment. The words are important but it
is the sensation of connection, or depth, of Anwen that lets me know
I am not just reciting. I am deliberately altering my consciousness,
with a mind to connection.

While
I also meditate often, meditation differs from prayer. In prayer I am
expressing something to myself and the Gods. In meditation I am
listening. I surrender to that connection. Sometimes I listen more
than I speak, sometimes I speak more than I listen. At the root of
prayer is hope, at the root of meditation is trust, faith. That is
why meditation is difficult for a lot of people. Not just because it
takes practice but because to surrender your thoughts, to really
listen within and without is an act of surrender. You have to let go.
Scary stuff for a lot of people.

Prayer
is different. It is an expression of seeking and of holding on, maybe
even building something. Even if there were no Gods prayer would be
important as an expression of our hopes, our strength and desire for
life and connection. An affirmation of awakened selves.

Sometimes
I call on specific Deities though more often I call on the Lord and
Lady, God and Goddess, or even simply Ancient Ones. I usually call
Herself first and then Himself. It was the Feri way I learned early
on and one I still use. I find myself “speaking” more to Herself
and “listening” more to Himself.

I
like the Charges a lot too. Though I don’t use them directly often
save in ritual circle.

Praying
can be dancing, my unspoken hopes and desires moving my body and
radiating that into the world. It can be in song, pagan in origin or
otherwise. It can be in my hands as I touch someone (I like “may
what is sacred to you heal you”). There are prayers in my teacup,
in the glass I use to take my medicines (I am getting better
everyday), in the spoons I use to stir my cooking food. Even if it is
only the words “thank you”.

I
was lucky enough to trade and receive a book of translated
prayer/poetry of Inanna. It is fascinating, ancient and beautiful. It
is rather sexy in places too! As a prayer it is a love poem. “She
who adores, adore me!” It was eye opening because prayer for many
people is a saintly bland affair. This was funny, entertaining,
erotic and tragic. It was eye opening.

Prayer
is more than a wishlist of wants like a child’s list of presents to
Santa. Prayer is speaking in heart, body and mind to what is sacred.
There are wonderful prayers out there but crafting your own is both
more personal and more relevant. You have the option to be as
specific as you like. Writing is often a prayer too. Whether it is
poetry in my many notebooks, on twitter or articles like these, I
have to connect to write. I have to reach into the light within me
and the light without to find the words, though sometimes I can not.
Sometimes there are no words only sounds or sensations.

One
of the other techniques some Feri traditions teach is to simply speak
to your Gods. No thee, thy, thou. Just you talking. Though I do this
least I do find it helps keep me sincere. It is a helpful expression
of where you are. Part confession, part shooting the breeze, this
kind of prayer is both cathartic and humbling. As someone whom has
been and felt I had to be superwoman this gave me a space where I
didn’t have to be perfect, all-knowing or strong. I could rest my
head on my Mother’s breast and cry, rest and just be.

My
personal shrines within my bedroom are where I come to pray most
often. I find cleaning them and it’s objects a prayer in itself.
While I do give offerings to the Gods this is usually part of rites
and ritual rather than daily prayer. I don’t like having food in my
bedroom, so if I do give offerings it is usually flowers, crystals
and objects like feathers I find that have meaning to me. Much like
my own daughter as a small child would bring me flowers and pretty
things.

If
praying is something new for you start small. Something short you can
remember easily or write in a journal. Taking a few moments to say
something from the heart is a beautiful way to start or finish your
day. It can be specific or open as you like.

Goddess
you are the sweet sacred earth

I
am of your body and I am blessed.

Goddess
you are the sacred waters of life

I
am of your body and I am blessed.

Goddess
your breath is the sacred air we breathe

I
am of your breath and I am blessed.

Goddess
you are the candle and the star

I
am of your radient light and I am blessed.

Goddess
your way is that of gratitude

Your
way is of peace.

Your
way is of joy.

Your
way is that of love.

Your
love willed me into creation.

I
honour you and I am honoured by you.

So
mote it be.

You could easily add a named Deity of your choice, replace blessed with anything else, like strong, wise, or holy. You can make it as complicated or simple as you like, it is the reaching with your heart and mind for that sincere connection that matters. So mote it be means “as I have spoken it will be so”. I prefer it to Christianized Amen. Blessed be is always a good ending too. Different paths may have different wordings. If you do something while you do this prayer, like light a candle or such after a time the act itself becomes connected to your prayer.

You
do not of course have to pray. Yet if you are seeking I think it is a
worthy endeavour. It is in the seeking that it matters. For if you do
not find it within you will never find it without.

The
one place Gods inarguably exist is in our minds where they are real
beyond refute, in all their grandeur and monstrosity.”


? Alan
Moore

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