4 Comments

  1. Declan Kenny November 7, 2018 @ 3:26 am

    On point, as always ;-)

  2. Risa Aratyr November 7, 2018 @ 7:09 pm

    Thanks, Dec. Looks like it’s option #1 – a bit of hope. Dems did manage to get a foot in the Red Door of government. Not an optimal fighting stance, but winning back the House means my honey and I won’t be putting our house up on the market just yet. If DumbfuckTrumpism had won the day . . .

  3. WEN November 12, 2018 @ 6:22 pm

    Some Tea-Totallers have snuck into our small-town (10k) government, recently. So behind closed doors — in sheep’s clothing — they redrew our district and designated a new voting venue that’s as far from the center of town possible. If we cross the street, we’re in a different city. At a church no one attends,on the corner of an impossibly mangled intersection, which is the ONLY signal-intersection in town, there were long lines for the four (out of eight) working voting booths. Another one stopped working while the line inched forward. In decades of voting, I have never felt so grateful just to cast a ballot.
    In the era of anything-you-can get-away-with, it just might be time to get down in the mud and whip out the dirty playbook…

  4. WEN November 12, 2018 @ 6:29 pm

    !@#$%^&*(*** !!! Sorry, but my new Samhain ritual contains some cursing…

The Season of the Witch

Write-Minded Comments (4)

To all my pagan and pagan-esque friends who think Samhain has passed . . .

design credit: Maxine Miller

 

In a few hours Mother Earth will have reached that powerful moment in her circuit ‘round the sun that is the exact mid-point between the fall equinox and the winter solstice.

TONIGHT is the cross-quarter.  TONIGHT is Samhain Eve.

This is summer’s end; tomorrow is winter’s dawning.  This is the night ghosts of our ancestors return to us.  This is the night the owls call our names.  This night we stand on the threshold, and all gates are open.

Tomorrow we wake to a new world.

We’ll wake to find that somehow, despite apathy, gerrymandering, voter suppression, election tampering, rampant racism, and virulent propaganda, we managed to toss some blue seeds onto the blasted, barren ground of our democracy.  If that’s the gate our planet spins through, we’ll be able to hope that those seeds will take root, and flower, and bear fruit when the old sun has died and the new sun is waxing.

Or we’ll wake to find the reign of white supremacists confirmed.  And we’ll despair for ourselves, for our children, and for a nation that has come to despise the ideals that gave it birth.

If you are ritually inclined, if you have poems to chant, if you have candles and incense to burn, if you know how to raise a cone of power and send your intent into the world . . . tonight would be the time.

And make a wish, because the Moon is Dark, and sometimes – just sometimes – a wish made to the dying moon will come true when the moon is new.

photo credit: webexhibits

 

The Fire is Lit.  The Feast of the Dead is Upon Us.  The Rites of Samhain have begun.

Risa Aratyr @ November 6, 2018

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