Always there, waiting

Sometimes I sit down to write a poem, sometimes a poem sits me down to write it, and sometimes someone sparks one off of me.  Thanks, T., for a question you may not have known you asked:

Always there, waiting

Time and tide may not wait, but
The sea herself is patient. All gods
Within her, too; their realm is first,
Fuller; deeper than dry land is tall.
Each drop of rain tastes of the abyss,
Each downflowing trickle of stream
Is a tendril, like seaweed, calling-
Siren and Whale and Admiral,
Or Earth-shaking trident-wielder,
Or nine-daughtered Ship-slayer,
Or mist-cloaked Trickster,
Or oh so many Others-
They all sing in the salt flow
In our veins, and choose or not
We are always, helpless, listening.

— 7/16/17

LARP and Minstry (part 1)

So, one of my hobbies is live action roleplaying (or LARP).  I used to do it a lot more, but I still have a significant interest in it.  Most of my LARP time these days is taken up by a live-combat medieval fantasy game called Xanodria.  I’ve been playing various roles since 1995, and I recently retired a priest character who I’d played for over ten years.

Yes, there is a point to this (other than proving that I’m a huge nerd).  I learned a lot from this experience, about being a minister in particular.  As well as spending a lot of time just being this character- holding weddings and funerals, counseling the faithful, etc.- I got to get deeply involved in the theology of his fictional religion, fleshing out details and working on some knotty problems.

It’s the counseling I want to touch on first.  My character did a lot of it- he was spiritual advisor to an order of warriors dedicated to protect the light and fight the shadow (think the Rangers from LOTR with even more weapons training) as well as to members of his faith.  He spent so much time talking to troubled adventurers that he joked that he should have regular office hours.

This was a great gift for me in my real life.  It helped me hone my skills in the same way that class simulations do, and allowed me to experiment and fine-tune my methods without worrying about real-world consequences… no matter how badly I screwed up, the game session would be over at the end of the weekend and everyone would go back home.  Sure, mistakes could impact the player’s happiness as well as the character’s well-being, but it still wasn’t critical.

In some ways, it was better than a classroom simulation.  The games run for a whole weekend, so my character could have repeated sessions with another, including time for both to reflect and adjust.  And the players of these games tend to invest in their characters, putting a lot of time and emotion into them, giving them detailed backstories and spending hours or days simply being them.

I was enrolled at Cherry Hill Seminary for much of the time I played this character, and what I learned there informed how I acted in the game as well.  It created a beneficial feedback loop that I’m still reaping benefits from.

Sometimes we’re living in science fiction. Sometimes it’s more like a Borges story.

[I used to publish my non-devotional poetry on my LiveJournal account, but their recent TOS changes make me unwilling to do so.  Until I figure out whether I’m going to bother with Dreamwidth for anything other than reading others’ journals, I’m going to post it here when I feel so moved.  Honestly, since I dedicate all my poetry to Brigid, none of it is actually non-devotional…]

Inspired by this article from Atlas Obscura, I give you:

Uncharted

In some wind of internet terrain,
A program waits, patient, bits
Ticking over.  The glass turns, algorithms wake-
Random bumps appear, are eroded;
Meticulous calculations churn for
Ninety seconds (geologic ages in server time),
And maps emerge- mountains looming over valleys,
Coastlines carved in with bays and capes,
Islands jewel-scattered across oceans.
All this done in hand-drawn style,
Fantasy-labeled with names hinting of
History and deep language, fit for the
Endpapers of novels.  An atlas
Building itself from water and topography
Every hour- and the rivers always reach the sea.

Hole in my heart

My mother died yesterday,
And there is a hole in my heart.
She was not an angel,
She was not a saint,
She was my Mom.
She was a good person, a good Mom.
She was smart, funny, kind, generous.
She loved me very much.
I loved her very much.
This has not changed.
She had a long life;
I think it was a good life.
Now she is gone from here,
And so there is a hole in my heart;
I do not know when it will heal.

J.A.E. 1934-2017
Hail the traveler!

Dealing with my Catholic past

A recent post by John Beckett got me thinking.  I was raised Catholic and it (and other aspects of Christianity) definitely did me some damage.  Although I’m fond of Western Ceremonial Magic as an area of study (and occasional LARP character background), it just doesn’t work for me… and a lot of that has to do with its explicit Christian groundwork.  I’m not much of a magician (and not into the ascension/transcendence/etc. aspects of Ceremonial Magic in general), so I don’t find that to be much of a hindrance.  On the other hand, a lot of hoodoo uses psalms and prayers, and that bugs me a bit (although it seems to work).

But I do have some Vodou lwa who walk with me, and a lot of them have Catholic saint imagery associated with them.  For many reasons, that doesn’t bother me.  Most sources that I have read are pretty clear that Vodouisants appropriated those images and reinterpreted them- because the images were easy to get, attractive and resonated with them as much as for camouflage from the Catholic church.  There’s not necessarily any identification or connection implied- e.g., St. Patrick is used as an image for Damballah because of the snakes in the image (amongst other things), not because Damballah and Patrick are in any way related.

Also, for me, the lwa themselves have often expressed a preference to me for those images. Erzulie Freda wants the image of Mater Dolorosa (the one with all the golden heart lockets) over Her shrine; Erzulie Dantor wants the Black Madonna of Czestochowa over Hers.  Others are less picky- Simbi Andezo prefers dragon and snake imagery, and the Gede like just about anything with skulls and such.  If it bugged me, I suppose I could work with them to find substitutes.

I guess the point here is magic is about what works for me.  Devotion is about what the Powers want, and how that resonates in our relationship.

Prayer to Sulis

Galina wrote me a beautiful prayer to Sulis. I wanted to concentrate on some of Her more neglected aspects- She was a goddess of healing who was also invoked in cursing, and had both cthonic and solar aspects… one of Her aspects for me is the Midnight Sun.

Gangleri's Grove

I occasionally write prayers on request. This prayer was written for H.E.:

Prayer to Sulis
By G. Krasskova

In ancient times,
You worked woe for Your devotees,
carrying curses forward
into the spinning tides of wyrd,
even as You brought healing to others.
You gave Your oracles
and kept Your counsel
and You kept the secrets
of those who came to You,
desperate, longing.
You keep our secrets still.

To those who come to You
for healing, for blessing, for care,
You are the Goddess of Healing Waters,
and Your touch restores,
removing illness, removing stain.
To those who have seen
into the depths of Your holy waters,
You are called by other names,
more potent, far more secret.

You are the Gateway to the Underworld,
and every shade must pass
through Your hands.
The touch of Your waters
restores the dead,
battered, broken by life,
to wholeness again.
You…

View original post 248 more words

She also rules hearth and home

I dream of the bones, risen ghosts
Flitting fitful from longer poems,
And wake to a more concrete set
Of tasks, still given by Her.
The heart-deep fires She commands
Are also hearth-warmers, and do not
Light themselves.  So, to, inspiration
Leads to a stropped blade, then the sting
Of onions chopped to sizzle, and lay
The ground for alchemy of oil and spice,
Meat and sauce. Her candle burns in the glass,
Casting a blessing glow on the pot
Bubbling slow, transforming, as water
Soap and scrubbing set right the aftermath.
Now only to wait, stir and taste, and let
The spell of sustenance unfold in time.

  • 1/22/17

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