Adventures at Pantheacon: Day 3

Sunday I went solo to PantheaCon, weathering the pouring rain as best possible, Astarius cranked on the CD player. Dressed today in rich velvets and sumptuous silks, I felt quite sparkly in my gypsy skirt covered in gold sequins, my anklet tinkling silver bells, glitter on my cheeks & bindi's aplenty on my third eye (Bindi there! Done that!). Indeed, the whole conference was fully bejeweled, bespangled and bedazzling. If you have ever been to a Renaissance Faire, you know what a lusty, corset filled experience it can be, and imagine that energy further stuffed into an overflowing hotel setting. Simply scrumptious.

I missed my intended workshop on Wild Women Chant for Peace with Z Budepest by a few minutes, as my inner chant for coffee took precedence. The ritual was closed by the time I reached the ballroom, so I decided to randomly enter one of the other workshops in progress.

I slipped in to Pan: The God of All being hosted by Jason Mankey. Good lourdes, could this man be any more attractive? Thick blond, shoulder length hair, the kind you just want to entwine your fingers in; Sparkly blue eyes, mischievous as he dryly delivered yet another phallic joke; self confidence radiating from his entire being in the most relaxed, sexy and natural way. I was simply intoxicated.

Forty minutes of deep fantasy ensued while not paying the least attention to what he was saying, finally some of the words began to sink in. "Pan is the god of anti-monogamy, the god of anti-marriage. Pan is the god of the bar hook up - Let's just say he ain't no Aphrodite with flowers and poems." What on earth was I doing here? I slipped out early, feeling like a recovered addict who had just been offered heroin. Luckily Pan is also the god of masturbation, and certainly Jason gave me plenty of fantasy fodder for the following week.

Donald Michael Kraig hosted a workshop on Experiencing Your Past Lives. He first lectured on hypnosis, leading the audience through several exercises to experience trance, including a count down to a past life experience with a message relevant to today. I thought about all the stomach problems I have had this year, and set the intention to discover the deeper cause.

"And when I reach zero, you will be aware of your surroundings. Start by looking at your shoes..." I looked down at the coarsely stitched brown leather that had passed as my shoes for years. I was aware of vivid green grass, grey stones covered with paler green lichen, the feeling of a cow's warm side, the fact that it was the year 800 in a borderland between France & Belgium. I lived a simple life, making cheeses, laid out on wood slabs, needing to be turned each day, slowly ripening for market. "Now imagine it's the day before your death, and allow an important message to come through..."

Unfortunately, there was a miscommunication about timing and the experience was cut short just when we got to the really juicy part, and I left feeling incomplete. Luckily I'm a certified hypnotherapist myself, and later that night I found it easy to slip into trance and really flush out the details of my experience.

I'm in a tavern, arguing with the inn keeper. I see a bone handled knife, very clearly. I see an abdomen, cut open, slippery guts sliding out - I don't know if it's the tavern keepers' or my own. Later I am with my husband in our hut with no windows, just a hole in the ceiling for the smoke from the fire to escape. It is our last moment together, and I know I have made the right choices.

The two messages I receive are crystal clear: Stop waiting for other's to commit. It is up to me to make the commitment. And so simple, so profound: Trust your gut instincts.

Blessed Be.

Adventures at PantheaCon: Day 2

On Saturday we were smart enough to stop at The Buttery before venturing off for further adventures at PantheaCon. The food at The Double Tree Hotel is not only hideously expensive, but veritably unpalatable as well, especially for kids. We loaded up our bags with avocado sandwiches, boiled eggs and organic pop tarts, little cheeses and bottles of water, excitedly venturing forth over the hill once again.

Once at the conference, the kids took off to play on the elevators and collect ribbons for a treasure hunt. I went to my various workshops and we would meet at a strategic meeting point at various times during the day. On my way to our mid afternoon check in, I got a frantic text:"Snakes at the Con! Meet at elevators!" And indeed, four boa constrictors (including an albino beauty) were wrapped around their various owners, tasting the air with quick lisps.

The highlight of the day for me was The Sacred Body of Woman, a self blessing ritual by Z Budapest. From the program: "This skyclad ritual honors the body of every woman present, the beauty and grace of the feminine form in all her infinite variety. Allow yourself to be embraced by the glorious love of your sisters, with voices raised in sacred song in this central ritual of the Dianic Tradition."

I came to the conference with the intention to rededicate myself to the goddess, and in the moment I felt like I had come home. Here was my tribe, my community, my elders and my daughters. I positioned myself midway in the circle, knowing from times past that I would lose my voice at first, but would regain it as we began to build power. We sang the same chant over and over, as each woman stepped up to bless herself before a mirror, herself the goddess reflected.

As I looked around the room at over sixty women present, I was filled with a deep respect for my own body. When it was my turn before the mirror, I held my own gaze, touching the consecrated wine to my lips, my breasts, my knees. I became the observer, looking down upon myself, and marveled at the strength and flexibility in my 42 year old body. My skin is smooth and supple, and while I dye the grey out of my hair, it is thick and lustrous. I felt so grateful for all the good organic foods I have eaten, all the Zumba I have danced, all the good choices I have made, for keeping me strong, sexy, fit and healthy. I left feeling beautiful and awake, rejuvenated and invigorated, energized and fully alive. All I can say is: Blessed Be.

Adventures at PantheaCon: Day 1

I spent the long weekend attending PantheaCon, one of the largest Pagan gatherings around, held at The Double Tree Hotel in San Jose and hosted by Ancient Ways. Four days of workshops, lectures, rituals, circles and celebrations, attended this year by close to 2,500 folks, fairies, witches & warlocks, not to mention the druids, dryads, nymphs and trolls, but I digress...

Each day poured down rain as I left Santa Cruz, and coming over the mountain on 17 through the fogs began the feeling of moving between the veils of the worlds. On the way to the summit is a large friendly sign with "Jesus Loves You" painted in scrawly letters. "Look, Mom," quips my teenager, "Jesus can be your Valentine for the weekend." This from a girl in love with a boy who sparkles.

I went to two workshops with Mary Greer, the first was 21 Ways to Read a Tarot Card. I pulled VI: The Lovers while my impromptu lab partner, Fedelia, pulled XIX: The Sun. We took turns talking and listening, sharing our hearts and sharing our stories. Luckily there always seemed to be a box of the sacred kleenex around.

The next day Mary gave a great presentation on A Hundred Years of Secrets in the Waite-Smith Tarot which included some members of the audience channelling Pamela Coleman Smith and Arthur Waite. I certainly had an intense visualization of how it must of been for them to work in collaboration and remembered some of my own lessons in co-operation and the fine art of compromise.

Almost twenty years ago now, I hand colored my set of The Daughters of The Moon Tarot Deck, which took me almost four years to complete. I enjoyed the process so much, I started a second set for my partner, whose hands shook from a nervous disorder. We worked together on creating a set - She would pick the colors and I would do the painting. It was a long, interesting exercise in communication for both of us: for example, in some random card I thought the sky should be blue - she would want a purple, orange, red sunset. I had to really listen and see through new eyes. Later I found myself somehow jealous of "her" cards, as the colors were more vivid, and my skills had increased, so they were "better". Ah, the never ending ego...

Thoughts on Moomin Trolls

My mother is Swedish & I grew up reading all of Tove Jansson's Moomin troll books. According to the Wikipedia: "They are a family of trolls who are white, round and furry in appearance, with large snouts... The carefree and adventurous family live in their house in Moominvalley, in the forests of Finland... They have many adventures along with their various friends, who are each of various fictional species." This included the Mymbles, the Hattifatteners, and my personal favorite, The Snork Maiden.


Now that it is February, I face my longest month of the year due to SAD. Hey, I'd rather be depressed for 28 days of the year than 365, and it usually doesn't hit hard until mid-month, so I'm setting up my ducks now.

I think about the Moomins who would fill their bellies with pine needles and hibernate through the long Nordic winter. I fill mine with St. John's Wort and organic poptarts, steamed spinach and smoked salmon. I hunker down by the woodstove, feeling extremely grateful for the companionship of my housemate and all four cats, each of us curled into our personal ball of introspection. I notice that my current clients all reflect the need for withdrawal (8 of Cups), the need to retreat, renew & rejuvenate after drinking from the cup of disappointment.

I know California needs rain, but each sunny day feels like a reprieve, and I sit in the pale winter light trying to recharge my photoelectric batteries stored behind my third eye, the oh so important pineal gland. I notice I am sleeping a lot (10-12 hours a night) and have just given up completely trying to go out in the evenings. I count the days and mark off the calendar like a prisoner trying to reach parole.

5 down, 23 to go...

Brigid

New Moon in Aquarius

Happy Chinese New Year: Year of the Ox

Today's ritual:

I went to a baby shower for a friend last fall, and one of the hostess gifts was a packet of seeds - Sweet peas in Cupid Pink, to be exact. They have been sitting in a dish on one of the around the house altars for awhile, gathering energy, if not dust. Fairy dust, of course.

Sun and New Moon are conjunct in Aquarius today, thus begins the Chinese New Year, Year of the Ox. The Ox, like Taurus the Bull, is a tenacious & thorough beast, gentle, patient, strong & full of determination (Obama is a Metal Ox). Tapping into this energy, I cupped my hands around the seeds and began a prayer:

Let these be
The Seeds of Change
The Seeds of Peace
The Seeds of Love
The Seeds of Hope
(and everyone's favorite)
Seed Money
Now...
Blessed Be.

I then proceeded to plant five seeds in each of my Feng Shui power stations, starting in Child/Creativity, perfect for this is also the time of Brigid, Goddess of Inspiration. I take a moment to pull out some weeds, my negative thoughts, creating space for new life to grow.

I moved on to Helpful People. This corner of my yard touches my neighbor Jim, who has always been helpful to me. May I be helpful in return. I might not be able to do anything about the war in the Middle East, but I can reach out to my immediate neighbor. May the seeds of peace flourish between us.

I planted the five seeds in containers on my front deck & along my front path for Career/Lifepath, reflecting upon both the limits of the vessel for growth and the ease to nurture & tend to those seeds as a result, and how to apply to my own profession now.

The Self-Knowledge corner kisses my other neighbor's Helpful People spot. A rambling rose grows from my yard, through and along the fence, into their yard. Let my wisdom be helpful, rambling rose that I am.

I move to the backyard, along the fence which hosts Family/Ancestors, and before pushing each round seed into the dark moist earth, I take a moment to say each my grandparent's names, and my dearest Aunt who still lives in Italy, inspiring me with her adventuresome travels despite going blind.

Moving into Power/Wealth, the prayer seems more potent. I plant the seeds in between the Sweet William & the Primula (my little winter cabbages, as I like to think of them), which are looking quite perky after the recent rains, deep fuscia & burgundy blossoms with a touch of yellow at the center. I name my five intentions for my business, visualizing their growth over the next year.

By now the cats have noticed I'm in the yard, and have abandoned the gopher posts to assist me in circumnavigating the garden. I take the time to pet & pamper my sweet familiars, right there in Fame/Reputation. There is no doubt I will always be known as a cat lover...

I reach Love/Union/Marriage. I audibly sigh as I reflect upon all the good work I have done in this power spot. It has been more than nine months since I last had any interest in a partnership, let alone dating & mating, and I find myself rededicating myself to my lost goddess, Aphrodite. I am ready to love again. I chuckle to myself as I contemplate watering & nourishing my beloved seeds - here's one place maybe I do need some Miracle Grow.

Let these be
The Seeds of Change
The Seeds of Peace
The Seeds of Love
The Seeds of Hope
and Seed Money...

I complete my circle, I come to the center, and find myself in a patch of pale winter sunlight, the dark rain clouds laughing in the background. It is Lunar Imbolc - 6 weeks from Solstice, six weeks til Equinox. I am this sharp edge of shifting light, and I find myself laughing - laughing with delight.

May all your heartfelt wishes blossom.

Blessed Be.

Letter from Joanna Macy

October 27, 2008

Dear People,

Well, it's happened. The financial meltdown so long predicted has begun for real. Even if we knew it had to happen, it's scary. Stock markets crashing, foreclosures skyrocketing, the biggest banks going belly up, jobs disappearing. With so much suffering for so many, and more losses foretold, it's hard not to feel the panic.

I'm scared of what that panic will do to our country--corroding our trust in each other and in the future, when we need it for the Great Turning. At moments I feel fear about my own life, wondering what it will mean for Fran's and my work for the world, if the cushion of savings he's so carefully husbanded evaporates.

So I am grateful for teachers who, at just the right moment, remind me to hold a larger perspective. Here are three who have been of particular help: Minqi Li, Robert Reich, and Granny D.

Minqi Li is economics professor at University of Utah. He shook me awake to the realization that this economic collapse, far worse than anything since 1929, is what life on this planet needs for the survival of complex life-forms. He says that in order to cut greenhouse gas emissions sufficiently to avoid irreversible climate disaster, "the world economy must contract at a historically rapid clip--at an annual rate of -1 to -3.4 % between now and 2050…. Economic growth will have to be thrown into reverse."

The retrenchment he sees as necessary is about 55% over a span of 40 years; that is what occurred over four years in the Great Depression. As Stan Cox of AlterNet points out, everything depends on how the economic contraction is handled. If chaotic efforts are made to restore capital accumulation, life on Earth will continue to deteriorate. To cure the malignant economic growth that we've unleashed, new ways of thinking and acting must come from the bottom up and from both hemispheres of this ailing planet. The turbulent times that lie ahead may offer the opening we've been waiting for.

According to Robert Reich, Secretary of Labor under Clinton, the "deep recession" he foresees is the direct result of the economic inequality we've created. His analysis suggests that this economic failure is the price of moral failure.

The top 1 percent of American earners take home about 20 percent of total national income. Reich says the last time that happened was 1928; after that the economy caved in. "The wealthy," he reflects, "devote a smaller percentage of their earnings to buying things than the rest of us because, after all, they're rich and already have most of what they want. Instead of buying, they're more likely to invest their earnings wherever around the world they can get the highest return… The underlying problem of such imbalance in earnings has been masked for years: first by sending more women into the work force, till working mothers with school-age children almost doubled since 1970, to more than 70 percent. The second coping mechanism was working more hours, till Americans became veritable workaholics, putting in 350 more hours a year than the average European. Then came a third way of coping: to borrow... But now with the bursting of the housing bubble, we've reached the end of our ability to borrow, just as lenders have reached the end of their capacity to lend. That means there's not enough purchasing power in the economy to buy all the goods and services it's producing.

"We're finally reaping the whirlwind of widening inequality and ever more concentrated wealth… The long-term answer is for America to invest in its working people--health insurance, good schools and higher education, while also investing in the clean-energy technologies of the future, and adopting progressive taxes at federal, state and local levels. Call it bottom-up economics. It would be a sad irony of the Wall Street bailout robs us of the resources we need in order to do that."

Nine years ago at the age of 90, Doris Haddock, known as Granny D, walked 3,200 miles across the country to promote limits to corporate rule. Two weeks ago in Philadelphia, she shared her memories of the Great Depression and urged us to stop viewing it as a time of horror.

"Maybe we were hungry sometimes, but did we starve? No, because we had our friends and family and the earth to sustain us. Our memories of that time are more round and golden than sharp-edged. My husband Jim made an ice rink from a little meadow, and he made a few dollars extra those winters of the Depression. I learned to put on one-woman plays and performed in women's clubs here and there, making the rest of what we needed. We were fountains of creativity. We were fountains of friendship to our neighbors. As a nation, we were a mighty river of mutual support."

Read on. Granny D's words are such wonderful medicine for us all right now that I'll not interrupt her till I sign off.

"Imagination! Let me suggest that a generation raised on books and storytelling, where one's own imagination had to fill in the colors and details, made us a generation quite able to imagine marvelous ways to fill our family dinner table in those years. Let me suggest that the power of imagination was essential to the rise of all the grand improvements we achieved for each other and called our New Deal. Imagination allows the citizen and the politician to connect with people of every situation and condition.

"The foundation of right-wing politics is a grand absence of imagination. If you cannot imagine what people need until it happens to you, then I suggest you have never read a mystery book under your covers by flashlight…

"I want to tell you - especially if you are young and have not experienced true hard times - that there is nothing much to it, if you will insist on creatively and ferociously loving the friends and neighbors around you. And fifty or seventy years from now, if you are blessed with a long life, you will count those years as being some of your best, as indeed I do…

"Fear for the loss of material things is but the jitters of an addict, and the jitters go away once we relax into whatever new world we find ourselves come into…

"If you own stocks, you own a small percentage of the nation's economy. It's like owning a family business. Some years your shares will be worth a lot, some years they will not. But they are your piece of the action and you should hold onto it. You might even use the current low prices as an opportunity to increase your share of the pie.

"Our real challenge is not the disaster caused by the deregulation of Wall Street, for which my friend Senator McCain must answer, but instead it is the dislocations -- economic, food supply, coastline and weather dislocations -- caused by our continued use of fossil fuels and the resulting warming of our atmosphere that is our real emergency and the true challenge for our character.

"And I want you to understand that you must see beyond the distraction of these present headlines to the true challenges ahead, which have little to do with Wall Street and everything to do with changing the very ways we live, so that intelligent life on earth might prosper and survive."

Amen!

Yours in glad solidarity,

Joanna