Mistletoe

It's almost Yule and here in the US it means that there's mistletoe hanging in every department store and many homes.  In most places this means plastic mistletoe, but some folks go the extra mile and manage to find fresh mistletoe.  It's lovely and very festive.  It also means that there are some stores I just can't go in.  Yes folks, I do not like mistletoe or - more accurately - mistletoe does not like me.

A few years ago I was hanging out in a lovely cemetery in Medford, Or and as I walked into a particular area I felt an intense aversion to it - like something really didn't want me there.  I looked up and realized I was standing under a huge clump of mistletoe in an oak tree.  Then I noticed that all of the trees in that part of the cemetery were completely infested with mistletoe, while the area I had been in before was mistletoe free.

Mistletoe Berries Uk. Licensed under PD via Wikipedia.

I didn't think much about it until I was in another Southern Oregon and had a similar experience.  Apparently mistletoe and I do not get along.  Being near too much of it absolutely makes my skin crawl.  Something about its energy and mine are just antithetical. 

This rather bizarre phenomenon made me look up some of the history and lore surrounding mistletoe.  Mistletoe is sacred to Druids and is believed to protect against evil and death (as well as lightning and a few other things).  The most famous story associated with mistletoe is its involvement in the death of Baldur, the Norse god of beauty and light (in brief: Loki did it); but despite this it is still considered a largely beneficial plant in Norse mythology.  So why does it make me feel like it hates me? 

Well, I did find one bit of lore saying the mistletoe works as protection against baleful witchcraft.  Now, I don't make a practice of casting baleful magick but a lot of what I do is a bit...well..gunmetal grey if not black exactly.  So it's possible that mistletoe just doesn't get along well with shadow magick or maybe just my flavor of it.   Very weird.

Resources
http://sunchyldes.blogspot.com/2014/12/on-seventh-day-of-yule-mistletoe.html

http://www.thewhitegoddess.co.uk/articles/mythology_folklore/mistletoe.asp

http://www.witchipedia.com/herb:mistletoe

http://witchesandpagans.com/and-the-mistletoe.html

Yule Shadow Magick

It's that time of year again, Yule is fast approaching.  This year the moment of the Winter Solstice will be at 3:12am pst on Friday December 21st.  If I were a slightly more fastidious (or anal) Pagan I'd do my darndest to stay up and do ritual right at the moment of the Solstice.  However, I'm not, and I have to work on Friday.  So, instead I will do a bit of ritual at Sunset on the 20th (4:20pm) and a bit at Sunrise on the 21st (7:55am).

Yule is about rebirth.  It's about surviving and thriving during the darkest night and rekindling the fires of life and ushering in new light.  Given that shadow magick as whole deals with those themes, it is an ideal time to do a major working.  Yule is an excellent time to set major goals for the next year and imbue them with energy and intention.  Of course, to fully embrace the natural shadow of winter it's best to set your goal for a major change of habit or something that will force you to deal with things you've been avoiding.  If you want to succeed at shadow magick you can't be afraid to face unpleasantness.

My big goal for the coming year is to achieve more balance in my life.  I tend to do everything in the extreme.  I'll study a subject 12 hours a day for a month and then drop it forever; I'll go from sitting on my couch to trying to run an hour a day and injure myself; I'll do ritual three times a day for a few weeks and then barely light a candle for months.  I tend to be very "all or nothing" in the things I do, which isn't the healthiest of mindsets.  It just leads me to overdo things, overextend myself, and then end up physically and mentally burned out. 

I used to think this meant I was just a hard worker, but really it's a weird kind of obsession.  It's almost as if I'm hoping that each new obsession will be the magic bullet for my general malaise - that one thing that will make everything else fall into place and give me a lasting sense of purpose and fulfillment.  It's not actually a terribly healthy way to go about things and it's very difficult for me to admit that.  Shadow work is all about giving up false ego and embracing the truth.  It's very, very hard.  If it's not hard you're either doing it wrong or you're a bodhisattva.

At sunset on the 20th I'm going call on the Crone for help and light a black candle for banishment.  I'm going to write down a thorough description of my utter lack of balance and all the harm it does me.  I'm also going to write down the things that I used to think it brought me that it really doesn't.  Then I shall burn the paper and say, "My obsessive tendencies and lack of balance have failed me.  I have failed to be the person I want to be because of them.  As the light dies on this darkest night I release my grip on them.  I let go of attachments that do not serve me and let them fade with the dying sun.  I release my false ideas and open myself to something better.  May I find a better way of coping."

Then, at sunrise the next day I'll take a little "coffee break" at work.  I'll take a small cookie or candy and hold it in my hands and mentally say, "As  the light returns to the world I shall find my balance.  I shall find the path of moderation that will allow me to be whom I want to be and do what I want to do.  As the days lengthen I shall walk this new path of balance.  I shall be my best self, whole and complete, accepting and accepted, shadow and light entwined."  Then I'll eat my little, moderate treat and go about my day.

Reflections on the Winter Solstice

The whirlwind of family that is the holiday season is over.  Thank the Gods!  Don’t get me wrong, I love the holidays.  I love the lights and decorations, seeing family and friends, and the recognition of the turning of the wheel.  It’s just that it’s exhausting.  For me, the hardest part of the secular holiday season is the fact that all those gatherings make it really difficult to get quiet time for magick and reflection – hence these thoughts not being set down until a week after solstice.

This year the Winter Solstice happened to coincide with a full lunar eclipse.  I was fortunate enough to have the house to myself on the night of the 20^th and decided to do my Yule ritual then.  During that ritual I spent a fair amount of time meditating on the return of the light.  Traditionally, Yule is celebrated as the return of the light.  The longest night is filled with lights and feasting to drive out winter’s chill, with revellers safe in the knowledge that from then on each day would get a little longer until winter finally gave way to spring and summer.  However, I’ve always had a hard time thinking of Yule that way.

The Winter Solstice is the longest night of the year – about 16 hours of darkness here in the Pacific Northwest.  In the old Celtic calendar Yule was considered the middle of winter, but in modern times we call it the beginning of winter.  I’ve always tied my practices to the weather I actually experience so I’ve always considered Yule to be just about the beginning of winter.  Sure, we may get the occasional Thanksgiving snow storm, but in most years the weather here in Seattle is wet and chilly until the end of December and then it goes to wet and cold.  Yes, the days get longer after Yule, but they also get colder and a lot less pleasant.  Anyone who’s spent a long time waiting for the bus in the wind and rain on a really cold day knows the misery of which I speak.  So yeah, not so much mid-winter for me.

To make it more complicated, I also don’t see winter as something that needs to be driven away or something from which to hide.  As I mentioned before, I worship the Crone – this means winter is a time of power and profound spirituality for me.  When I feel the wolves of winter screaming across the skies I feel power.  When the skies are dark and the rain comes in constant sheets it isn’t time to run and hide, it’s time to stand up and let those rains cleanse you.  Winter is harsh and it brings death to the land, but without it there would be no rebirth in the spring.  The land needs time to rest, time for the autumn leaves to compost and make the ground fertile.

Like the land, we also need that time to rest and reflect.  That’s what Yule has always meant for me.  It’s a time to set yourself apart from the bustle of the everyday; to take a moment to really look at your life and to determine what you no longer need.  Yule is a time for banishing, a time to let that which no longer serves to die and fall away so that you’re actually ready for the new growth of spring when it comes.  It can be hard to look at yourself and admit what isn’t working, but it’s very necessary.

This year I took the time to look at myself and realized that I’m still trying too hard to fit other people’s ideas of what I should be.  No, I am not a ray of sunshine.  No, I will never voluntarily wear pink.  Yes, I was a bit goth in college and yes I practice some very dark and spooky stuff, but that does not mean that I look like an extra in The Crow.  To be frank, I’m a geek and I look like a geek.  I am happy looking like a geek; by choice I wear jeans and t-shirts.  Yes, the colors to tend towards black, red, and purple but that’s not that unusual.  I really don’t feel the need to proclaim my alignment literally on my shirtsleeves.  I like my witchyness to be subtle.  Yes, being flashy gets you noticed but that’s just not who I am.  I am going to wear what I want to wear and act the way I want to act because it makes me happy.  I don’t have anything to prove.

This year I also spent some time reflecting on the spiritual significance of the winter sun.  As I mentioned before, I have a hard time seeing Yule as the return of the sun because the weather is so crappy immediately after.  Even when the sun does shine in the dead of winter it doesn’t seem to warm – instead of having things be dark and miserable it just makes things bright and miserable.  (Yes, I venerate winter and the introspection it forces on us, but that doesn’t mean I enjoy cold, wet feet.)  However, amidst my musings I found a reason to be grateful to the winter sun.  At the winter solstice the earth is at its farthest point from the sun, after that it begins to travel back towards the sun, light, and warmth.  What would happen if it didn’t go back?  What if the earth didn’t tilt back and forth?  The side farthest from the sun would likely freeze and become uninhabitable and the side closest to the sun would burn away in an eternal summer.  The winter sun might not be as friendly as the spring sun, but it keeps us alive.  Thanks for keeping us all alive Apollo, don’t be a stranger.