Bringing Yule & Christmas Together

This year my sons are 9 and 11 and while they believe in the Spirit of the Season, their views of Santa Claus are more along the lines of a fond memory. So it comes to me to bring the spirit of faith and magic and mystery back to the season, however I can. And also whenever I can, blend the pagan with the mainstream. Thankfully, my mentor Lunaea Weatherstone presented me with the perfect material: the glorious, generous and joyful Holly King who represents peace and the Consort or Companion of the Goddess in his Green Man guise.

I described to my boys the image of the Holly King: barrel chested, wearing a cloak of red or green lined in white fur, barefooted with a crown of holly and icicles, and how he is depicted as the Ghost of Christmas Present in Charles Dickens' Christmas Carol: "Its dark brown curls were long and free; free as its genial face, its sparkling eye, its open hand, its cheery voice, its unconstrained demeanour, and its joyful air. Girded round its middle was an antique scabbard; but no sword was in it, and the ancient sheath was eaten up with rust."

I told them the story ancient peoples have shared with their children for hundreds of years: The Holly King rules during the months of the waning sun, lending his protection and jolly spirit as the days grow cold. At Yule the Holly King gives up his rule to the Oak King, who will reign during the days of growing Light. The Holly King gives up his post and his empty scabbard is akin to the Horn of Cornucopia, representing the abundance and generosity of Santa Claus.

I wrapped up my sharing by reading the 1897 original editorial letter in response to Virgina O'Hanolan's question, "Is there a Santa Claus?" Here is a wonderful excerpt.

"He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy... there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived could tear apart. Only faith, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real? Ah, Virginia, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding."

Protecting Your Witchy Rights

I may have mentioned before that I have only recently taken up my first job since 1995. I'm actually coming up to a year, but it's still so shocking to me that I work in a cubicle 15 hours a week that I think this must have just happened yesterday. So apparently in many work environments they subject employees to a three hour class on harassment and discrimination.

The idea of it made me just so frustrated - I mean, why can't people be kind, compassionate and responsible without having being taught, as adults, how to act in a social environment? But alas, as my agent says, I live in a faery world. Frankly I like it here in my little bubble of funky school for my kids, funky health food stores, funky indy bookshops, funky vintage clothing stores. I'm all about the funk.

So I decided if I was going to attend this workshop I would make it truly applicable to my life. When we went around and introduced ourselves, our position and what we hoped to gain from the class, I said, my name is Jamie. I'm the public relations writer and I'm here because I'm Wiccan and I want to know how well we're protected under the law.

You're what?

A witch.

Oh.

This is what I discovered:

Wicca is recognized by the government law as a religion and so falls in a legally protected category (with things such as race, gender, color, disability, age, sexual orientation).

Definition of harassment means verbal or physical conduct that is unwanted, unwelcome, undesirable or offensive. The conduct must be severe or pervasive (repeated) enough to create a hostile environment, from the perspective of a reasonable woman. (The law figures women understand harassment best).

Such discrimination could include being excluded or ostracized, which is what I’ve heard from most of my friends is the main reason they don’t come out of the broom closet at work. Discrimination could include spreading rumors, impending or blocking movement, unwanted jokes about witches flying to work on a broom or Eye of Newt potions or any of the degrading and relentless unkind comments that ignorant people utter about our funky witchy life. (It is equivalent to sexist or racist jokes). Is one objectionable comment or action enough? No. You must give the offending person notice. A warning could be verbal or nonverbal, such as changing the subject or walking away in apparent discomfort. You could remind them that Wicca is protected under the law and you find such comments offensive. In fact, even if you weren’t Wiccan, it would be your responsibility to say something. Is two warnings enough? Maybe. At this point it would behoove you to report the unwelcome behavior to your boss, who by law must protect your religious freedom or risk consequences for him or herself, in addition to the company. By the third incident of harassment or discrimination, you've got yourself a case strong enough to stop the unwanted actions for good.

The goal is to create more peaceful not hostile environments. I am not suggesting that we go about suing our bosses or our companies. I am a firm believer of the law of attraction (what you focus on grows - so believe me I'll eventually get off this rant) and personal responsibility (I get that from being double Capricorn - ain't like a double cappuccino, which only makes you hyper). I don’t want to fight for my rights. I just want a clear, safe road where I can be true to the purest expression of me. No need to struggle when life can just flow to you. So for those who are ready, I just wanted to let you know, it’s safe to wear the pentacle to work. It’s safe (albeit a tiny scary) to educate rather than hide. Believe me, “they” are starving for our wisdom. We’ve got protection now that we didn’t have before. It’s a little like a buxom secretary in the 50’s thinking, really, it’s okay to say I don’t like that? Really? It’s okay. Really and truly, Betty Ann, really and truly.

And yes, on that personal note, the instructor of the class is looking into the books for me regarding the incident with the school. In the meantime, I visualize educational institutions that seek to open their doors to the unknown for the gems waiting to come to the light. And I visualize myself as that light bringer, the way shower, so that I may spread this joy of creating, always creating, with everyone.

Twillight

Some people talk or write about magic as if.... As if it was a fantasy world. As if the twilight weren't the Realm of All
Things Possible.

Or maybe they know it's real... I'm not sure.. I proudly display my "Blending in With You Muggles" bumper sticker and wonder who knows that I'm serious. I live in the world of magic for 24 hours (whether awake or asleep) and it's freaky on most days, beautiful on some and downright scary on others.

You try on taking a school board, possibly all the way to the ACLU, to defend your right to present a fiction book you've written, that has been denied just because you've written books on being a witch. The crazy thing is that I've written that book for those very kids whose world is so restricted they've been forced to forget they have the power. And I pledged I would fight for them.

To introduce empowerment to the mainstream world, I must first present myself. And it's odd for me to be the mundane world. Honestly. It's really wierd. I've been an artist for 12 years. I've not hard to deal with the fear that seems to consume most of America. I'm not exposed to incessant gossip of People Magazine, etc. when I shop, because I'm getting my goods at Trader Joe's or the local farmer's market or the local health food store. I was raised Christian Science and so never acquired the taste for Western medicine. I make my own healing remedies or see an auryvedic doctor when necessary. I feel confident in my ability to heal myself and I'm not distracted by reading the latest distastrous report on childhood illnesses by Newsweek when I'm waiting for my sons to see the pediatrician. And yet I have compassion for others who are sensitive to this fear - or at least I'm working on it. Om.

As of late, I took on my first job in 12 years and now I have to attend a preventative discrimination/harassment workshop (that's on Dec. 4 and I swear I'm wearing a Pent and seeing what "they" really have to say about it). That seems so odd to me that I have to attend a 3 hour workshop on how to deal with discrimination: I've been smelling the scent of my burning hair and flesh since I first wrote The Wicca Cookbook, and particularly since I printed it, and harrassment - at the core of most of my writings I've trying to understand what it means to be sexually damaged. What are they going to teach me? I hope something amazing. I wonder.
I have had years of experiential experience. Very soon after The Wicca Cookbook was published I moved with my friend and kids to a neighborhood that turned out to be KKK infested. It was like trying to rid a playground of rats. Oh wait, that's exactly what it was like.

So I did crazy stuff. I had a crescent moon carved into my side gate. I told every teen in sight that I was the local witch (Mexican to boot) and if those punks wanted to violate my children's playground, that they were going to have to deal with me. Then I made batch after batch of chocolate chip cookies, plum jam, and lavender lemonade. Yum. I painted my walls with giant goddesses and a far-reaching sun. I held siances and tamale rolling parties. I carved out a sprial in my backyard and planted California wildflowers in the spiraling ditch then I set an Goddess of Compassion altar at the center. I held my most fave ritual explaining to teen boys what their magic animal totem was. I poured my menses blood on herbs that I used to cook pasta dishes, I brought home a crow carcass that disapeared into the corner where I had buried the coyote medicine. I cared for hawks, rabbits, opposom, cats, orange trees, lemon trees, peach trees, plum trees. I saved the trunk of the Yule tree to be the Beltane May Pole.

True story. Life is intense when you are a witch. Life is one pertual twillight - when all things are possible.

But when it comes right down to it... I can't deny, I love being a witch and I'm tired of being scared about what you think of it.

The Season of the Witch

Followers of the ancient earth practices are used to dealing with prejudice. The frequency of how often we’re misunderstood and judged makes you familiar with the blows and the smell of burning hair, but it’s never comfortable. You get used someone deciding they know all about you and your religion when they’ve never cracked open a book on the subject or been to a solstice ritual. They might see a band of witches hugging trees, picking up trash, tending a community garden, weeding in a nature preserve and never realize that what we’re doing is sacred and part of our spiritual practice. For some it’s just that a spiritual practice and not even a religion per se. There can be Catholic witches, Buddhist witches, even Christian witches. And yet despite the fact that Wicca is a government-protected religion, we still run the risk of losing jobs and being ostracized. Someone told me yesterday, “It’s not an issue of religious persecution or discrimination to them, but an issue of morality.” When did taking care of nature become immoral? Just because we aspire to the Sun God doesn't mean we should ignore Mother Earth.

Let me give it to your straight.

Witches Heal. Witches Love. Witches are often the most kind-hearted, patient, courageous, responsible, accountable, accepting, open-minded, consciously aware people you’ll find. Bang. That’s the truth.

We work with nature as the most obvious connection to God and the loving spirit that lives and breathes in each one of us. Our most powerful potions are herbal remedies for healing the physical body, sometimes the emotional and spiritual body as well. But if we’ve been hurt and come out to protect ourselves against discrimination that prohibits employment or obstructs our ability to be with our children, we will only confirm the horrific, demonic vision they have of witches. Like “Savage Indians.” Only now, we understand how peaceful native people are – so much in fact that scores of white people sit at the knees of indigenous elders to learn their wisdom. But we witches must be patient. Our time has not come – yet. It’s like Orson Wells’ radio broadcast War of the Worlds and everybody believes the propaganda. We know that if we threw balls of fury we will only confirm their fears – even if we gathered those fire balls from the stake where they set us on fire.

I must say that I tire of pandering to their fears and ignorance. I wonder that if I keep at this public forum of education and take the hits, am I really helping anyone? When the local school district says I can’t come to the school and talk to students about being a writer (not a Wiccan but a writer) because I’m a witch and I’ve written books on Wicca and that would be too controversial, I can’t help but get exhausted from standing firm while the obtuse but powerful Goliath tries to knock me down. Before they even met me, they know me. And I don’t get to be an example of success, power, self-confidence or light to the kids who love to write, who yearn for a life that follows their dreams, who would relate to my story of self-esteem or belonging, or even the ostracized young witches hiding in their midst. Do I continue to stand because I can? Or can I retreat into the darkness of winter? Is it not smarter to leave a popcorn trail for the curious and trust they’ll find me when they have the courage to fight the tide of the prejudice moral right? Perhaps. To be a witch is to know and respect your limits.

We witches know when it’s time to go inside. And that time is now. It’s winter. Hallows is here. Witches know to tap into the reservoir of strength and endurance of Mother Earth. By our example we cannot help but teach, if only because we hold the secrets of healing and the connection to Mother Earth that we all need. It is our love for Her and Her love for us, that sustains us. It is those midnight dances with like-minded friends, the celebrations of harvest, the sharing tales of serendipity as evidence of magick that nourish and support us. We ride the seasons and as long as we spend more time enjoying the ride than focusing on others’ fear of our power and ability to trust nature, we will feel the bliss of connection to All That Is.

To be a witch in the season of Hallows – a very sacred time of year – is to feel the electricity in the air. It is the twilight of the year, a time when the vibrant, growing season of summer and light gives way to quiet of winter dark and rest. It is a time of transition, a time of intense energy and illimitable possibilities. It is the time of year when spirits visit to show us the realm of deep magick that points to a profound relationship with all things, people and situations, while drawing out the purest, best, and biggest in you. It is the time of year to be quiet and enjoy your own company. It is a time of year to face your fears, to dance with them, to invite them into tea, hear them speak, then firmly release them like compost in the garden, to become something new and more life-giving next spring.

To be in tuned with the season of the dark times, means you ask for help and find the answers within. It means you know we have come to the time of year to shed old habits and face fears, to dance with them, to invite them into tea, hear them speak, then firmly release them like compost in the garden, so they can become something new and more life-giving next spring. It means to not be afraid of other powerful or peaceful people but to see your sisters and brothers in their eyes and embrace them. It means you know how powerful you are and don’t care who sees it.

Asleep on a Bicycle

A long time ago I made the wish that many of my friends would be artists - in some capacity they would live by and for the muse that moves through them. I hoped that the friends that made up this artist tribe would be diverse in their expression of art - some painters, some crafts(wo)men, some actors, some writers, some musicians. I felt certain that we would have emotionally intelligent conversations about the creation process - about being a vessel that allows parts of ourselves and our stories to be used for the art and also about the release of ego that allows for the understanding that we are only the messagers of the muse that is moving through us. I felt that only people who lived this cyclical life of release and ownership would understand the roller coaster ride. And I really wanted a tribe that understood why I would choose such a life of highs and lows - how there really is no option for me to work that 9-5er in a cubicle. I used to think it was because we could bond over the elation of being creative, but it's more that we understand the dedication (and perhaps its the Virgo in me, but the servitude) to art, to expression and creation.

FaerieCon was one opportunity to bond with other creative souls. It was the beginning of the realization that I had manifested a desire. Another experience of this dream come true, was in watching my friend Gina Garrison star in the play Asleep on a Bicycle in LA last night. Chosen as an LA Times Critics Pick, this is the most amazing and evocative play out of a tiny little theater on the corner of Vine and Santa Monica Blvd. It was absolutely awe-inspiring to watch a friend live out her dream and be sooo good at it. I know what this mother of two has given up to drive from OC to LA for rehearsals. And was it worth it? Yes! She was brilliant. I laughed and cried all the way through the play. I was so proud of her. I suppose its what my friends think when they watch me at a book signing. And to think that I never let their happiness for me sink in. I know I haven't because I know I've never felt that elation from others, even though they have spoken words similar to the words I used to praise Gina.

Now I know that I have my tribe of artists and we "get" each other. I also have support - the ones who love to see me be that spark in the world. And together we make art, we make beauty and we shine.

A Tribe of Faeries

FaerieCon is a convention of fantasy, folklore, myth, magic, and of course, faeries. It’s held in downtown Philadelphia – the heart of America’s genesis as a free nation – amongst the tall, intricately carved buildings guarded by gargoyles and images of founding fathers. Having raised the power of magick and light in our homes and festivals across the country, we descend upon the concrete jungle with glitter and faerie dust to send waves of magick, possibility, mysticism and fae energy to emanate from this epicenter. Usually faeries are associated with nature and not often considered to be at home in an urban setting. But what better place to bring the sensuality of toes in the dirt, the caress of soft breezes or a trickling stream than to the birthplace of one of the world’s modern powers? Surrounded by the Liberty Bell, Betsy Ross’ Home, Ben Franklin’s gravesite, the courage and independence to find freedom is exactly what the fae folk need to help us connect more deeply with Mother Nature, each other, and ourselves.

The costumes are amazing, the creativity inspiring and the camaraderie most inviting. While at the Good and Bad Faerie Balls, I hung out with my long time fae sister, Lisa Steinke, and met new fae friends such as Giovanna Adams, Susan Schroeder, Kelly Miller Lopez and Jessica Galbreth, as well as Sarah and Jane, whose last names elude me. Faery festivals can zap the mind while invoking playful ire into every corner.

You must be willing to let go of all expectations when you go to a faerie festival, convention or gathering. This has traditionally been difficult for me. I’m a writer after all with an overactive imagination who plans out everything in minute and perfect detail. But despite all my careful visualization work, the law is that you never know what kind of energy you’ll get, whether playful and light-hearted or deep and soul-searching. The blessing is that with each faerie event, I grow less and less attached to my expectations. Perhaps I’m learning that even though it may not be what I planned, when producers Kelly, Emilio and Robert invoke the faeries, magick arises that is quite healing and profound.

Being around so many people who believe in magick and fantasy is so comforting. To be surrounded by your tribe empowers and emblazons you to stand in your light and shine all your unique and most beautiful power. This conference and its sister FaerieWorlds in Eugene, Oregon enfolds you around others who seek profound connection with the elements, the spirit of Mother Earth and the healing that comes with deep, reverent relation with nature and each other.

So are you gonna come play with me or what?

Playful Magic

Today at Pagan Pride in Los Angeles I spoke about the role of play in magic and ritual. It seems to me we've come to a place where we've taken magic and made it be something confined with rules on how you can do something right or wrong. Magic doesn't only happen when you follow proper ritual rules. The intention of all magic is to create and manifest desires. So when did that become something uptight? How can the spirit enter through a closed mind?

I live a free-spirited life, no matter how I may try to fly under the radar, I can't manage to extricate myself from my gypsy sense - the wanderlust butterfly. Though I've tried to be serious and hold firm to rules, primarily to not feel separate from the rest of the world, most societal laws get tossed aside so that I can truly let the Muse, Light, God, Goddess, Spirit breathe through me and fuel my unique expression. And what I've found is this freedom is what inspires myself and others - and actually underlines my belonging.

Somebody commented today that it was wonderful to hear a speaker talk about their personal experiences. Honestly, I know no other way to relate to others than to share my stories - the goofier the better I say. One of the things I shared about today was how immediately after I signed the contract to write Rogelia's House of Magic I got in a car accident. (Unfortunately in my life I have found car disasters an excellent way of managing my life.) As I was walking to the bus stop I found a monarch butterfly that had just died. I carefully tucked away this little totem. The magic was already tingling in my toes because not only is Butterfly part of my spiritual name, the medicine of this winged creature was also used for a major lesson in the novel. Several months later, the cover art for Rogelia's House of Magic arrived on my doorstep. I was struck by the similarity of shape of the butterfly art with the butterfly now on my altar.

I scooped the butterfly and carefully placed the fragile wings over the cover. It was a perfect match. See for yourself (picture above - compare it to the image of the cover in the right column of this blog). This is magic to me - laughter, connection, feeling power surge in me and lift my spirits high.

You are the magic. Every ritual you do, every candle you light or chant you speak is all an elaborate form of playing with the divinity already with you. These symbols are merely there to help you get into the mood or vibration of what you want to attract. The magic is in you. The four elements live in you - earth-body, water-blood, air-breath, fire-energy - not just outside of you. One of my teachers said if you were on a deserted island, could you do magic? As long as you believe. As long as you listen to nature and listen to yourself, the answer will always be yes!