When History Knocks at the Door

The Revolutionary Spirit is rising, igniting the fire in the hearts, bellies, and heads of every day Americans. The egregore of the Sons of Liberty is rising, feeding the rippling vibrations beneath our feet. Its power inspires us to do what we can to offer our voice to the chorus of the opposition. There is power in numbers. There is strength given when we band together. Truth is the way of the sword. Speaking truth to power fortifies our resolve, paving the way to end tyranny, villainy, and oppression. If you can and if you are ready, there is a place for you with the rising tide that stands up for what is right and true. We gladly welcome you.

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The Morrigan and the Power of Transformation

November. The month when we slip off the masks of revelry we share in October and dissolve into the liminal space and dying light. Kissed by the chilling winds that kick up, we begin to pull a little closer into ourselves. Perhaps we breathe a little slower, a little calmer. Opening the door to a place for rest, we find ourselves curling up within the comforts of our home. However, for many of us upon this crooked path, we know that there is much to do, much to explore. Yes, we will rest. We will also begin our long trek into our vast wildness within, seeking the parts of our soul that are still undiscovered or have been pushed aside. If we choose this path, we do not need to walk alone. As the cold winds of change blow, there is a presence that waits. She will make herself known when we are ready for her. However, it is up to us to answer that call.

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Layers Through Time

This blog completes the recent series I have been posting for you. While the first two pieces, “Giving Voice”, and “For Those Who Have Gone Before Us”, offered the history of the Brattleboro Retreat Tower, this article documents my hike up to the top of the hill. It may seem out of sequence, but it felt right this way. I hope it inspires you to explore your local history. Hopefully, we can dispel the fiction from reality to heal the scars that stretch across our communities together.

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Giving Voice

I have been trying to finish a blog about a particular location in Vermont that we went to recently. It is a place that holds a certain kind of history that quickly conjures images and emotions long before you arrive and captivates you once you enter its grounds. As I was writing, I realized it was becoming quite long, and I have been trying to figure out how to fix it for about a week now. I am not sure what can be cut. It is a place with many layers and stories to tell. This location deserves respect and I don’t want to just give it a few paragraphs and move on. Quick blurbs and soundbites flood our media. As a result, much of the story is lost or shrugged away, reduced to broad stroke summaries and assumptions charged with fear.

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Beginnings and Endings

The last few mornings have held such a silence. Maybe it is the cool, crisp air opening the gateway to autumn. Maybe it is the fading song of the crickets beneath the awakening sun that paints the coming of the morning in its golden light. Maybe it is the peace within myself that has been holding me as I awaken to another beginning. It is after all a new day, a new month, and the preparing to begin a new season. This morning I lit my candles and incense before whispering my morning devotionals aligning myself to a new day, just like any other day. However, today is different.

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Finding Our Connection

As we juggle many obligations in our daily lives, it is also important to allow ourselves to stretch out upon the earth. There is wisdom and nurturing that can take place when we allow ourselves to unfurl like the lush, fertile green rolling hills under a blue and sunny sky.

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Between the Darkest Depths and Sunniest Skies

Over the last few months, I have been feeling a push and a pull within me. For a time, I am offered space to feel the sun upon my face and the ocean’s spray upon my skin. Joy and excitement flow through me as long held dreams materialize before my eyes. It is like I am living a dream come true. I feel weightless and free. Everything within me rises to the surface to mingle with the sea and sky as my dreams take flight. It is beautiful and surreal all rolled into one gift that has no strings attached. As I smile with my eyes closed and face to the sun, the ocean waves consume me, dragging me down into the ocean’s dark depths. I am instantly carried down below my own waterline. Into the darkness I go; acceptance and silence my only guide.

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An Offering to Medusa

As long as I can remember, I have been working with a variety of gods and beings. The work that I do, both publicly and personally, calls upon myth and legend to find the threads that can be woven into our modern lives. Through this work, I have been able to find the strength, wisdom, and healing I need. Over the years, I have found that these stories contain important lessons. They were significant thousands of years ago and the themes still ring true today. Honestly, I feel that they are just as important now as we are all searching for understanding between ourselves and our world. By reaching into the pages of the past, we can find the seeds of wisdom and plant them in our own lives. We can find inspiration. We can see our own pain and trauma. We can recognize common themes and begin to chart a new way forward as we break old and tired patterns. As a witch, these stories are more than whispers from a time long ago.

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An Open Letter of Gratitude to the Points of Light in My Life

I remember sitting on my bed as a preteen, writing by the light of the street lights till all hours of the night. Page after page I would fill my notebooks with poetry, short stories, thoughts, and reflections. I would dream of the ways my life would unfold. A million different outcomes were created and…

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Layers of Lifetimes

There are moments when we dream of far-off places and of a time that has been long forgotten. Hazy pictures within our minds are painted. They create landscapes, uncover memories, and perhaps even pieces of ourselves are revealed as the mist dissipates. The fuzzy images become clearer as we emerge from the shadows, gathering strength through understanding. For some, this is the work of our journey. This is the work of our soul. This is the work of connecting the dots between our longing and with our unexpected de-ja-vu experiences. When we take the time to listen to what our body is telling us, what our soul is craving, we can give ourselves permission to take the step forward to feed ourselves with what we need. However, this can only happen if we choose to walk into the unknown and into that strange place of liminality between today, yesterday, and tomorrow. Like frosted breath on a window pane, we touch the boundaries between ourselves and what is calling to us.

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