Memoirs of a Voodoo Beach Bunny

For now, this account is going on an indefinite hiatus whilst I do some spring cleaning. Posts on witchcraft and writing will continue to be posted at asha_bellanar.

I've been re-reading the Witches subset of Terry Pratchett's Discworld series (and enjoying it immensely as usual). It must be showing as today I had a Granny Weatherwax moment in the car park.

What it is about semi-truck drivers that think they can be road hogs just because they're in a huge, gas guzzling machine is beyond me. Said driver had parked across two columns of spaces and most of one of the driving aisles, and decided that he was going to move forward after I had begun backing my car out of my parking space. I stopped in the middle of the aisle, turned round and stared at him. He blinked and crept forward an inch. I stared at him. He blinked. I stared. He blinked. The wheels on the semi began to move backward very slowly. I went on my merry way.

Clearly, I need to schedule in more re-readings this year *grins*.

The very word itself sparks magic ~ Druid.

Such visions it conjures: solemn processions of white-clad priests culling the mistletoe from the boughs of ancient oaks in the sacred groves; black-clad priestesses with limed hair and wild eyes screaming incantations at the invading legions of Rome paralysing them in terror such they had to be threatened with death to get them to move forward; mad hermits that lived far from men in the wilds; great mystics that were wise to the ways of nature, easily reading the cycles of seasonal time, oceanic tides, and the stars for the benefit of the community they lived in.

These visions we have, I'm sure, are based on the accounts of Druids that have been left behind in classical accounts. Like our visions, those accounts are also filled with contradictory statements regarding just what exactly the Druids were... and much like any thing in this world, I'm sure that there are grains of truth in each of the accountings of Druids.

Which is why, when pressed to answer the bug-a-boo question of "What religion are you?", I will always, quickly and easily, answer that I am a Druid. Granted this almost always leads to the follow up question of "You worship trees?", and this leads into discussions of what it means to revere all of nature and life. In some rare occasions, discussion leads to the topics of ethics and the idea of sin. In those cases, I love explaining that in my brand of Gaelic spirituality, sin is, simply, forgetfulness: forgetting that we are part of the Great Song of Creation, forgetting that the earth is a sacred place we've been entrusted to care for on behalf of ourselves and our children's children, forgetting that the Divine runs through our lives daily.

For me, the Druid's path allows me to remember to daily weave together body and soul into a vital integration of the inner worlds and the outer worlds. It is a way of living so that my body becomes enlivened with my soul so that I am able to perceive Divinity which permeates all things.

Druidry keeps me rooted in the earth so that my soul may soar amongst the stars.

Moon: Waxing Crescent (08% illumination), in Aries (7°)
Planetary Hour: Mercury

There are always timely reminders for us as we walk our paths. Some times they are guide stones that let us know we are still on the correct path. Some times they are cosmic clue-by-fours that warn us that we best get back on our correct path before things become much worse, and some times they are gentle reminders to help us correct our course before we reach cosmic clue-by-four territory.

My timely reminder came today. I know the totem animal I'll be working with through the upcoming months, both for my own benefit and the benefit of those closest and dearest to me.


I exist.
I have worth.
I give back.

~T. Thorn Coyle, The Virtue of Pride