wicca201

So, since this is a specific kind of journal, maybe I should tell you a little bit more about my specific background, at least in regards to Wicca.  I should, but not yet.  I just have to tell this story first. 

I'm a foster care social worker, and as such, my hours can change with the wind.  Late one night, early another morning, very rarely do I work the 8:30A-4:30P that was in my job description.  Lately I haven't seen the sun when I've come home from work, and my poor dog, David John, has gotten the shaft when it comes to his evening walk.  After dark, the park is not safe, nor navigable, and we have to stick to the sidewalks with streetlamps in the neighborhood.  Today, however, was different.  One of my beloved babies (ok, he's 14, but he's such a cutie) ALLEGEDLY committed a crime a few months back (not MY baby) and this morning his arraignment was scheduled for an ungodly hour.  This meant I had to pick him up at an even more ungodly hour.  Though I cursed the darkness when I left the house, I was able to flex some time and come home early.  David John and I could go for a walk in the park before the sun set! 

As I left the house with the dog, I noticed the new 2007 Forest Farm catalog had arrived in the mail and was excited as this often heralds the start of planning for my spring planting.  As soon as we entered the park however, I was less sure that spring was here.  Here in Baltimore, we haven't really had a winter yet.  In fact trees and flowers are blooming, my strawberry plants are multiplying and the daffodils are coming up.  I thought that we were just going to skip winter this year, but the cawing of a thousand crows in the park told me otherwise.  As we came over the hill toward the pond, the birds were everywhere.  About a hundred Canadian Geese added to the cacophony of black crows and the quacking of a handful of ducks, and it occurred to me that they must be doing their layover in the pond on their way south.  The sky smelled of snow, and the air was decidedly colder than the 75 we enjoyed last Saturday. 

As we made our way over to the pond, I marveled at how anything could survive in there, let alone all of these birds.  The pond and all of the feeder streams in this area are so polluted.  As we got closer, I saw the water splash high in the air and a swirl of bubbles as something went under.  I waited a few moments at the edge of the pond and suddenly saw two pairs of eyes swimming toward me.  To my dog, they appeared to be swimming squirrels as I watched him nervously deliberate on whether to jump into the murkey water to chase them.  I quickly realized however that they were a pair of beavers.  Beavers, here in my park!   I was mesmerized.  There is a blue heron that lives here at certain times of year, and there were always the random geese and ducks, but I had never seen so much as a frog, or even a fish, in this polluted water.  I used to come walking here with two extra plastic bags: one for all the trash and one for all the trash that could be recycled.  It was a small effort, but I felt like I contributed to some small beauty, some small act of protection for the Mother. 

I had stopped my clean-ups in the past year, though.  I was so depressed and engulfed in my own sadness, that I often forgot to do even this small ritual for my neighborhood.  And, even if no one else saw it, I noticed the difference.  This only served to spiral me deeper down into the darkness.

In addition, I felt betrayed by the water.  In my earlier studies in Wicca, I spent a long period in meditations on elements.  I would spend days of meditation on a particular element, until I could call up the feelings with a single word.  I would close my eyes and call to Air, and instantly feel a breeze in my face, and the joy of youth and the soft light of morning.  I entered a cerebral place of insight and wisdom with Air, and could call up all the color, symbol and seasonal correspondences.  This followed with each element.  The book that I was reading at the time encouraged me to spend more time with the Element where I felt the least comfortable.  I was ok with Air and Fire, and I loved Water, but really wasn't digging Earth.  I tried to spend more time with Earth, but always loved Water most.  A few years later, under the direction of my priestess, we wrote our own Quarter Calls in preparation for initiation.  I easily wrote a call for Water, but really poured energy into writing a call for the North.  For the first time I found my connection there. 

"From the North, I call upon the Element of Earth
Place of mighty mountain, tall trees and standing stones,
Snakes and Stags, Nature's Guardians of the North,
Come, bring us your gift of strength,
Come, let us listen to the hush of snowfall at midnight,
And learn your power to keep silent."

Earth and I became friends, and even then I retained my special bond to the Element of Water, with it's Healing and mysterious depths.  As a social worker, and in my aspirations of learning herbalism and other healing arts, at my core, I felt a kinship with Healing.  In September, however, two of my close relatives died in a drowning accident.  It was and still is surreal.  I remember taking long walks with the dog in the days after their deaths, and always we would come back to the pond.  I would sit there for hours, staring accusingly at the pond, as if the still waters before me at two feet deep were personally responsible for my anguish.  I refused the healing the Water offered as I was too angry and believed any future healing to be impossible at that time.  I clung instead to Earth and it's silence and stability.  And that has been the way since.  Every time I walked by the water, I got a lump in my throat, and held David John's leash a little tighter, lest the water come and pull him away from me too. 

Today was different.  I was so caught up in watching the beavers play, that when one popped up with a squirming fish in his mouth, all I could do was squeal with the realization that there was much more life under these waters than I had known.  The pond was surviving and thriving despite my lack of effort, and despite the community's efforts to trash it's resources.  It took me a few minutes before I realized that I wasn't sad, standing here by the water.  Then I felt a small twinge of guilt (no longer Catholic, but still guilty) like I was somehow dishonoring my family to take pleasure in my old friend Water again.  This was quickly overcome with relief that I could accept Water's comfort and healing again.   It will be a long time before I'll look at water with the same ease as before, but at least now, I'll be open to the lessons hidden in the murky depths. 

So, things you have learned about me so far: social worker, live in Baltimore, has a dog, likes to walk, likes to ramble.  Most of you knew that already.  Things you might not have known:  I am a first degree member of Stone Circle Coven.  Our coven likes to describe ourselves as theologically liberal with Gardnerian and Alexandrian roots.  We embrace the idea that Wicca is a living tradition, and therefore we do not strictly follow any one tradition.  Yes, there are "conservative" pagans too, and we are not them.  We are proud that through lineage and Judy Harrow's blessing, our coven has aligned itself with the Protean line.  My educational background includes a Bachelors in Social Work, as well as a BA in Religious Studies.  Hopefully this blog will be the beginning of a forum to work out my future career, whether that is in writing pagan books on spiritual mentoring, or doing more research, or just learning how to integrate my pagan beliefs more fully into my work as a healer in the field of social work.  Oh, and one last thing.  I'm an in-the-broomcloset-witch to most of my family and some of my friends.  I come from an ultra-conservative Catholic background, and knowing that I dance around flaming cauldrons would put a major dent in my relationship to my family.  So, on here, I'll go by my magical name, Kwan Yin.