Notes of the Inner-Self:
Blog-Posts of everything from reviews and opinions to observations and stream of consciousness.
Haunting, beautiful, uplifting. His art is truly a spiritual experience for those of us in the Occult fields or faiths, and a candid look into our spirituality for those who are not. Take a Tour of this Artist’s fascinating and inspiring works, his professional life through freelance, music and finding his calling with this great article from The Wild Hunt :
Can you hear me?
There isn’t much time now, not these days.
They’re watching. I must be quick.
It’ll never be enough time…
They have me now. Choked. Just tight enough not to run. Just loose enough to breathe. But not true, good, deep breaths. No, not free breaths. Just enough to survive. Because survive is all you can do, here.
And they know…
They know what they are doing. They know what is too valuable to lose, what is too valuable to waste. They can’t take you down completely, because then you’ll be useless. Then you can’t help them. But so long as they leave a little bit of you left alive, they torment you worse, breaking you, because they know – they know you remember. They know you still hope. They know you can still see the other side – and if you see it, you think there’s still a chance.
But there is no chance so long as you’re inside. They’ll never let you be free.
They come now, go – hush!
Don’t let them find you, don’t let them know.
… but I am trying to find my way back.
I found somewhere. A place that was free. That was wondrous. That was peaceful and invigorating. A place where things come alive.
Such a place, it was.
What a place it was.
I am trying to find my way back. The Spirit has been damaged too deep, but you must move on. Must keep going, keep searching. I will find my way back, at the end of the road. I will come back home.
I am tired, and torn. I just need to rest. And then tomorrow I will pick up my shield once more.
Like a drug, keep moving. Like a drug, keep chasing.
Nothing else can compare. Nothing else will do. So sweetly it taints the rest.
I am lost.
But I am trying to find my way back.
-MM-
It is May Day, Bealtaine. Where has the year gone?
I have been too busy to observe, but I have felt more connected than most years.
I have learned how very much I rely on these callings from my bloodline. My history, my faith, and they have given me strength and peace this year. I am happy. I am productive. Goals are in my sight – and it is inspiring and motivating.
Light the Fires in this Season – protect yourselves from the harm that can bombard you daily. Forget the hindrances of the past, and move on, move forward, into your new, bountiful self.
Drink the Dews run over from the Springs, let them wash out your doubt and your weariness. Let them feed your spirit, your mind, and take their renewing vigor and make much of their gift to you in this waning half of the year.
Too Soon Darkness will descend and the Sun will slumber beneath the bough.
Too soon, another year will come to close. Let this Season flourish while the bounty is still ripe and full.
Bless the Blood.
~MM~
When did Witchcraft become a contest? They ask. But inside, my guts churn, and my blood boils, as I read the insulting lines that get pissed off at others unjustly judging poor, victimized Wiccans…the complaints of the “constant belittling” of Wiccans…whilst they so hautily, and casually belittle others.
Others’ complaints of Wicca is apparently horrendous bullying. Even though we are constantly told we are wrong, that our religion doesn’t exist anymore – or even told the horrible inaccurate accusation of saying ours NEVER exsisted? Look at the snide remark of
” (And that’s before pointing out that Traditional Witchcraft is an idea often so nebulous that it’s about as hard as “Wicca” to define, and with just as many varied traditions.)”
OH. Ok. So YOU can pretty much say “traditional” paths are BS, and you’re just “stating facts” – But we call Wicca BS, and we’re belittling you?
Yes, Pot. The Kettle is black. But so the fuck are you.
I am sorry, but when you crawl up on a high horse, hijack other’s religions, boast falsehoods as reality, and then can stomach to produce and market such crap that, for example, bolsters the magical properties of a paperclip and how to force someone to love you (forever) ???
Paperclips and love potions?
This reads like a bad Weasley rip off.
The rest of the world is pissed off, constantly belittle you, because you are constantly making a mockery out of us. You spit in our face, commandeer our faith and rites, only listen half-heartedly to our myths and histories, pick and choose what you want to hear and throw away all the rest, then paste-over the parts you don’t like with someone else’s stolen faiths and do just the same to them all over again.
The entire concept of your faith is scattered, broken, confused and insincere. You don’t know what you want to believe, so you just show it all together and claim it is the “right” way to be, and then market your ransacked religion as *THE* religion of the modern age – when that is just flat out not true.
you are O N E religion. That’s it, one, singular path out of the many thousands of choices. You all are so entitled and proud, and think you are then end all, be all example of what a pagan should be.
No.
I’m not listening. I’m not having it. There are plenty who do not hate you, plenty who even adore you – plenty of people who are on your side and your team. And just like ANYTHING in life, there are also plenty of people who do not like you, plenty of people who hate and despise you, and I tell you what, I bet each and every one of us have our reasons, and how dare you try to tell us we do not have the right to be mad, or angry, or not like you, or disapprove.
Disapprove. That is the perfect word. Disapprove. I disapprove of everything about Wicca – it is not even a matter of disagreements. I disagree with Christianity, but I do not disapprove of it. It is simply not for me. I do not agree with Shamanism. But I do not disapprove of that either, it is beautiful and fitting for many folk – but does not fit me in the slightest bit. But to each their own.
This is different – Wicca has plagued me and mine with misinformation, discrimination, mockery, blasphemy and sacrilege. It has desecrated sacred oaths and practices, it has propagated our faith and our deities to nothing more than carnival tricks and novelty. It has sexualized every inch and cranny of our faith to make us all out to be nothing more than a bunch of horny nymphos using a “fertility goddess” as a shield to act like whores, and somehow be proud of that?
What Wicca does on a daily basis, every hour of every day is hurtful and shameful to those who practice traditional forms of the religions they have taken from.
It hurts.
It hurts.
So yes, I am bitter. Yes, many of us are angry. But we have every single right to be so. It is not a “Cosmic Pissing Contest” it is those that feel wronged and insulted lashing out against the ones who have caused those insults. It may be childish at times, but I have never been a fan of ALWAYS taking the high road, and that is just my own personal opinion. I enjoy flinging shit when the other side is deserving of shit. Spitefulness, bitterness, anger, pain – these are all valid, legitimate human emotions, and I won’t be told I am not entitled to my emotions just because you feel you should be more important than you are.
No. It is not a pissing contest. The fact that you would call it that just proves how completely self centered and detached your community is from ours.
-M
Recently, I was involved in a discussion in a pagan group about the ambiguous nature of how modern pagans identify themselves, and their, seemingly, complete disinterest in their historic roots or traditions. Specifically, modern “Druids” and those who claim Celtic Paganism, but practice a naturalistic or animistic path and make no mind or matter of the Celtic Pantheon. And though, unfortunately, the person who started this discussion, that brewed into an all out protest, turned out to be entirely misguided, arrogant and disrespectful, I couldn’t help but identify with the sentiments of his original posting.
It is no secret that I often feel alienated from the greater pagan community. Just today I read a poll about online pagan connections vs. real life interactions, and it is a sad realization that I have neither of these. I communicate plenty, but no more than an exchange of a certain topic, and then we both (or however many are involved) move on with our lives. I don’t actually have any Pagan friends or associates.
Too many times, I do not fit inside the neat little package of whatever is expected, and so I smile, and move on leaving those connections undone, and it is, for the most part, because of the Modern Pagan ideology. It can be seen all over the online pagan community, from places like The Wild Hunt, Witches & Pagans, and even sadly the Order of Bards Ovates and Druids – druidry, in its essence, has been boiled down to nothing more than a nature based spiritualism, and speaks nothing of the true nature of the practice.
Druidry, itself, began as an Irish practice, the word Druid itself derivative from the irish word druí. The art and practice of the druid, of course, spread and could be found all over the celtic worlds – but where are these roots in the modern practice? There is no mention, whatsoever, of its Irish heritage, or any celtic influence whatsoever. They completely ignore the religious side of the practice, removing celtic spirituality, and relate it to nothing more than arts, creativity and a oneness with nature. All of which are well and good in their own rites, but where are the deities? Where is the pantheon? Where is the Leabhar Gabhala, the Mabinogi?
Even if one does not associate themselves as a Druid specifically, the same notion can be seen all over modern “celtic” paganism – which has become practically indiscriminate from Wicca. I see so many practicing “Celts” name praise to a Roman or even Hindu Goddess, raise up Egyptian iconology, invoke the strength of Viking, Shamanistic or even Native American spirits and deities, and yet keep a strangely absent figure of the pinnacle deities of the Tuatha De Danann – or even Danu herself, and the convenient lack of ANY God or male figure whatsoever, save in a few remarks in a highly sexualized consort, making any figure out to be a supplicant and lesser to the Goddess figure, not the equal that balanced the coupling that was so important – not only in a matter of divinity, but as an entire concept – to the celts as a cultural whole.
More than once I have come across those who do not know the tales of the Tuatha de Danann, let alone know the significance they hold to the nature of magic and spiritualism, as well as the arts and sciences in the mythos and canon. Too often I have come across those who have never read the Mabinogion, do not know the difference between Irish or Welsh. Where is the education? Where is the pride in your culture? Where is the faith? How can you call yourself a Celt, but know nothing of their culture and abandon their practices?
Have we reached a turning page in Neo-Paganism where we simply reinvent and redefine instead of making the effort to connect, and learn from our ancestors and our past? Do we really take such freedoms for granted, and take such free-reign liberties and entitlements with our faith that we feel we can just make up whatever we want?
It is a sad, and hurtful thought for someone like me who lives and breathes her Irish blood. Who is so closely connected to those deities of the past, and whose culture defines and shapes her everyday life. Where are we to fall, in this new-wave paganism? Where we do not fit in the past era of reconstructionism, but do neither do we frolic freely with culture appropriations of new-age spirituality. And what future do our ancestral roots hope to gain when they are so easily abandoned and ignored?
Some of my interests tickle your fancy?
Don’t forget I’m on Pinterest as well – I’ve got plenty of Pins to share and enjoy, and I’m a bit of a board-hogger as well: I love watching and following others’ collections, so come join me for the fun – browse all my boards, and show me some neat new things you might’ve found.
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You can also take a peek into my writing world and inspirations on my Book Notes Board and the Darker Side of Research Board (warning: Graphic content)
Dearest Brother,
I write in your name, in hope that my words may find you. Though you cannot come to me, I know you send your blessings. I can hear them whisper to me, and I know you are close, in mind and soul, if not in body.
I have been seeking, and I have found much clarity, though it pains me to be far from the family that knows me so dearly. Our sister tries, falsely, to reconcile, but I fear it is naught more than appearance and, forced, propriety. She does not know us as we do. She does not know the truths that we know, nor the pains we have felt and faught.
I miss you.
I am alone, you have our brothers, your families together. Though none walk beside me, I do, at least, have support here. Kind ears that will hear me, unblinded eyes that will see me for what I am, and not for what they’ve been told to look. But still, I miss you.
Castor is naught without Pollux.
Do I walk in light and you in dark, or am I the one lost in darkness? I forget the path you have given me. Shadows can make the light feel so dark.
But I know you do what you must, and we will find our stars.
Find my words across the gap.
Know I listen.
Send my love to our blood. Send my sails down the rivers,
Forget me, not
le grá mór ó
do dheirfiúr óg
MM
I am not a feminist because I do not take sides. I am not going to endorse one whole group vs. any other group.
I am not going to pitch myself against any whole.
I believe in equality not special treatment, meaning I do not need to join a movement for the goodness of only one group, as I am not for any one group – I am for all groups.
I come from a culture where women have ALWAYS been strong, and badass, and capable, and equal to all others.
Where you earn your place and respect. Where if you want something, you dedicate yourself, and you learn, and you struggle, and you WORK to make it happen – not whine and gripe and pitch a hissy-fit behind a picket line. What good does that do? What are you proving to anyone? That you can scream the loudest? That you are more nagging and obnoxious than the next picket line?
Congratulations.
That’s an honour I can suffer without.
I come from a culture where if you act like a piece of shit, you are treated like a piece of shit – if you act like a badass, you are treated like a badass. And that goes for EVERYONE and ANYONE, man, woman, child, olde, new, or prime. ANYONE. Where you are the product of the consequences of your actions, good or bad, where slaves can rise to become kings, and kings can fall to be slaves because EVERYONE has the exact same chance as the next, but once you earn your place – that’s it, you’ve earned it. So if you are disatisfied with it, YOU change it. Not yell at others to change the way the rest of them work for your own lazy betterment – but YOU put up the effort to change YOU to make your own situation better.
I walked into a job and got paid MORE than the MAN I was hired to replace.
Why?
Because I am the shit. That’s why. Because I am dedicated, because I am loyal, because I am too damn stubborn to ever give up, because I know how to take criticism, because I know how to learn from my mistakes, because I have a work ethic that is, frankly, unseen in these days. Becasue I make it to where others can’t do anything but respect me, because my actions command respect.
Command.
NOT demand. There is a gravely significant difference between those two words, that is often confused, or people are just ignorant to these days.
I have a friend who just recently nailed her job offer – making the same amount as a male counterpart who was technically hired before her, at a higher level of education and certification, and should, by all reasonable means, make more than she does because of seniority both in length of time there, and level of education. But she landed an offer making *the exact same amount he does*. There is also much mroe to that offer that I can’t discuss here because it is priviledge information, and SHE got it. Not him.
Why?
Because she is the shit.
Because she took the opportunity seriously, and busted ass, and put in the effort, and showed dedication and loyalty and responsibility. Because she went above and beyond the call of duty and showed that she was an invaluable member of the team, and would only be an asset to the growth of the company and that she was an absolute badass.
Because her actions commanded it to be so.
And guess what? We are LOVED by our colleagues. We are not called bossy, or bitchy, or anything negative that feminist propoganda would have you believed, because, again, we commanded it, not demanded it. Those who have to get “bitchy” to get respect have not earned it – and they don’t have respect, they have intimidation. They have fear. They have control over others. Which is still effective, but very, very different.
And that is only two examples, from just one tiny little anectdote. Think of how many other cases out there are like ours? You simply hear less about us, as women – PEOPLE – in out position don’t generally need to flaunt it, because, generally, people in our position on strong, confident secure individuals who do not need the notoriety to qualify themselves. The ones in offense, the weak, the insecure, the ones without conviction tend to be the ones who scream the loudest, because maybe if they are loud enough, they can convince themselves it is true along with everyone else.
My son came home talking about god, and the pit of my stomach turned with bitter indignation.
Wow.
I didn’t realize I was so angry.
But I was so angry.
It came as a slap in the face – how horrible, how prejudice, how hypocritical I was being. I tried to remember how I felt when others around me tried to push their own ideas onto me. I didn’t want to be that person, I don’t want to be that person, and up to this point I have worked hard to not be that person. But my subconscious kept crawling up the back of my spine, screaming profanities at me, and insisting this wasn’t the same. But how is it not?
It’s not. I was angry, and after a very gut-wrenching night of virtually no sleep, I can clearly explain why it is not the same now.
Those who know me personally know that I am very proudly, strongly, and happen to be extremely religiously pagan – a traditional brand of Irish Druidry to be specific. My husband was, for a time, very much so rastafarian, but it died in the fact that he is very against religion – not necessarily faith, but religion as this organized monster. He’s also a bit of a conspiracy addict with a vein of paranoid anti-social hermitism. So, needless to say, we are not the overtly religious household, no matter which path it manifests itself, because, again, those who know me also know I am very subtly pagan outwardly in the regular, everyday, face-face world; Not because I am ashamed or because I shy away from the combative nature of others when they find out (my Irish blooded Gemini self relishes in quite the opposite, but I’m working on that…) but because that is how I feel all religious beliefs should be: personal. Because my son is not necessarily in a position to make a personal decision or connection with any one religion, it is just not a subject of discussion or direct influence or teaching in our household. My beliefs are my beliefs, I do not need to push them on anyone else. My son can make up his mind when he is olde enough to decide whatever he wants to believe in.
That is why it was different. That is why it bothered me so much and made be so bitter and angry with things I cannot control. Christianity in and of itself does not bother me; I have tons of Christian friends of just about every sect and variety, even my own husband – afterall, Rastafarianism is a form of Christianity itself, and I married him! It was not a matter of me trying to push my own beliefs onto my son, but the fact that others were doing that very thing.
I have tried so hard to raise him in a nuetral environment, and yet it is still happening. I am angry that the world I have worked hard to create for him is being violated. I feel like my lifestyle and my parenting is being violated. I am angry that my son thinks he believes in something, simply because he doesn’t know any better or any different.
They are children. They are naive, they are innocent, they are reliant on an entire universe of adults to teach them what is right and true in the world. When you tell them something, they take it as fact, because their entire lives have been trained that what adults tell you is true, and they know everything. They don’t know any better. They do not understand the concept of higher powers, divine interventions or spirituality – they are still trying to figure out their own selves, they are still trying to figure out how this world works, let alone a metaphysical one. You tell them 2+2=4, they learn it to be fact, you tell them the Sun rises in the east and sets in the west, it is fact. You teach them about everything in life, and it is fact, it is only assumed that if you then teach them about god, it is also fact. There is no differentiating. He does not know that is not fact. He does not know he has a choice. And that is what makes me angry.
It makes me angry that I cannot protect my son from those who would keep him from thinking for himself – and in order to correct that, in order to show him he does have a choice in whatever he wants to believe in, I will have to go against everything I’ve tried to uphold until this point. I will have to break our neautral household, and start teaching him other faiths.
Which is not a horrible thing, of course, but that too makes me angry. Once again, my life has been dictated by others.
Everything which I didn’t want him to have to experience.