When You Mock the Void, the Void Mocks Back (Planetary Witchcraft Update)

Do you remember when I said I was going to update more regularly? About that.

But nevermind all of the recriminations.

Here's what I learned from the Sun. (Spoiler alert: a bunch of shit I should have known already.)

1) The whole Yule = return of the Sun thing has always felt really, really hypothetical to me. I mean, sure, the days are technically getting longer, but our the time we set up for our solar work was still smack dab in the middle of the darkdarkcold. And our work, when we did it, was mostly happening at night, inside. If I had been able to get outside, or even done more work during the day, I might have been more successful.

2) Getting to the Sun isn't hard. It isn't. In the one clear vision I had of the Sun, the rickety patchwork wooden ladder/staircase/boardwalk contraption I'd crossed over on was viewed with some curiousity from my guide. I don't understand why people come that way, he confided. A perusal of the perimeter of the surface of the sphere yielded infinite paths - many smooth, direct, and clear. If you want to talk to the Sun, you can, you know, just kind of talk to it.

3) Depression is not really solar. I was hoping to leverage the Sun to push through that. Again, actually spending some time outside in the sunlight might have helped. Conjuring the Sun in a dark temple? Less so.

We'll come back to the Sun. We'll work something out.

We moved on to Jupiter.

And, seriously, Jupiter.

We've done more work since Imbolc than we did in the entire six week period allegedly dedicated to the Sun.

And I will talk more about what that work has looked like. Soon. Really. Also to follow: a post about some trippy visionary experiences at a workshop this past weekend. First I need to decode my incredibly sloppy crayon notes.

Planetary Witchcraft: Overview, Part Two

I discussed the year-long overview of the Planetary Witchcraft experiment in Part One of this post. Here's a more concise version of our year-long vision:

Yule-Imbolc: Sun

Imbolc-Ostara: Jupiter

Ostara-Beltane: Mercury

Beltane-Midsummer: Venus

Midsummer-Lammas: Mars

Lammas-Mabon: Moon

Mabon-Samhaim: Saturn

Samhain-Yule: Earth

Planetary Witchcraft: Overview, Part One

I should write a "wow, I haven't blogged in a long time!" post, but I have no desire to do that.

I just want to talk about the new project I am embarking upon this year with Satyr: a sort of get-our-shit-together/unleash-high-weird/maybe-produce-usable-content project. First, some background.

Item: we have been getting Involved with Paganism, at least locally. And ideally that involvement should rest on a solid personal practice. And my personal practice has been less than solid, lately.

Item: I had a vision about 18 months ago in which a guide smiled upon all of my labors and the rituals I was leading and the paths that I was clearing for others. "That's all well and good," he said," but you still have to do your work." That vision's been haunting me.

To Draw this Circle (Heartland Pagan Festival 2014)

My first Heartland was 2009.

I was just beginning to rekindle a spiritual practice that had atrophied considerably (read: died) throughout my relationship with The Capital Ex, and I was more than a little intimidated.

That festival rocked me. Broke through barriers that I'd forgotten I'd built, made things shine and dance and sing. I felt like I found magic all over again, and fell in love with the world. I felt like intense and transformative experiences were hovering in my path, waiting to be collected.

10 Days of Jupiter: Conclusion, Inconclusive

I'll admit that I was hoping that Jupiter would be as mind-blowing as Saturn. Even though I knew it was unlikely.

Even though I'm on Day 27 of this little experiment, and sobbing over a chime candle every day for 27 consecutive days would have fucked with my life a little bit.

Even though... well, whatever, it wasn't.

I didn't have any major revelations. I didn't hear cracking and splitting noises coming from somewhere inside my aura.

I felt a little more energized, a little more organized, and tolerated my job a little better.

Beyond that? Meh.
I am still doing Jupiter and Saturn on their respective days, and still getting a lot more resonance with Saturn.  I am going to make my next few Thursdays a little more intense in hopes of getting farther with it.

10 Days of Jupiter: Day 6 (Send in the hippies!)

Jupiter is easier than Saturn, and feels more like home. For the first few days, I wasn't even sure anything was happening. Saturn is visceral, immediate, and starkly contrasted with my usual modes of being.

Jupiter just feels like a pretty good day. A day in which I know I'll accomplish a lot, and somehow be higher up the mountain by the time I turn out the lights.

10 Days of Saturn: Day 10 ("This is it, the apocalypse...")

I'm waking up to ash and dust,

I wipe my brow and I sweat my rust,

I'm breathing in, the chemicals.*

10 Days of Saturn is complete. I am happy about that, but I am even more pleased that I did it, because... Whoa.

I was terrified of the prospect of this**, and the largest change I can cite right now is that I'm not scared anymore.