Sunday, 24 October 2010

Hidden agendas and hovering foul

The fire burns, it's amber light throwing dancing shadows across the walls of the Cunning man's abode, warming the souls of this house as the coming of winter creeps into the outside world, there is a darkening of the land, an urgency in the local fauna that might suggest the preparations for the oncoming colder time, the flora now descends into it's quiet repose as ripened fruit begins the journey to the realms of rebirth.
The skeins over the house are now a regular event and the local corvids do battle for supremacy, fights erupting in the grey sky over the last few grains and graves on the fields and by ways of our home.

Welcome to the time of thought and preparation, need fire and night journeys.

A great week for this one, as the bitterness of hate and loathing of another turns to serve in part as cement on love and friendship.
Visitors from the north kindly descended upon our family, people whom I have spoken of as those whose wisdom and authority I can admire and respect, people who within this strange culture of neopaganism might well have been washed away in the tsunami of shallow belief, power games and intolerance, but fortune has smiled upon them and indeed myself, for the visit was of great boon and encouragement to one such as I , often alone in this world but now feeling that no longer.
It sometimes takes another not only to show you the doors but to give you the courage to go though them, it was not my place to drag T back into the compass but the right person has perhaps given her the curiosity to take a swim within the currents and pools of chthonic wisdom, an elder spirit resides in her and I am given to wonder that perhaps she is a key to further unlock my own understanding, this is not to be pushed by me and she may or may not decide to tread the mill with this old fool, time and fate will tell.
A beautiful morning on the moors upon the high places and standing stones, the lapwing calling from the dips while Huginn and Munnin gave voice on the summit, a worthy encounter for what I hope will become a firm friendship, far removed from the noisy gobbling of an incessant psychopath.
A warm welcome to Our family my friends and long may we be so.

A warning to those who seek enlightenment in recent times seems appropriate following a conversation with my dear friends.
In this modern age of computers, networking and perceived information, great care must be taken, the way a search engine works has no reflection upon the content of the site that it may direct you to, words lie hidden beneath pictures and other words , put there to pick up on searches and elevate personal websites to higher altitude among the lists, this is no guarantee that the top of the list has any real virtue or authenticity, it is no reflection of the wisdom there it is only a different kind of cunning.
When searching for information on the craft this is especially true, trust instincts, ignore the great promises and be warned, where there are pictures of robed Wizards,velvet clad maidens and crossed bones there may be only pretty pictures and poorly conceived theology at best, falsehood and trickery at worst, where there is personal appeal dig deeper and research further, what you may be looking for might well be further down your google list, do not be fooled by the first on your search, html is a fine skill for those who have knowledge of it, often those who don't have that skill may have the actual knowledge that you seek.
I will further add that you may find something of value wherever you seek, first or last I only urge to take caution, certainly if some kind of actual contact is desired, tread carefully for there are many traps awaiting in the form of promises and false prophets.
For those who wish to look there are links at the bottom of this page, these sites also contain links, if you are interested in Traditional craft there is a great deal to be found there.

So I am left to ponder further upon the mysteries of both worlds, having put to rest the demons of the Internet in a small way, to put to good use the gift given and to further consider the conversation into the world of genetic manipulation, the legless chickens who might be forced to levitate and hover as their wings are of no use, property of Coronal Saunders and the hapless clown of fast food convenience, I have also to mention the devious cunning of one who sold me a car with heavily disguised faults, precious time wasted again, T is insisting on dealing with that one as I am tempted to draw the thorn.
A reading list that seems to double by the day means that I have to reincarnate as it has got so big that I would have to give up work in order to complete it in this life, I wouldn't mind but my lovely family insist on being warm and fed, and the everyday happening of teenagers is often one of noisy distraction.

FFF&F Tony.

Monday, 11 October 2010

A sad farewell and the coming of age.

It would seem that, considering the time of year we now seem to be in the middle of a mini heat wave down here in the wilds of Kernow, at least that is the way it is on those days when I don't have to work outside and can spend by time wittering to you on here.

The Roses about the hedgerows here are laden now with the red fruit of autumn and corbies circle the lanes and fields clearing up the waste and casualties of the road, in the early morning we hear the wild geese in the distance preparing for the daily journey to the estuaries and coasts of our county and the bountiful feeding that awaits them.
Reynard has seen in his wisdom to at least leave us a few hens for the winter, one that yesterday hatched a small black solitary chick that as I speak is running the gauntlet between its two possible sires, natural selection together with fate shall decide if or not the little fellow is to survive, there will be no interference from us other than remembering to shut the door of the pen when we go to bed.

While on the subject of poultry I am pleased to report that the not so wise but very noisy Norfolk Bronze seems to have returned to its own coup, the inane gobble from this most unpleasant species of turkey seems to have died away, they did say that if we could manage to ignore the creature it would most likely just strut off and go and bother some other unfortunate soul, amazing really that it can read as it seems not to be able to write anything worth mentioning.

Yesterday was a sad day indeed here as we said a farewell to our dog “Bear”, he hasn’t passed away but gone to live with another family, for most of his life he has been my constant companion, often coming to work with me, we spent most of our time together, this past year work has changed and I am not able to bring him along any longer, we decided that it was deeply unfair to leave him alone for long periods so we have found him a new home where he can once more have constant companionship, sad for us to let him go yet better for him we feel, he will be sorely missed.

The choices of life are not always simple and the wiser decisions can be the most painful.

Knowledge and wisdom are difficult bedfellows, in the world of communication it is often wiser to keep ones knowledge to oneself, less it be mistaken for arrogance or worse still ignorance.

I am reminded of this situation by the appearance and self-introduction of a young man on a discussion forum to which I have membership.

The Individual in question is undoubtedly an intelligent and well-versed person, but unfortunately opened his introduction with claims and opinions, which could only really serve to at the very least annoy and offend other members of the group, which of course it did.

The opening gambit was one of how Gardnarian Wicca and Traditional Craft were basically one and the same and that Wicca had actually had more of a bonafide right to call itself authentic or “traditional" than most of us think, that Traditional Craft was in fact a mere pretender by drawing insights and knowledge through and from Mr Gardner and not through any kind of bonafide lineage. I am sketching over the facts here a little so as to provide you with the jist.

This may to some be a valid point but definitely not one I would agree with, what I could agree with is the fact that there are many practitioners of both disciplines who at some time have been part of the other, Knowledge and method learned through the neopagan practices could indeed be seen as a kind of evolution of the older Craft, as us such we might be considered foolish to ignore them.

Also to talk in terms of Pagan and Neopagan among those who practice “The Craft” is also a little presumptuous, paganism is not a prerequisite to the craft in any way, personally I happen to consider myself pagan but this is of little consequence to any of my own workings, there would as once said by Robert Cochrane, be nothing to stop a Christian becoming well versed in the arte of witchcraft, to which I would agree, in my youth I would not have seen how this could be possible, as I have only recently discovered , it very much is.

Witchcraft for this fledgling is all about learning and method, nothing at all to do with the acquisition of grand titles or power, this could be seen as a major difference between us and them if you like, as mentioned previously, those promises and declarations are well to be avoided

The Forum itself is a great resource of wise and knowledgeable people, there are no absolutes only opinions and once again tolerance, there is much to learn and discover from such places, I hope that the impetuous actions of a young soul will soon be forgotten and this young man can face the consequences then continue in his voyage of discovery, we all have knowledge and opinions yet it is wiser on occasion to keep them to ones self, or at the least be prepared to face those consequences, if not great opportunities could be missed for one who could achieve good things.

After all, if any of us hadn’t made mistakes in the past we would be a sorry bunch of fools indeed.

Flags,Flax and Fodder.


Monday, 4 October 2010

A welcome Muse,Frankenstein's monster and avoiding the noisy apes.

Another stunning autumnal day here in the southwest, one or two butterflies persist in their search for sustenance, tired and battered wings seem to carry them still against the chill of the oncoming storms of the season. A steady fall of leaves cover the damp ground, a carpet of warmth and nutrition to ensure the return of nature, soon to be overturned by the hens of our household who's mission it seems is to turn the garden into a swamp, a fitting place for this old Ogre some will doubtless think.
As the nights draw in and the morning rises late, the muse returns to the house of The Cunning Man, the canvas stands proud upon its easel awaiting the shapes and texture of this one's reflections, adoration and love, the layers build while the fire of the hearth welcomes her into my home and it is there where she reflects the heat and passion of the midsummer, dark inspiration to bring light to the darker times to come, I hope to do justice to all that she gives, patience, careful thought and planning are required once more, unnecessary distractions must be put to rest finally.

The pages of the calendar continue to turn, four weeks or there abouts to the biggest celebration in our yearly schedule, I am reminded by a visit to our local city, whereupon my visual senses are assaulted by a cacophony of plastic skulls, plastic pumpkins, hooked noses and Frankenstein's monster masks, the trappings of All Hallows Eve, all the fun and games for children and adults alike.
Am I offended by this crass commercialism?
The answer is... Apart from the fact that most of this stuff will end up in landfill, and the personal creativity of our own youth seems to be going the same way, not really. Yes, It has fallen victim to the real monsters that lurk in the dark, the retailers and supermarkets that creep around our over consuming society. It does not reflect what we do in our own celebrations however, it is still celebrated, there is a gene in all of us the globe over that recognises this time, even the church acknowledges it(though I suspect they rather wouldn't), one even has to give credit to the church for doing so, as their celebration there is closer to what we do, a thinning of the veil, for us it may be reverence, acknowledgement, contact and affirmation of the wisdom and love of our ancestors, a link to the divine through them, for the Reverend it is a similar celebration only here it is reverence for those within that community that have shown wisdom or performed divine acts, The Holy Saints, the bridge between man and his god.
A million miles from Transylvania's blood suckers and bolts through the neck, let them all have their fun, and why not?
The bobbing apple is after all a close relative of the rose.
A great night to tell the children stories as well, possibly the best night in the year, wired into the event young minds find the will to listen to chthonic tales from the underworld, even absorbing the finer details on occasion.
I have to sadly add here, that we live far enough from regular civilisation that we do not have to endure the fouler aspects of this wonderful time, we used to take our children to the nearest village to do the trick or treat thing, a "jack o lantern" in the window of the home would declare if a welcome treat could be found, but a mile down a dark muddy lane to the house where the witches live will tend to stop the little darklings coming here.

Communication with the wider community brings further lessons, my base animal instincts which I have relied on solely for too long need to be kept on a leash, reaction to offence can cause further offence perhaps even to those to whom you might never consider" if in doubt best not lash out" a pitfall might await the careless traveller indeed.
The greater realisation, at least on this occasion, is that those who we truly count as friends, those whose support and nurture we value, are not afraid to let you know when you are treading close to the line, those who's wiser council is to move on and let the sleeping dogs lie, rather than teasing them with tempting morsels and tit bits just to see if they will bite, they do bite, it is not as bad as the bark, but ultimately if we are quiet they will just fall back off to sleep.
A solitary existence has meant that within my close circle I have been sat atop a proverbial tree, not akin to a wise monkey and on the occasion throwing stuff at those who I see below.
I see before me a much greater tree and there are those within its many branches that may may be willing to help me to climb it, but only if I can continue my journey with wisdom and integrity, it is a great thing to know these people are there.

So as a word of warning, when strolling around the esoteric forest, Do not always head for the first tree off the path, avoid the easy climb, as the one that may be harder to climb may well have the best fruit, most importantly steer clear of the windblown especially if there is a bunch of rather noisy simians on its branches, there is no fresh fruit there, doubtless there ever was.
So it is heads up, treading quietly, avoiding the sticky mud and ignoring the distracting noises from the easily climbable trees, doubtless having to dodge the odd projectile on occasion.

Flags, Flax and Fodder. Tony..