Of Love and the pursuit of understanding.

What are the things that drive us into those darker places of the world?

For me it is love, a love of the world and love of the creative forces that shape, mould and bring life to it in all its myriad forms, the magic of birth, death and of course earthly love, the ebbs and flows of the seasonal year and the changes in the flowing energies that follow, a love of the creative, of poetry, art and music, all this and more, and to see it all one has only to look and listen.
Many of these things have been devalued in today's society, the constant chasing and grabbing for financial gain is often the cause, wanting to cash in on our primordial love, even those seemingly untouchable energies of the world have been bought and sold under the guise of the "new age" or some other off the shelf philosophy.
This of course is not a problem in itself, providing that we as individuals do not let these preconceptions muddy the waters of our world, not always easy but possible.

So, how does love drive my being?
Well, I believe that love of anything drives you to want to understand that thing, absolutely, every facet of it, understanding and knowledge leads to a deeper love, the mechanic who loves his engine needs to take the engine apart to see hour it works, the principals of mechanics are similar in all engines but an exploration of the engine will reveal the deeper understanding and a greater appreciation of its working.
This has been and continues to be my life's work, a stripping down and pursuit of the world that I love, hopefully I have attained some greater understanding of it, I can say for certain that everyday my capacity to love grows and grows, and so does my passion for knowledge and the truth.
I have done and achieved many things in the pursuit of knowledge, I have worked as an Artist, photographer, gamekeeper, woodsman, handyman, decorator and currently builder, mostly in an attempt to further explore the muses( although lately for financial reasons), I love the light, the creatures of the wood, the trees, craftsmanship and beauty,on a deeper level than I possibly could have had I not explored them all.
I have met my soul in my own wife, and friends who have been with me on both sides of the veil, I have two beautiful children and a roof over my head, we are financially poor but rich in the one thing I believe pushes us on and that is love, if given the chance to change anything of the past, even the emotional turmoil and destruction we all have at times to endure, I would decline.

So this is the force that compels us all, the true magick, the beauty of the soul, the truth.
The one overriding force that connects everyone of all faiths and beliefs upon this heavenly globe we call the earth, if only all could recognise this fact this world would be a much nicer place to live in, instead the relentless pursuit of money, land, oil and power has allowed the populous within what we know as the developed world at least, to concentrate on those ideas that continue to separate us, and those in the undeveloped world to aspire to our notions of greed and consumerism, when the lives many of them lead are indeed far richer than our own.

Love is also the cause of all pain and sorrow, even the cause of hate and loathing, as the underlying force of human creation even this must be accepted as a key to understanding the mystery itself, to forgo love is to forgo all emotion, death and loss are hard to bear for some, those who have a greater understanding less so, even the heart rendering pain of a love lost will bring something in the way of repayment, it may take time but it will come.
Even in the midst of death we find love!
I will illustrate
Modern medicine fails to recognise love and often the soul, I was present and the departure of my own grandmother, just she and I were there, I was able to sit with her and say my farewells as I watched her soul disappear from its shell and depart on its new voyage, a deeply emotional moment driven again by the love of a woman to whom I was possibly closer to that any other relative within her family.
The medical establishment refused to acknowledge that I had been witness to her leaving although my own mother acknowledged that truth , they kept her body alive for four more years, a soulless creature in agony and pain, destroying the life of her husband (who was not a spiritual man) and that of those other relatives who had not understanding .
My mother then had to watch her own father degenerate before her over the following years clutching at a hope that his beloved may recover, where as my mother and I both knew that she had gone, only we were denied the right to celebrate her passing for a long time, which itself is a lesser evil.
Would I change anything about this ? No, it bought me closer in understanding to my mother, and for her a deeper understanding of me, to be present at that moment of departure was also a privilege, one that the old lady wished to share with me alone, deepening my understanding of love, death and the soul, if at that point I had any doubt about the existence of the spirit it was able then to depart with my Grandmother, my grandfather came to terms with his loss upon the burial and set off on the voyage some time later.

There we are once more, the cunning mans thought of the morning, not so magickal or esoteric, but a secret that is behind all magic and things of that nature not to mention all existence, try to achieve anything without love and you will fall flat on your face, find love in the things you do, the art and poetry of the world, the hills valleys and mountains, the woods, the lakes, the sea and sky,
If you start here a depth of understanding will unfold, the true Grail if you like, the caulron of inspiration, the sublime gift if the feminine.

The Creatrix is love.
Love is the Creatrix.
Let LOVE be the whole of the law.

fff

Smouldering fire greets the Queen of May

Here at last, the May it has arisen.
The sky here is filled with the sound of birdsong, the hornet crawls in its exploration of the eaves of our cottage, the swallow flies low over the evening field to catch those also newly arrived to greet the sun, preparations underway from all that is furred and feathered, winged and walking, all eagerly awaiting their own new arrivals, the air is warm and the smouldering fire has started to burn bright.
Patience has again been the lesson here, together with expectation, things do not always turn out as expected!
The month has been a long wait for the shift, started as you know with the marriage of some dear friends, then, as warned descended into a period of illness, trickery and financial difficulty, all very draining.
Here for me, the May arrived in a cloud of mist, a fiery confrontation with a dear one ( not my beautiful wife, but my youngest girl) virtually wiping out any energy had had left after this trying time, the call still came, so stepping out into the fog beyond the gate and protection of my home with wood, pot and stang I set off across the fields to the chosen spot, an open field on the edge of the woods where often I find solice and inspiration.
As always I sat, contemplating the place before laying out my space, thick mist made the use of any light pointless, when "bang" then another "bang", a flash of a light through the air, nothing ethereal about this one, someone was out shooting close by, what they were shooting at and how could they indeed see what they were shooting at I do not know, even the question of weather or not they had permission to shoot at what they were shooting at,or were they poaching.
Anyway, I did not feel that this place was appropriate to my working any longer, I had not the strength or the will for confrontation, not to mention a sense of self preservation, these guys were blasting at shapes in the cloud, there was no conceivable way they could see what they were doing properly, I didn't fancy my chances if they were to spot my fire or catch the reflection of my retina in the beam of the lamp, so back across the fields I returned to my garden to work in safety tonight,(interestingly the spirits of the place felt the same and accompanied me home, I welcomed that and felt it such a privilege to have them glide along side,if not a little sad) .

To work here is no hardship, we live on a high place with virtually no neighbours, those that there are understand the ways of things and tolerate our "spooky goings on", as someone not so understanding once said, the house is surrounded with Oak, Ash,Thorns(Back and Haw), Holly and elder in fact most species of tree dwell upon the boundary of my house.
So to the business of the hour, the Compass cast,the fire lit (more of an enthusiastic smoulder in the damp air) and the old ones and the winds invited to attend, I set about my usual method with great expectation, soon I would be accompanying those already traveling the spirit road (incidentally one, "The Giants Hedge" is visible from my house, at least if falling precipitation will allow) and welcome in the roodmass in good company.
Again this was not to be, energy levels to low, distracted and beaten by emotional turmoil, stumbling around like the proverbial fool, while pyewhacket rubs himself against all objects in an attempt to push them over, this is where realisation and instinct over ride logic and planning, as someone once said to me , try to shoot from the hip, hard but the results pay off, so with wise words in my head I sat in my circle and let the night pull me along.
One simple bit of magick put the confrontation to bed, then to wait.
It wasn't long before I heard the steps behind, that dread feeling that something ancient and very powerful was standing right behind me, the excitement as I gave in to absolute trust, knowing within myself that I was safe but only because he willed it and she willed him to will it, an instruction and a nudge and the rest of the night went perfectly,the mists lifted, both metaphorically and actually, the fire burned with a little more enthusiasm, the spring barking of the red fox accompanying the night calls of the watching Tawney, all the while the steady drip of spring rain falling from the trees, here I was in the middle of natures Beltane symphony, a place where I could once more become complete.
The rite of the Rood was not as I had planned or indeed expected, but a fabulous one none the less, I had not the ability on this night to join them, but felt the warmth of those who were out, those spirits and energies of people not unlike myself, all doing their thing, I was in no way alone.

So there we have it, The tide has changed and we carry on with our lives, to all those who have shared this interest I welcome you, I am communicating with people the likes of until recently I never thought would exist, my thanks go out to Nathaniel for your inspiration and words of wisdom, and those Internet friends who readily give their support, Thank you to those of Tubal Cain and the 1734 tradition your input is of great inspiration, long may it continue, Bendith Y Mamau to you all.
This is not so lonely, this life on the crooked path, rich and full to the brim indeed.

The May queen has danced the dance and Lucifer radiates upon this land.

FFF.

Waiting for the Rood

Nearly half the way through the month of may, I for one was expecting to be telling tales of life on the other side of the Beltane hedge, but alas we are still waiting for the may to rise, the sky soon once again to be clear of the vapour trail is somewhat deserted by the trail of the broom , the spirit roads remain quiet.

As I write the warm spring sun pushes its heat through the barely white tips of the Hawthorn outside and through my window,unseasonably cold this month has been until now, after all the roodmass usually heralds the start of summer, the time of the oak, even down here in the southwest the leaves of said tree are still stretching their limbs and pushing sap toward their tips, the greening is coming but taking its time this year.
On the spring time theme, our hens are enjoying the shift, half of them are now sat on eggs while old Foghorn struts around the garden like the expectant father, the cruak of the raven fills the sky above while old shuck continues to bark at shades in house and grove.

The trickster has taken a break from harassing the Cunning mans beloved, perhaps himself deciding to take a rest amongst the bluebell woods, while the others prepare for the time of love, lust and frivolity.
An odd time for those of us who feel we are governed by the tides of nature, puzzled looks when replying to the question "how was your Beltane" with the answer"actually I am still waiting", how many people have carried the Blackthorn boughs into their homes, the blossom on that one has stayed well into this month, even turning this old tree man's head on occasion.

T's artwork is springing forward to new levels of excellence, this is how the changing times effect her, some truly marvelous soul art is being born as I write, this is how she performs her rites of spring. www.victoriamacleod.co.uk
The creative energy in that one humbles me and my efforts, yet I take an enormous pride in the fact that in some way she paints the world and its symbols, exactly as I see it. In this time of deepening love and partnerships I am trying to coerce her back into the compass once again, selfishly trying to tap into that force to create something magickal in the other places, we have enjoyed those pleasures in the past and hopefully they shall return in the future.
I know she will read this, and to her I give my love and it shall endure across all eternity, between all worlds, not even to be separated by the veil, as it has always been.

There you are, Cunning mans heart bared open for all to see, waiting as patiently as I can for manifestation of summer, poetic thought and declarations of undying love, Roodmass is definitely approaching.

On the final point, the may pole is eager to receive the maid, T says that it has a mind of its own and possibly its own solar calendar, as it seems to think that every day should be May Day....

FFF&F

Dancing with the Trickster.

Well, another strange time, The May has yet to arrive, so while we are all waiting who should arrive to remind us that we are human, Loki, the trickster is abroad, taking fair advantage from what is otherwise a quiet peaceful air.
Friends and relations all over this blue planet have been plagued for a week or more with mostly minor little things going awry, testing times indeed, this one did not escape Loki's mischievous eyes.
In order to get to my friends wedding we required transport, transport with an exhaust system that will remain intact, this was the first trick, then there was a virus that had both T and myself layed out for a couple of days, finally (hopefully) the water tank in the roof decided that it wasn't big enough, so then proceeded to spit excess water onto the ceiling, three a.m. and I am awoken by the delicate sound of water alighting with some urgency upon the floor outside my bedroom.
Just as we think the storm has passed my youngest J returns from school in tears, a young reprobate had decided to bully a friend of hers, when she defends said friend she aptly rewarded by being thrown to the floor then punched in the face, so I guess the time of the chaotic fool has yet to end.

What has any of this got to do with my usual esoteric ramblings?
Coping mechanisms, that is my answer.
Unfortunately, for me at least, my ability to use Magick is not good enough to conjure a new pipe for the underside of the car, it can heal, although to heal oneself when low on energy is hard to say the least, neither am I capable of charming a fleet of broomsticks to clear up the torrent of water outside my bedroom, as for the boy with the over active fist, it would already seem that there is a small army waiting to exact Karmic retribution upon him, so the need for me to act(in any way) has lessened for the moment.

The coping mechanisms that I have are ones that have been acquired through the patience and study of the mystery's, my natural instincts are far hotter, in the past it has occasionally been an "if in doubt, lash out" kind of reaction, to any misfortunes that have come my way, the price is always paid and this way of dealing never comes cheap.

Patience, being in tune with the unseen, leaves us with a better foundation for dealing with the seen, the petty mundane troubles that accompany our everyday lives become far less of an issue when an understanding of the greater picture is playing a greater part in our lives.
To turn the mains water off to stop a leak, to take the knocks, to go back to bed and gain the strength to fix the problem in the morning, learning to swim with the river instead of trying to thrash against the flood, most of our own troubles are not of any real consequence and are rarely of any importance to the greater scheme of things.Let the petty drama's play out by themselves, save the energy in case anything really serious happens.
Quite honestly, we are not anywhere as near as important as we like to think we are.

So there we are, today's lesson(personal one), Magick doesn't solve all the problems,what it gives us is the tools and discipline to cope, it also helps in learning to deal with the real world and that has for me (not to mention my beloved)become a rather pleasant side effect.

I think that to keep in the spirit of things, i might go and cause a little mischief myself, eager as I am to tread the mill, perhaps a game of knockout ginger in the village will sate my spring energy for the moment, May even appease the Trickster to boot.

FFF&F.

Natural Magick, In the house of the desert God.

May the first has now been and gone, although Beltane true is yet still waiting in the wings.
The weekend spent in oxford, at the wedding of my dear friends Matt and Emmi.
Well! what a hum dinger of an affair that turned out to be, This old Witch never thought for one second that he would witness wild natural magic in the house of the desert god.
An old church on the banks of the Isis, watched over by an old Yew tree, over a thousand years or more, back from a time when the old religion lived happily alongside the new, I think the Priest was a little disturbed to see this old Devil and his stang, walking upon his hallowed ground, however , he was polite and courteous to me (if not a little secretly disgusted judging by the look on his face in some of the pictures, most vicars don't expect to be faced with an antler clad man on there way to work, although there are some that by their own deeds and beliefs perhaps should), a big enough man to know that this day was not for him, me or even his chosen Deity, the day truly belonged to the happy couple.
The two mentioned, performed one of the most powerful binding spells I think I have ever seen, the wild sparks of true love filled the air between them, weaving a bond that I believe shall last an eternity, The Cunning Man's eyes where truly brimming at the event, witnessed by christian and our Clan alike, all were touched.

The first reading came from the Song of Solomon, which was appropriate to the couple, the second was this by W B Yeats.

Had I the heaven's embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with gold and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
of night and light and the half light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I being poor, have only my dreams;
And I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly, because you tread on my dreams.

Read by the brides mother, a most poinient poem, The pair live a simple life upon the canal, they have little money or possessions, what they have is Love, brimming bucket loads of the stuff, and a tribe that holds them very dear.
A great day in all, the old ones allowed the weather to remain beautiful until the end, where upon the two departed west into oxford, along the river for a night of passion in a nice hotel(when I saw the happy couple the next day,they told me that amongst the obvious , they also enjoyed using the Hotel's bath, several times as on the boat a shower is all they have).
The rest of the night spent for the rest of us drinking and laughing with friends from all over the world, a time to catch up and make promises to keep in touch, most of which will not be broken, thanks in part to the thing known as Facebook.
So, a short one today, Big thanks to all those who helped Matt and Emmi's day go so beautifully ( especially my youngest Girl who was bridesmaid, J you make me proud), I left in the knowledge that I could not have done such a good job as they did for my beloved family, and as such my door shall always be open to these new additions to my tribe, there lies the rest of it really, what a marvelous family we all have become, and our love goes out to you all, more often than you might realise.
A long journey back to Cornwall, made all the sweeter by a visit to The White horse at Uffington and Wayland's smithy, Stonehenge and finally home.
Mayday celebrations in the village are today , so up for a pint or two I think.
Blessings of the Roodmass be upon all who read this.

Oh! and yes I did claim my right as Dark Fairy Godfather to the firstborn.

Flags, Flax, Fodder and Frigg.

Wild untamed saucy abundance

Well, here we are,the roodmass has begun, summer is once more awakening.
Seasonal blessings to all that happen upon this, a time to lap up the abundant energy ,to love and laugh and to make passion become your fire.
It would seem, that here at least the May will reach its climax very close to the first of the month,the buds are on the branch but she still holds them tight, another day or two then BANG.
Unlike the other three, Beltane seems not to be governed by lunar tides alone, but remains balanced with the solar also, triggered very much by the natural energies of the world as a whole, the perfect union, as it very much should be.
The calendar only gives us a approximation of this one, the old OSS from his stable will come on the first of May, this often coincides with natures sometimes obliging power, but not always, my OSS was shod this morn.

The wild ones have departed for a time, to give the children a chance to grow, the calm has come and on at least this level things are at peace.
As with all children, the need to grow has become paramount , there is a different voice to be heard calling in the wind now, the child shouts "look at me, am I not beautiful, do I not hold the keys to all that is to come", and it does.

I have always been a creature of the darker months, taking joy in meeting the black rider, hearing the hounds tearing across a storm filled sky, now becomes a quieter time, a time for building, thinking, growing with natures offspring, a learning of different mysteries, the practical skills that will reap the harvest, the time for the other self in me.
Seedlings in the greenhouse need to move on and be re potted in order to grow, you and I like them must also move, or we ourselves will cease to grow and become stale, the stale loaf is still edible, it just doesn't taste as good.
The herbs and hedgerow greens are already fruitful here, wild garlic, sorrel and jack by the hedge,nettle leaf and purple sprout(last years planting) have been here for a while, last years final pumpkin bit the dust this week, its family progeny are at this moment needing a new bed, the wheel turns and I have to turn with it.

A different kind of love for the summer, anticipation toward the autumn harvest aside, summer evenings at the beach watching the solar disc descend into the underworld, visions of other places, mad evenings drinking with friends in the warm air(hopefully), prancing stupidly around the woods and slipping on the bluebells carelessly squashed underfoot, the joys of summer.

Finally my mind wanders to some dear friends of mine, who are to be wed on the first.
A very special couple who have found a love that is rare, the one, to them I send my blessings and all love and luck for the future, and if through effort we make our luck then theirs will be abundant like the like the abundance that whispers in this Beltane breeze.

Pagan rules and ducking stools, need not apply.

Well, another odd week has passed in the life of this Cunning one.

The tale begins with a thought on what magick is and then deteriorates into the virus led deluded ramblings about the lonely journey along the crooked path.A visit from some dear relatives who happen to be Christians brought about some thoughts on the subtle differences between "Traditional" magick, or spellcraft, gardnerian style "wiccan" magic and common church prayer.

Simple really, and as you may be aware, a subject I have already touched upon.

Basically ,Christian prayer and some forms of Wicca(yes they have become quite similar over the years) generally petition a Deity to act on the behalf of the petitioner, there is then some sacrifice or energy transfer bought about as some kind of divine payment in the case of Wicca, where as within the Semitic faiths the deity (the great master, lord or boss) is remarkably expected to come down and take action the Faithfull’s behalf, master acting as servant, an odd concept that I find difficult to get my head around.

The Crafter however does not petition the deity to act on his or her behalf, but undertakes the transformations personally; the only divine intervention might be one of strength or guidance, but apart from that the undertaking and responsibility falls to the individual or group.

So there you are, that is what I consider to be the subtle difference and I am not suggesting one works better than another, it is all about the suitability to individual.

This question and an inner ear infection bought about a rather melancholic musing on the loneliness involved within the Traditional path, certainly where the solitary practitioner is concerned, maybe less so for those within an established cuveen, the secretive nature of what is after all a mystery tradition has certain rules that must be adhered to.

One is, without over complicating it "thou shalt not blab", this is not to facilitate some kind of secrecy for the point of secrecy, this is very much to do with discipline and the value of the journey itself, to know the secrets is a part, it is the discovery of those keys that unlock the mysteries that will explain the knowledge, and as such have as much importance themselves, letting the cat out of the bag as it were may lessen the knowledge and experience sought by the true seeker, guidance by all means is good, preconception is not so.

I am currently alone in my journey, hopefully there will be some to join me soon as I have sent out the call, my partner has her own way of working and occasionally joins me, but she is on her road and I am upon mine, I find myself on occasion quite out in the cold.I have met and enjoyed the company of many great and powerful people in the past, many of which I am at least vaguely still in touch with, although at the earthly level there are few that I have met or I know of local to me that A. I would like to work with and B. that would like to work with me.A situation of my own making, I have lived and worked in many places, the result being that my Clan is spread to the four corners of this green and pleasant land.

This solitarily esoteric existence is one I happily choose, although it has made me look at the way the world perceives us, as “witches” we have always been outcasts, often feared by our communities and treated with varying degrees of suspicion, by church and to a lesser degree some pagans “that dark, left hand path etc”, that is until our skills and our tolerance of all faiths is called upon for the benefit there of, this has always been the price and always will, it is the way things are meant to be, someone has to clean up the rubbish, there will be no displays for the public , no book of shadows available in paper and hardbacked versions,and our society will remain behind the hidden door, where it belongs.

So, happy to be the outcasts we are, even in the lonley wasteland, our choice and happy to be we must be.

Remember the importance of friends and family, look to the travelling communities and see how they perceive such things with great love and reverence, when your life shifts from place to place these things can easily be left behind, without them you can lose an important part of yourself, there are parts of me still to be gathered in,at this time I only hope to save at least someone that pain.

On occasion, this witch would relish the contact of others upon a similar path and hopefully those pathways are under construction, this spy would sometimes like to come in from the cold!

One final thought, why did they swim witches in the times of persecution? The answer is again simple, it stands to reason, in a biblical scenario we are the survivors of the flood, the line of Cain not Seth. therefore we must float!

Me, I am Lilith’s man today.

FFF&F