March 17th, 2016

Happy St. Patrick's Day! A lot of my spring break so far has been consumed by homework, and a lot of the rest consumed by cleaning. We're getting new carpet tomorrow, and we've had to take everything off of our shelves and other pieces of furniture, getting them out of the way for the carpet install. Most of our possessions are currently occupying the garage, and my things in particular are stacked up in the computer room, which has laminate wood flooring.

Since we were taking everything out and cleaning anyway, I figured this was a good time to do some heavy-duty space clearing. I started off doing all the physical work - vacuuming thoroughly, dusting everything off, moving furniture that hasn't been moved in 10 years to clean behind it, etc. I finished that up today, and then decided I was going to open the windows, play some music off my Pagan playlist, and use a shaker of mine to break up stagnant or negative energy.

Well, things were going great, my room was cleared, I was jamming with my shaker, and I had just finished driving all that unwanted energy to the front door to banish it outside, when my shaker broke in half and spilled plastic beads all over the floor. Apparently, the effort of space clearing was too much for the cheap glue holding it together. I swept up, finished chasing the stagnant stuff out the door with the broom, and then decided I was going to fix my little instrument.

I replaced the plastic beads with barley (for Athena) and short grain Japanese rice (for Amaterasu), and hot glued it back together. I think it actually sounds better now.

I finished up by using a bell to invoke positive energy, and not leave a void in my room. I'll have to go around after the new carpet is in to really build in some protective enchantments and whatnot.

March 31st, 2013

I was reading a book today about the Japanese Tea Ceremony, called (somewhat obviously) The Book of Tea. To illustrate a point, the author, Okakura Tenshin, related a traditional Japanese parable. I so enjoyed it that I thought I'd share it here:

The Taming of the Harp

Once in the hoary ages in the Ravine of Lungmen stood a Kiri tree, a veritable king of the forest. It reared its head to talk to the stars; its roots struck deep into the earth, mingling their bronzed coils with those of the silver dragon that slept beneath. And it came to pass that a mighty wizard made from this tree a wondrous harp, whose stubborn spirit should be tamed but by the greatest of musicians. For long the instrument was treasured by the Emperor of China, but all in vain were the efforts of those who in turn tried to draw melody from the strings. In response to their utmost strivings there came from the harp but harsh notes of disdain, ill-according with the songs they fain would sing. The harp refused to recognize a master.
At last came Peiwoh, the prince of harpists. With tender hand he caressed the harp as one might seek to soothe an unruly horse, and softly touched the chords. He sang of nature and the seasons, of high mountains and flowing waters, and all the memories of the tree awoke! Once more the sweet breath of spring played amidst its branches. The young cataracts, as they danced down the ravine, laughed to the budding flowers. Anon were heard the dreamy voices of summer with its myriad insects, the gentle pattering of rain, the wail of the cuckoo. Hark! a tiger roars - the valley answers again. It is autumn; in the desert night, sharp like a sword gleams the moon upon the frosted grass. Now winter reigns, and through the snow-filled air swirl flocks of swans and rattling hailstones beat upon the boughs with fierce delight. 
Then Peiwoh changed the key and sang of love. The forest swayed like an ardent swan deep lost in thought. On high, like a haughty maiden, swept a cloud bright and fair; but passing, trailed long shadows on the ground, black like despair. Again the mode was changed; Peiwoh sang of war, of clashing steel and trampling steeds. And in the harp rose the tempest of Lungmen, the dragon rode the lightning, the thundering avalanche crashed through the hills. In ecstacy the Celestial monarch asked Peiwoh wherein lay the secret of his victory. 
"Sire," he replied, "others have failed because they sang but of themselves. I left the harp to choose its theme, and knew not truly whether the harp had been Peiwoh or Peiwoh were the harp."

I liked the story for a couple of reasons: the evocative language and beautiful description of nature, and that moral that those who do best are those who are humble. I also thought (did anyone else do the same?) that the description of the tree in that first paragraph could be easily employed as the basis for a grounding and centering meditation. Maybe that's just the nerd Pagan in me. ;D

November 6th, 2011

While my mom and dad don't really mind my religious choice, they still expect me to go with them to church and to participate and whatnot. As such, I have been helping with the preschoolers' Sunday School. Today, the craft we did was so Pagan I couldn't help but smile to myself. The kids made shakers out of two paper bowls filled with grains (corn, rice, and barley) and then decorated the outside with a printed-and-cut-out picture of a woman holding grains. She was supposed to be Ruth or something from the Bible, but all I could think was the Goddess at Lammas. Obviously, it's a little late in the season for harvest activities, but come next Mabon or Lammas, this could be a really cute craft for Pagan kids. They sound a lot like rainsticks when shaken, so one could even devise a small, kid-friendly ritual where you make these shakers and shake them to "rain" abundance (symbolized by the grain) on the household. It also gives the little ones fun instruments to use in ritual that won't break the bank to replace if something were to happen to them.

In other news, I want to decorate my altar for Yule today, after I finish this post and get off the computer. Pictures, anyone?