Hekate – Her Sacred Fires

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Back in December last year I recieved an email asking if I would like to contribute to this anthology; it didn’t take a lot of thinking about to be honest. For a long time now my work with Hekate has lead me in very creative directions. So first an essay and then a peice of artwork swiftly followed. The release date of this book has now been announced and pre orders for what promises to be a mind blowing read are available from the 20th of May and is being published by Avalonia Books. To say I am excited and enthused about this project would be an understatement, from the little bits I have been lucky to see in production, I think this book will have something to offer to everybody, no matter how you experience the Goddess Hekate. I expect to also learn a lot about how others view and work with her as well and would encourage anybody with half an interest in this Goddess to get their sticky mits on a copy a.s.a.p. Of course for the cautious amongst you, I shall be reviewing it in a thorough and non biased manner as soon as I recieve my contributor copy šŸ˜‰

To co-incide with this labour of love, for that is what it is, over 45 contributors, that have written from just about every continent of the globe, the editor Sorita d’Este has written an organised a world wide ritual taking place on the 27th May 2010; the full moon, a very auspicious time if I may say so. The aim is to get as many people who either have an existing relationship with this deity or wish to learn more about her to perform this rite as a devotional offering. The precise details will be released here and also here on the 20th, the aim is to get at least 1000 people participating from all over the globe, but the more the merrier. I do hope to virtually see you all there.

Apparently its all about the journey.

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I was awake this morning at an even more obscene time than usual. I lay there in bed at 4am knowing full well that I wasn’t going back to sleep, but I thought I woud give it a bloody good go anyway. I failed.

The dream that had woken me was spinning around my head and it wasn’t going to let go even though conciousness had reclaimed my tentative grip on reality. Ive had a lot of odd dreams lately; Ive been informed that it is most likely to do with the current Mercury Retrograde and the article under the link might seem to indicate that this is true.

The dreams have all been very “Froud”, if you are not familiar with this name, that may not be surprising, yet I am convinced you will have seen his work, especially if you grew up in the ’80s, for Brian and Wendy Froud were the puppet designers and conceptual artists behind the fantastical and wonderful Dark Crystal and Labyrinth. I have always from the moment I saw these films, loved them deeply with a passion, a passion I was very quick to pass on to my daughter as soon as she was old enough to share. And yet even until 5 years ago I did not know the name Froud; it was only when I was deeply embedded in Mythology and Folklore and was, at that point, particularly interested in the human interaction between the Fae and Humanity, that the name arose. I can’t remember who it was, but somebody said to me, if you want to know what the fairies look like, go no further than Froud, because if anybody can see them, then its him.

My dream tonight was all about the Labyrinth, I suppose you could say it was a semi lucid dream for I was stood outside the walls of the Labyrinth and thought, Oh I’m dreaming, and this is the Labyrinth, I know exactly what I have to do. And with that I stepped straight through into the Labyrinth, by-passing the worm in the wall and headed straight for the Castle of the Goblin king. But when I reached the Castle it has turned into a huge shopping mall selling everykind of Labyrinth memorabilia you could imagine, cups, keyrings, mousmats, plushie toys, you name it, they had it. And the arcade was full of people frantically buying up everything in sight. Like the gift shop in a theme park, people buying tat, any tat, material things to create memories they never had. And it occurred to me, if I spent my dream here, I would be no better, grasping for things and never truly experiencing anything. I had to go back to the beginning, I had to do it “right”.

If you view Magick as not so much spells and witchery but more inline with Crowley’s definition in Book 4:

Magick is the Science of understanding oneself and one’s conditions. It is the Art of applying that understanding in action

Then like Sarah, you must from time to time wander the wrong road that the singularly unhelpful Worm sends you on, meet the selfish yet essentially good hearted Hoggle, experience the simple nature of friendship with Ludo, understand the frenetic nature of the Fire Gang, the fierce honor of Sir Didymus, listen to the foolish Wiseman and his internal (or in the case of the film – external) ramblings, and be tempted by the glamour of the essentially powerless Jareth. Sarah’s journey is not about finding her little brother, it is about finding herself. And if we wish to do the same it is a journey we all must take.

Or to put it another way, don’t head for the souvenir shop, head for the rollercoaster instead.

I’m going slightly mad.

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I have a beautiful journal, it is leather bound, the pages are a creamy yellow colour. The reason I like this journal is that it has a little place at the top of each page to insert the appropriate date and time, so you only need to write in it when appropriate, I used to use a page per day diary but that would often frustrate me, some days I needed more than a page, sometimes I might not write anything down for days.

I am not a daily journal keeper. I’m not a morning person either, yet some how in the last fortnight I have found myself getting up at increasingly more obscene hours of the morning to expand on some recieved work from the Lady Hekate.

Im very organised, knowing my weaknesses and how totally disfunctional I am at silly o clock in the morning I make sure I have everything ready the night before, candles, meditation stool, no floor for me at the moment I am afraid due to a rather nasty ankle injury that seems to be taking forever to heal, tarot cards if neccessary, journal and pen.

The very first thing I do is write the date, moon phase and time of the work in that little slot at the top of the page that I am so fond of. I always start a new page, even if the previous page only has a few lines on it, each peice of work, each day in fact to my mind requires a clean sheet. I always do this, no exceptions. Its too easy to start scribbling other wise in years to come you will look back and wonder when the notes referred to. Its also a good ready reckoner for spotting patterns too, you can see if your more sensitive to recieved work, for example, at certain times of the month or even times of the day. You can use this to better plan any subsequent work. Actually the uses are too many for me to go into here. That isn’t what this post is about.

So there I was this morning, I sat and wrote the appropriate headings, did the work that I needed to do, picked up my journal and looked around for my pen. The resounding message from todays work was, “It’s not enough to just write about it, you must experience it”, I felt it was worthy of note for a number of reasons. For myself, as somebody who draws heavily from academic texts it can be way too easy to fixate on my bookish nature and not actually “do” or “be”. Now some may argue that sincere and heartfelt research in the persuit of gnosis is an act of magick in its own right. But I disagree with that to some extent, somethings you have to actually do to really understand the mechanics, take driving a car for example, you can read a manual, study the highway code, you can even pass the theory test; but you really do not understand what driving is until you get behind the wheel and you can only comprehend the finer nuances with repeated practise and experience.

I grappled for the pen in the half light, and it wasn’t there, I moved the journal, it wasn’t there, I felt under and around my meditation stool and yes, you got it, it wasn’t there. I decided to finish up, find the pen which I had convinced myself must have just rolled under a chair or something. I looked everywhere, I even went out into the garden, wondering if one of my feline friends has snuck in whilst I was away with the fairies and stolen my pen and taken it away to play with. Three quarters of an hour I looked for that damn pen, eventually I laughed and gave up; after all perhaps for today I would just experience it rather than write about it.

I shuffled upstairs with a coffee in my hand, wandered into the bathroom where my daughter was cleaning her teeth. Mummy she said, through a foamy mouth of minty paste, why have you got a pen in your hair?

Taking note of the signs

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Some days magick just isn’t on the cards, and perhaps it is a wiser person than me that recognises these signs. I maybe should have taken note when my bank suddenly had no record of my details and after a long conversation the account was unearthed with with incorrect, address, d.o.b and mothers maiden name. Maybe I should have taken note when running my pre ritual bath the water turned a putrid yellow. Maybe even the point should have got through when the neighbours who barely say more than “Morning” on a day to day basis invited me in for a cuppa when I popped round to warn them about the water, all of this conspiring to leave me less and less prepared for the task looming imminently ahead of me.

But Im a stubborn person and Im no stranger to the whole anything that can go wrong will go wrong pre ritual catastrophe, so I settled down in the dying light to perform my designated task, and then it came. Not angry, not irritated or impatient, just a firm statement. “This is not for you, there are other things going on, you do not need to be here” Maybe I should have taken note then, but I had commited to this work so I continued on, outside interferance is also not an unknown occurance. “Did you not get the hint earlier” at this point it was almost a sigh like a tired parent trying really hard not to be annoyed with an over precocious child. “Ok you can carry on, but you will just be going through the motions”. So I quickly and quietly withdrew.

To be honest this was a new experience in its own right, Im not used to being told to sod off, especially when the work was expressly sanctioned by herself. I sat quietly for a minute wondering what it was that I did wrong, wondering if my scrambling around and dithering with the mundane earlier in the day had been the catalyst for what I felt was a “ticking off”. A few minutes later, I decided that I wasn’t going to get an immediate answer so cleared up and prepared to perform a license to depart, I use a stock formula, probably recognisable by well, just about anybody of a particular school of thought, “I call upon any spirits here present trapped here by these my magickal rites, to return unto their rightful place, harming none along the way, but being prepared to return if I should call” at which point the neighbours cat which adopted me some six months ago charged out the bushes and practically knocked me over in his attempt to jump in my lap. Giggles I am afraid took the best of me, but you know what, that is okay too, banishing with laughter is a very valid tool in its own right. Lets face it any of you who may have attempted the Sparean inspired death posture and the drawing of obsessions through a mirror will know that even if you can attempt it successfully, when you finally catch sight of yourself in the mirror your going to laugh at the sheer obsurdity of it; its like an in built fail safe mechanism, laughter really is a beautiful thing.

Anyway later the laughter continued, perhaps it needed to, I have still yet to find out, but just as I was settling down to type my notes up, my smallest timidest cat (actually is timidest a real word?) came to me and dropped a present at my feet, the biggest bumble bee I have ever seen, it must have been as long as my thumb. I bent to pick up this treasured gift from a loyal companion, percieving it to be a sad and broken offering, bereft at the loss of life but inderstanding that this is the nature of all things and honored that my tiny wee girl who is normally scared of the shadow of her own tail should choose to share such victory with me. When it roused it self crawled through my fingers and flew into the air.

I jumped to open the french windows at the back of the lounge onto what was now almost a completely dark night, hoping beyond hope that this brave surviour would find its way out, yet knowing that to encourage him to do so would be condemning this little soul to a certain doom, bees rarely survive in the dark outside the hive, especially at this time of the year, if they are lucky they find a warm place to hole up until the morning and then try and find thier way home. An uncertain feat nowadays, as there is much debate and discussion in the agricultural communities, some people believe the bees have lost their ability to waggle dance, which is percieved as not only a road map for good nectar but the indicators for a safe round trip home.

This lovely visitor has chosen to reside the night in the safety of my home and has tucked itself in the warmth behind one of my wall lights, in the morning I shall open all the doors and windows in the hopes that it finds its way. But a good friend told me a tale this evening a tale that perhaps I should take note of, the story fo melissa.

Apparently the minoan-mycenean “Mistress” goddess Potnia, who named her priestesses “Melissa” meaning Bee, was also associated in later times due to her epithet of “Mistress of the Beasts” with Artemis, a deity who was very much syncretised with Hekate especially in the PGM. And of course those who are familiar with herself will know that there is an undeniable if unprovable connection with Hekate and the Minoan Snake goddess who may have once been called Ariadne the daughter of Helios.

Interesting in its own right as in certain recensions Medea is the grand daughter of helios and a priestess of Hekate; Ariadne also aided Theseus to overcome the minotaur when he took shelter in an old womans hut of (amongst other things) the woman, “hecale” possibly the only time I might even suggest that my titaness might be a crone but as I have written elsewhere the gods were only old and ugly if they were hiding out or had a plan see here.

Thoughts on Mystics

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So the migration appears to have gone well, the final test is this first post; so here goes. Ive been wondering what my next entry will be, Ive been mulling it over in my head for some time, Ive read quite a few books recently, some new, some old, some I enjoyed, others I most certainly did not, so had been contemplating sticking up some book reviews, tomorrow was going to be the day I sat down and started writing them all.

But I woke this morning thinking of St. Teresa of Avila, for the life of me I have no clue why, I have admired her as a woman and a mystic for a number of years. I encountered her work in what could be considered a peculiar manner, it wasn’t in a local catholic shop, cathedral gift shop or even christian bookshop and it wasn’t online. I found a couple of hardback copies of a 1989 translation of The Interior Castle sitting in a case snuggled in with such things as the Gnostic Gospels, Pistis Sophia, the Bhagavad Gita and the Koran in my local occult bookshop, I suppose it could have been considered the alternative spirituality shelf much like you would find in any mainstream bookshop, just with a twist.

I picked it up and looked at the owner questioningly, “What’s this?”, I asked. “Oh its very good you should really read it”. Now I knew the owner relatively well at this point, enough to have occasional coffee and social drinks with at least, but wasn’t always sure at that point when he was yanking my chain, so I looked at him again, over the top of my glasses; “No seriously, read it, its got some really good stuff in it, I’m not taking the mick, have I ever sold you a crap book?” And no he hadn’t, not once had he tried to push on me any of the glossy covered mass produced paperbacks that graced the shelves at the front of the shop; by authors with such names as Platinum Magpie Canis Lupus or other equally ridiculous epithets.

So I bought it and took it home, and I loved it; Ive picked it up many times since and no matter how many times I do so, I always seem to find something that I can use to better myself and in turn my practise. I believe all mystics regardless of their personal doctrine have something to teach and it is a shallow fool who would throw the baby out with the bath water and reject what might be life altering knowledge because of the context in which it is set. But hey I am a bit weird like that, Ive had a deep suspicion for a while, that Hekate may actually be the mother Barbelo in the Secret Gospels of John, but that is a whole other can of worms that probably shouldn’t be opened right now, suffice to say waking up this morning and going to the shelf to peruse what is really just a very little book got me going down a whole train of thought regarding female mystics, so who next I wonder, Julian of Norwich or Hildegard of Bingen, thoughts anybody?

Just a quick update

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Ive not forgotten about this blog; although it has been a very busy festive season, but I am in the process of trying to work out how to migrate the entire site to another server without losing everything here and having to start again from scratch so I’m not putting any more posts up until Im done, that way if it goes pear shaped its less work restoring the lot. The migration should be complete in the next week and if all goes well you won’t even notice it has happened as the URL will be remaining the same.

Accessing A Current Pt I – Thoughts on initiation

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Ive been pondering a lot recently the concept of initiation, initiatory rites and and the transmission of Magickal currents, so I was trawling through some stuff I wrote a few years back regarding the subject, I thought I would share if I may:

Ive been thinking about initiation, not so much about the great wiccan/Wiccan debate and the validity of self initiation, but more the implications of such actions. But I suppose, loathe as I am to do it, we need to look at the purpose of initiation.

Talking to hardliners, they will tell you that you cannot access the mysteries unless you have been initiated into what ever the Trad is that you are claiming to be. Now I tend to think they are both very right and horrifically wrong. These so called ā€œinitiations into the mysteriesā€ in my opinion is just the vehicle with which a particular group accesses a magical current.

Iā€™ve been struggling with the term ā€œmagical currentā€ and how to explain it. As a priestess of my chosen path, I can feel it and use it, but it is harder to convey in mere words, but I think I have come up with a good analogy.

If we consider magic to be much like the entirety of the light spectrum, some wavelengths are accessible by everybody and are there to be used, we could liken this to the visible spectrum of light. But further, with careful training and appropriate ā€œfiltersā€ put in place it might be possbile to access the invisible spectrums, ultraviolet, infrared, microwave etc. Different groups will tap different parts of these unseen spectrums and this is thier current and ā€œtransmissionā€ of the way to access these spectrums are formalised in the initiation ritual.

Now it is perfectly possible as a solitaire to also access these currents; in fact there is some basis for the argument that by being a solitaire this allows a freedom not enjoyed by others who maybe either through ignorance or deliberate choice are limited to a singular current and nothing else.

The problem arises as to what current the solitaire is actually accessing though; for example: Solitaire A decides to self initiate, and either through luck or hard work successfully accesses a part of (or even the entirety of) one or more magical currents, but what she has accessed is Luciferian rather than Wiccan (which is what they are after), what should they call themselves? They will know they are accessing something, they may even believe it is Wiccan, but without anybody to share the experience with they will have no clue as to what they have.

It then gets more complicated, what if Solitaire A actually accesses the current they are after, then finds a suitable Coven of the lineage they are hankering after. Should thier existing link to the current then entitle them to a ā€œfast trackā€ scenario, especially if it is also obvious that they have put in the prerequisite practical and academic work in?

Lets say this happens and Solitaire A quickly makes it through their neophyte grade as a result of partial access, but they also have partial access as a result of thier self initiation to an other current. How will that affect the coven they are working with, this stuff is pretty viral you know, so then all of a sudden does the Coven have the right to claim thier name as associated with that current? Or should that part of the neophyte be ā€œpurgedā€ for the sake of lineage and purity?

Tricky isnā€™t it? I do not profess to know the answer to any of it, my knee jerk feeling is that self initiation is perfectly possible and totally valid, as long as you do not claim to be of a named current (after all you will not really know if the current is the right one). If you feel like you need a name, call it yours, give it, itā€™s own name. After all that is what most of the big names in times gone by did.

I am not in a position to run a group, but the time is drawing nearer and nearer, and I suppose at some point I am going to have to discuss this with those older and wiser than me, but as for embracing or exterminating access to other currents brought in by self initiated neophytes; my gut says that as long as it isnā€™t at the complete other end of the spectrum or destructive, it should be integrated in a manner that benefits all. Thatā€™s how witches/magicians grow and progress, rather than becoming stale and dogmatic.

But of course all this is just my personal opinion and your mileage may vary.