Diary - Badger Stone

Days of Note: Flamekeeping

Sun: leo (fixed fire), 6:10 AM - 8:43 PM
Moon: waning crescent, taurus (fixed earth)
Earth: hot and gray most of the day, with skies clearing to steamy blue later in the afternoon, at least a bit cooler than the past several days when we've had a heat advisory in effect and stiffing weather

Badger Stone

During my flamekeeping shift this time, I wanted to work more with Badger, especially considering my intuition that Badger has some kind of relationship with Brighid (though I'm not sure exactly what). Another connection that occurred to me last night as I was hillwalking (more on that in a moment) is that Lady Gregory describes the goddess Brighid as having a face which is half fair and beautiful, and half dark and hideous — and though it is not divided down the middle in half, because of the black-and-white strips you could think of Badger, too, as having both a light and a dark face.

So before my shift began last night, I went hillwalking through the woods with the intention of finding a stone for Badger to sit on my altar. I had gotten it into my head at some point that it was vital to find an icon or statue of some kind for Badger to "live in" on my altar, an object I could involve in ritual and give offerings to — and so I'd spent some time over the last week looking online for a suitable item. I found a few ceramic figurines and such, and one or two carved out of wood and painted, but none seemed to suit. Then the idea occurred to me that finding a stone to decorate on my own would be the best idea — I started referring to it as a "Badger Stone" and that just seemed right and fitting. So last night after dinner, about an hour before sunset and the start of my flamekeeping shift, I headed out into the woods to search for a stone, most likely from the cave that overlooks the ravine near the rock outcropping where I like to sit and meditate. I asked Brighid to guide my steps as I went, and I took along my pouch of herbal and seed offerings as well as a small jar of water to pour in libation to the land. I also brought along my iPod; I just downloaded some drumming audio to help with journey work, and one of the songs I found was from an album dedicated to different animal spirits and totems, this song for Badger. I put this song on repeat to listen to while I walked.

The trance state I ended up in was pretty intense, thanks in part to the drumming and in part to the intense heat. Walking through the woods was practically like being in a sweat lodge in any case, especially as I got into the dimmer areas back in the forest aways, and I was dripping sweat and pretty deep in a meditative state while I walked. I had the visceral, powerful experience of being able to "see" the spirits of things around me, faces peering at me from the trees and stones and fallen logs and bits of bramble and underbrush — not my imagination, but like the chaotic natural patterns of texture, light and shadow resolving themselves into very clear faces and shapes that didn't go away even after a second, closer look.

This actually made choosing a stone a bit difficult, because I was hoping to be strolling along waiting for a particular stone to jump out at me... but instead, every single stone I saw seemed to be alive and aware, asserting itself in my presence. Instead of being able to just pick up whatever stone appealed to me, I found myself having to use discernment and actually assess the character or presence of the stones, inquiring which would be amenable to becoming an altar object and "home" for Badger. Some stones just had too much self-presence to be appropriate (including one that seemed to practically beg to be brought back, so much that I almost chose it in the end, but then decided against it). When I made it to the place near the cave, I took a step or two off the path towards the entrance, and almost immediately saw a stone that looked perfect. I bent down and picked it up, then sat in the entrance to the cave for a time holding the stone and asking permission from the stone itself, the land and finally from Badger if this would be an appropriate stone to work with. At one point, Badger seemed to put his paw on top of the stone in my hand and weigh it down slightly so that I felt a warmth and pressure, as though he were trying to bring it closer for examination. Just after this, I noticed a pattern in the texture of the stone itself that seemed to be a face — like that of an old man — peering out at me, and I asked if he was the stone's spirit and, if so, if he was willing to either share his home with Badger or remain in the woods with the other stones. I felt like I couldn't get a clear answer — so I decided I would bring the stone back with me and do some discernment work through meditation during my actual flamekeeping ritual at sunset. So I left a small scattering of offerings at the place where I found the stone, and poured a libation there too (in part hoping to sort of coax the stone's spirit to stay in the woods and take up a new home there), and then I headed home.

When I got back home, I drank a ton of water and had some chocolate to help ground me and come out of trance. It did help immensely, though it took longer to get back to a normal state of consciousness than I was anticipating (I even saw the faces in the water rippling within my glass as I drank — how hard it is to eat or drink anything, or even leave offerings, when absolutely everything seems so alive and sentient and bursting with presence!).

About half an hour later, I got everything prepared for my flamekeeping ritual, lit my candles and incense and did my usual routine of prayers and welcome to Brighid as I begun my shift. This time, I also asked her help on this creative project that I was hoping to do during my shift this round. I took a moment to go into the bathroom and scrub down the stone I'd found and cleanse it in a mundane way — and then I came back to the altar and spend time smudging and cleansing it with incense smoke and Awen-breaths, turning it over and over so that the smoke clung and spiraled around it in the candle light. It was quite beautiful! While doing this, I did some light meditation seeking to know if this was a good stone for the work I intended. At one point, as I turned the stone over in my hands, I glimpsed it at an angle I hadn't seen it at before, and there in the dancing shadows made by the candle and the texture of the stone itself was a badger face peering at me! So I took that as the signal that yes, this would be a good stone to use after all.

After cleansing and smudging it, I did a Three Realms Working to connect with the energies of the land, sky and sea and blessed and changed the stone. I finished up my flamekeeping ritual and set the stone on the shelf above my bed next to the still-lit candle that would remain lit all night as part of my shift. (This may not have been a great idea — or perhaps I didn't ground well enough after my ritual work — because I found it difficult to sleep all night and tossed and turned with excess energy.)

This afternoon after Jeff took the kids back to their mom's, I returned to the work. I set up the paints and everything I would need, and I browsed some pictures of badgers online to make sure I knew what I was going for. Then, I put on my iPod again with the Badger drumming song on repeat, and got to work. First I traced an outline of Badger on a sheet of paper in pencil based on some of the images I'd found and the texture and contours of the stone, then I transferred the drawing to the stone itself with a pencil, which I then went over again with a thin black permanent marker. Next, I painted the white layer, followed by the black, and at last the nose and two small brown eyes. In between each coat/color, I allowed the paint to dry while meditating in light trance and smudging the stone further with incense burning nearby. The stone was almost complete — but I'd left the eyes a plain brown, not yet giving them black pupils. At this point, I stopped and made offerings to Badger, slicing off a hunk of chocolate and cracking open a beer to pour (these being pretty much the best food in the house at the moment), also eating a small piece of chocolate and taking a small sip of beer for myself to honor the place within myself where I would make a welcome home for Badger.

I then closed the curtains, turned off the lights and closed my eyes, going into deeper trance to the sound of the drums and seeking to present the stone to Badger for approval before putting on the finishing touch and bringing the stone "alive." I spent about fifteen minutes in trance, during which time I went to the Angel Oak tree, called to Badger and then followed him trundling through woods and field back to his burrow, where he seemed to be gathering himself up and straightening things as though in preparation. After a while of this, Badger turned to me and once again put a damp, heavy paw on my upturned palm where I held the almost-finished stone. This time, when he removed his paw, it left a wet, damp paw mark that seemed to absorb into the stone itself. He seemed to smile and laugh and joke about the "likeness" of the stone — and then we came back together and I danced him for a while in my own body (though I have to admit, Badger seems to expect a sense of rhythm and coordination from me that I don't possess!). After dancing Badger for a short time, I invited him into the stone itself. I put the finishing touches on the stone by giving the eyes dark pupils. I blessed the stone again with three Awen-breaths, and as the incense was just burning down, I headed outside into the backyard to place the plate of offerings amongst the flowers in the garden bed. While outside, I got the feeling that Badger wanted to be "introduced" to the world in his new stone, so I held the stone to each of the four directions with greetings of peace and blessings from the East, South, West and North, as well as the presence of the Three Realms.

Then I headed back inside to write this journal entry. It's about an hour and a half until sundown and the end of my flamekeeping shift, so I may write a follow-up post then (or maybe not). I feel as though I haven't done any divination in a while, so I might do a drawing... or maybe not. We'll see. This work on the Badger Stone feels like it's taken a lot out of me, so I might just rest for the remainder of the evening.

Below is a picture of the completed Badger Stone.

DOTR Lesson 2: Sea

It began with a few tenuous notes turning and echoing out across the waters, the keening of the violin striving against its own tension and yearning. I was there, on the same familiar rocky cliff that curved in around a small bay, the dark waters of the ocean stretching out far beneath me. The murmuring wash of waves among the pebbles of the beach below, rocking in rhythm until the music faded again into silence.

Above me, the stars began to slip out into the night, one by one, as though disrobing from the dark veils of the night sky. One by one, they turned and shot a gasp of brilliance blazing out in a spiny halo of light around them, then pulled back again, glistening and humming with a silent energy. I lifted my head to ask them for their wisdom. It seemed as though one beckoned to me, glimmering more brightly than the rest. The vertigo of a wild night sky thrown open from horizon to horizon swept over me as my gravity seemed to shift — and then before me, solid as stone it seemed, a staircase spiraled upwards into the starscape. Step by step I climbed, my feet steady, my eyes on the scattered specks of light. Each step fell thick and heavy as though on stone draped over with the deep, plush fabric of night and darkness and stillness. As I reached the final stair, the star before me stepped close as a woman, dark and brilliant with features that seemed to shift as she turned, as though I gazed into her eyes from across countless light years. She smiled, and lifted her hand to caress my cheek and temple.

Then all at once, her other hand was at my throat, grasping my jaw firmly. With one quick motion she wrenched my face away, palm hard against my forehead, and I felt my spine snap as my body crumpled beneath her hard, cold fingers.

My body tumbled as it fell from the sky, loose and undone. I felt almost relaxed, my body buffeted and slowed by the wind, as though some tension in me had snapped and let me drop. I fell like a limp dead thing, which is what I was, and when I hit the ocean's surface, it gave way with almost as little resistance as the air, opening its dark mouth in a crater-like wave that closed over me again as I sank down beneath the waters.

Down and down I sank, making no attempt to swim or even draw a breath. My body became as heavy and dark as the oceans themselves, and creatures glided past me in the dark glistening a wet gold, slipping in and out of sight almost like stars. It seemed to me that all this time, I could see the stars shining above me, above the surface of the water, though only dimly — so dim that perhaps it was no more than a memory. My body lay on the rough bottom of the sea for a long while, its limbs swayed only by the slow, sluggish motions of the currents. I do not remember making the decision to move again — and maybe it was only the ocean itself that gradually pushed and pulled and turned me towards the shore — but eventually I found myself on hands and knees, stumbling and crawling up the pebbled beach, waves dragging at me as I gasped and sought for a hold.

Exhausted, I could not go far, but sat just above the highest reach of the waves where they ran themselves out between the wet, rounded stones. I sat for a while, catching my breath as it returned and letting the ocean water drip from me until I found I was quite dry, though chilled beneath the night sky once more. Then down the beach came the white hound, old companion of this place, bounding with joyful greeting towards me. I flung my arms around her in an embrace and buried my face and hands in her warm, dog-scented fur. Life, with that warmth and panting breath and bounding joy, began to return to me and I felt happy and grateful to have found her again after so long an absence.

Yet, in the midst of our joyous reunion, she stopped — and a low growl began to build in her throat. At first, I thought she was growling at me, and a moment of panic at another betrayal swept through me. But then I realized she was looking past me, towards a figure that loomed up out of the dark some ways down the beach. I turned and ventured closer — the dark figure outlined against the sky seemed huge and thin, featureless as worn stone, and I soon realized it was not a person, but a statue: a thin, lank, faceless man standing on a dais, like an oscar carved from rock and weathered by the sea and wind. I turned to reassure the white hound by my side, who glanced up at me with a look of that showed a clear dislike for the figure — then the dog squatted and pissed on the dais and trotted off up the beach again as though her sentiments had been made clear. I followed her back to where we had been, and sat down once more on the pebbly shore, the dog curled up on my left while my hand ran over her long, white fur in gentle strokes.

Then there was the dark star goddess beside me again, sitting with her knees drawn up to her chest, feet bare against the wet rocks, the hem of her deep blue robes clinging with damp to the stone. I was not afraid, but comforted as she drew my head down to rest on her shoulder and she stroked my cheek again just as I stroked the dog's warm fur. Though she did not say a word to me, I came to understand the killing blow she'd dealt me was not a violence or punishment, but her gift to me: a change in perspective that sent me plummeting into the depths. Too many are striving towards the stars, climbing those steep ladders and struggling with all their might towards the heights to catch a glimpse of something marvelous.

She turned a little so that we could look one another in the eye. Sitting there on the beach, she was barely taller than I was, her face shifting in and out of shadow, her eyes shining, her hair seeming sometimes wet and dark as to be almost black in long, flowing locks, and sometimes like a liquid fire, deep amber and auburn, strands curling and licking along the pale, perfect skin of her face and shoulders like tongues of flame. Leaning forward, she pressed her little lips against my forehead in a lingering kiss. I felt the warmth of that kiss seep into the depths of me, blossoming and opening outwards from within. The sky above me seemed expansive and infinite in the darkness. The ocean spread like a black, rippling plain of reflected starlight so vast and great and deep that it stole all breath from my body. The stone and earth below me shuddered with solidity and power, hard and warm and heavy like a great weight on which I walked like some delicate, fragile thing. The three realms loomed in majesty, surrounding me in glory where I sat stunned in awe on the threshold, that liminal space where land and sea meet sky. I was so utterly small — and yet, a witness to this greatness, I held all this in the intimacy of my own body, concentrated and unfurling through the three realms, the elements of my being a microcosm of this larger world.

The goddess of starlight and transformation leaned away from me, a small, slight figure full of power and primordial energy churning in the dark. This is it, she seemed to say, this is what you are here for. To be the witness to the wild, overwhelming wonder of the world — to be small and simple beneath the sky, to drift light and buoyant upon the sea, to dance fragile and always half-rootless across the land. No other view is better than this one right here, no other view is meant for you. You cannot become big by strife and struggle. You can only participate in the vastness of creation, you can only join in relationship with the greatness of the world, by staying here to attend to your place in it with openness and gratitude. You are not in service to your self alone; you are in the service of greater things than you.

The kiss lingered still, flooding my senses with the slow opening of light and energy and song. I felt as though I were slipping into deeper trance... yet soon I found myself opening my eyes, the meditation over, the mundane room around me and the candle flickering in its holder, amber-rose in the bright sunlight thrown in slanted rays across the coffee table. Still, the energy flowed through me, and the vision remained.

DOTR Lesson 2: Earth

Photographs from Frick Park woods and nature preserve, Pittsburgh, PA

DOTR Lesson 2: Earth

Do not be selfish with your life.
Do not waste your days
inventing ways to change the world
to suit your small ideas.
Do this:
Go out under the open, cloudless sky
and listen to the silence of autumn.
Sit on the rock where once someone carved
a serpent and a star, worn now
by the rain and half-covered
with fallen leaves.
In the sun, your skin is hot
with the pulse of your blood.
In the shade, your skin is cool
with the tides of your breath.
And you are made of this,
flux and form, shifting
in the sunlight of the silent afternoon.
Do this:
Sit on the rock and watch
as the low sun moves
without moving
between the dark
columns of the trees.
Let the fly alight
on your upturned hand
and nuzzle your thumb
where it shimmers, the ridges
of your fingerprints rippling
under its furry, iridescent paws.
An eye studded with diamonds.
Wings translucent, opalescent,
like the cells of your body
woven through with black veins.
There is nothing that moves
in this world but this fly,
who comes and goes despite
the nearness of winter
and thinks nothing
but that the flesh of your body
is soft and sweet-smelling
and sturdy enough, and good.
Do this one thing:
do not be selfish with your life.
Do not imagine that this moment
is somehow less than the dreams
you carry with you, or the silence
into which the fly eventually
wanders, unafraid.
The sun slips behind another tree.
Look up and see, illuminated in
webs of twigs and tree limbs
against the shadowed hills beyond,
the same iridescent pattern
of the fly's wing
in the forest.
Bright twining world,
you do not owe us anything
but this.

Earth/Stars

Be humble for you are made of earth;
Be noble for you are made of stars.

(Serbian proverb.)

Brigid of Amber, Brigid of the Stars

I frequent a forum called The Cauldron, where I belong to a flamekeeping Cill dedicated to the goddess Brigid. I began flamekeeping with them just before Imbolc of last year. (Mine is the third day in the rotation of twenty, and my shift has fallen more than once on days of special personal significance to me — which others have told me often happens during the first year of flamekeeping for a new Cill member.)

Recently, some wonderful and fascinating discussions have been going on in the Celtic Polytheism SIG, "Hazel and Oak," focusing on Brigid of the Forge as a creatrix/star goddess. The conversation has sparked (no pun intended) the suggestion of designing a group ritual. I want to plunge in and get involved in this work, journaling some of my thoughts and potential liturgical ideas on this blog, so I thought I would just mention this as an introduction for future reference.

I'll add to this later, but for now, here is a response I posted to the forum tonight, regarding the possibility brought up by others (and echoed in my own personal ritual experiences over the summer) of amber being a "stone" sacred to Brigid.

Part of the reason I did the three gifts meditation was to prepare for my trip to Northern Ireland (for a spiritual retreat focused on peace activism and social justice), and I was hoping for some images/icons to "carry with me" to meditate on during my time there. When the shadowy, robed figure outlined against the flames of the sacred fire reached into the heart of the fire and handed to me a droplet of amber, I think I actually laughed out loud in the middle of the ritual.

It suddenly seemed so obvious to me: first and foremost, amber as a "stone" of living fire or fire-in-water, the life-blood of the tree borne of the intermingling of the underground waters drawn up from the roots and the sunlight cascading down from the sky, cupped and drunk by the leaves. The prayer I use during my flamekeeping shifts begins: "Fire and water in the earth of my body, I keep your sacred flame." Amber as the sap or resin of ancient trees seemed like the perfect symbol of this idea.

And then, of course, is the fact that amber is especially well-known for containing the preserved remains of ancient insects, some of which contain the blood/DNA of ancient animals. So in another way, amber represented the "preservation and protection of life" and the continuation of ancient traditions and primordial energies or spirits. The fact that I was going to a retreat in the land of my ancestors that was focused on peace activism seemed to align perfectly with this idea.

I have wondered if anyone else made this connection to amber. While I was on the retreat, just after I'd found the amber sun amulet at the farmer's market, I had a discussion with someone at the retreat who was a former Pagan — he pointed out that amber and jet was a common combination for jewelry (especially among Wiccans, I think, if I'm remembering correctly what he said). But he said that amber was mostly associated with the God rather than the Goddess, being more "active/yang" and masculine. This deflated me a bit and so I kept my musings about any possible Brigid-amber connection to myself. So it's been wonderful for me to see others validating that connection and sharing some of their own thoughts!

And in keeping with the themes of fire-on-water and creation, I suddenly see amazing connections to the very first of the Rosary Poems I wrote back in college (of which, at the time, my advisor said, "Some poems just show up whole and perfect the way they are, like a gift"):

Annunciation

The light shines in the darkness,
and the
darkness has not overcome it. JOHN 1:5

Her yes becomes flesh
in flesh, white-winged fire swept
along sweat as if over the agitation
of waves, sharp spine of sunlight
in a slow serpentine across
the waters of her body —
there is no rushing it, no cascade
into the long cry of rising — only
a breath, a word, and the pouring
in of everything, even God.

More thoughts on all of this when I'm a bit more "together" and coherent.