It has been a year and a half since life as I knew it ended and I was reborn anew. Many things have changed since then and perhaps I have the most. My philosophy for my new life is to always choose adventure: to say yes when fear and my reclusive nature tell me to say no. One of my magical tenets is “if you’re not scared, you’re not doing it right.” In this past year I’ve done a lot of things that have taken me outside of my comfort zone: I’ve loosed my heart to lust and love, I’ve done more public speaking and public rituals than ever before, I’ve written articles and posts that I was terrified to publish, I submitted art and writing to beloved publishers when I’d once been too shy to do so, I travelled more than I had in the past seven years, and I more deeply committed myself to the path of magic.
In this new life I have discovered that life is for adventure and adventure is the point of living. We are all The Fool standing on the edge of the precipice and we should always jump hoping for love, laughter, kinship, adventure, and joy no matter how many times we fell and hurt ourselves before. If we follow our hearts with the innocence of pure intent and ignorance of expectation it will take us to deep and wondrous places in the soul, revealing to us sights and experiences we cannot yet fathom. If you have been feeling stuck and stagnant, trapped and scared, I plead with you to choose adventure and to say yes when you’ve always said no. Kiss the girl, go on the trip, work for yourself, write the book, go to the party, the festival, the ritual, the concert…
It was last-minute, unplanned, unexpected, but I said yes and drove down through Washington, Oregon, and California to Pantheacon in San José in February. My good friends and road trip companions Jan and Grant twisted my arms and the lovely Morpheus‘ hospitality cinched the deal. The waxing moon was a cheshire cat grin in the night sky and foretold all the mischief we would get into. We met with friends on the drive there and back: a group of shape-shifting mystics eating a centuries old feast at the Bors Hede Inne, visiting a mandrake witch and her elderberry wine, consorting with shamans, and having beers at a pub in Berkeley with warrior priests, staying with a family of archers and orchards and delicious home-cooked meals, feasting in lavish Moroccan fashion in Portland, and resting in a hidden cabin, cozy by its wood stove, in the forests of Washington on the way home.
Pantheacon was a labyrinth and mosaic of people, paths, costumes, rituals, teachings, and chaos. Three thousand Pagans in one place is a lot of Pagans. We stayed with the Coru Cathubodua. We hung tapestries on the walls while they set up the altar to the Morrigan with black and red and weapons and wings. We warded the room with holy water and whispers and shields. We helped in their rituals where we could, chanting and drumming, my fingers painting spirals of blue woad onto warriors’ skin. The Coru’s kinship ritual was the highlight for me, bringing tears to my eyes and strength to my heart. “As long as I draw breath, I will take my stand. The heart is the only nation.” The Coru truly live what they teach and I’d only ever felt such a sense of kinship and hospitality with close family before meeting the amazing members of the priesthood. I am so very happy they are coming to The Gathering Festival this year to host our main rituals.
I will forever remember the power of two fierce-eyed warrior maidens dressed in blue shifts and painted with woad dancing with sword and spear inside a circle of hundreds, the sound of hammers striking an anvil in Brìghde’s forge to heal the wounds of many, the sight of a raven named Gimble nuzzling his human father’s nose with his beak, the taste of homebrewed chocolate beer while beautiful fairy women sing, and the profound sense of comfort and kinship I felt with those who surrounded me. At Pantheacon I healed old wounds, made new friends, talked beautiful women into arm wrestling, conversed deeply on ancestor worship, seership and love, and truly had an adventure. I returned home changed for the better, but still myself. There’s nothing like an adventure, stepping outside and away from your life for a time, to show you your path from the eagle eye view and to set your feet back upon it knowing you are walking in the right direction. I came home with a bursting, grateful heart and the confidence to go on the other adventures I have planned for the coming year.
What adventures are you plotting?