Midsummer & New Perspectives
Last weekend with a few friends, I attended Midsummer ritual organized by a nearby coven. It was performed with an obvious shamanic wiccan angle. Being a non-wiccan, I don't necessarily agree with the motions, but gained a few things from the experience nonetheless. It made me think about things I hadn't thought about for sometime:
1. finding the personal connection that reflects who I am and divinity that speaks to me the way that Diana or Isis speak to others
2. Reconsidering shrine/altar design
3. The impact of group ritual.
First and foremost, for a long time I didn't have a 'mother goddess' that I readily identified with in the way that others identify with say Danu, Diana or Isis for example. But at a certain point in my life, I felt the call of Tiamat, and with me she remained, even though I tend to not do much work with her. The ritual got me thinking about her a bit more closely, which inspired me to do more research. Also I happened to be reading The Great Cosmic Mother at this particular juncture, which while I have found reviews that shun this work as an overtly feminist agenda, there are passages that focus on ancient symbolism which I myself have considered or felt drawn towards without exactly knowing why. So in that respect I can't deny the pull towards seeking to understand some of those threads. Since my poetry is my major connection with Tiamat, I've reread some of those passages and found references to these ancient symbols in some of my older writings that now seem as though they had been so obvious - staring through my soul the whole time and I'm only now beginning to see.
Second, I was really taken by the beautiful altar display at Witch Mountain, and it made me think about the things I have on my ancestor altar. Currently its a collection of images which pay homage to ancestors - my best friend's sister's grandmother's vase, photos of my mother, and of my godfather; paired with images of the divine - a grecian stele sporting a man & caduceus, and a flag of a crimson virgin Mary that I brought home from an exhibit on Latin milagros imagery; and myriad candles. This imagery brings to mind the elements that are important in my practice. Serpents are often a common thread, as is blood. My kitchen windows are, after all, dressed in dragon yin-yang curtains. It also made me reconsider the usefulness of figurines such as faerie or dragon statues, and their application in an altar or shrine. I also have an elephant candle posed on a shelf over my kitchen sink, to remind me of the youthful idealism of Ganesha, remover of obstacles.
Third, group ritual is not typically my bag, per se. By nature I remain a solitary creature. But over the last year or so things have become excessively stagnant. It was a very long, cold, dead winter and took quite a toll on me this year. Sometimes group ritual has a vitalizing effect on me. It provides fresh, new perspectives, and changes the way I see the world. This year in particular, the difficult winter brought with it a very unfortunate time in my life, and some of that depression remained right up to midsummer. And the focus of the rite addressed the elements of self and of life that I was in terrible need of addressing. It rocked my soul so hard that i found myself going through the motions as the emotions came back to the surface. And just when I thought there was no way to work through it, somehow I was doing just that - letting go of the pain, slipping through the drumbeats, and finding my alto voice. Its a strange sensation sobbing and chanting simultaneously.
1. finding the personal connection that reflects who I am and divinity that speaks to me the way that Diana or Isis speak to others
2. Reconsidering shrine/altar design
3. The impact of group ritual.
First and foremost, for a long time I didn't have a 'mother goddess' that I readily identified with in the way that others identify with say Danu, Diana or Isis for example. But at a certain point in my life, I felt the call of Tiamat, and with me she remained, even though I tend to not do much work with her. The ritual got me thinking about her a bit more closely, which inspired me to do more research. Also I happened to be reading The Great Cosmic Mother at this particular juncture, which while I have found reviews that shun this work as an overtly feminist agenda, there are passages that focus on ancient symbolism which I myself have considered or felt drawn towards without exactly knowing why. So in that respect I can't deny the pull towards seeking to understand some of those threads. Since my poetry is my major connection with Tiamat, I've reread some of those passages and found references to these ancient symbols in some of my older writings that now seem as though they had been so obvious - staring through my soul the whole time and I'm only now beginning to see.
Second, I was really taken by the beautiful altar display at Witch Mountain, and it made me think about the things I have on my ancestor altar. Currently its a collection of images which pay homage to ancestors - my best friend's sister's grandmother's vase, photos of my mother, and of my godfather; paired with images of the divine - a grecian stele sporting a man & caduceus, and a flag of a crimson virgin Mary that I brought home from an exhibit on Latin milagros imagery; and myriad candles. This imagery brings to mind the elements that are important in my practice. Serpents are often a common thread, as is blood. My kitchen windows are, after all, dressed in dragon yin-yang curtains. It also made me reconsider the usefulness of figurines such as faerie or dragon statues, and their application in an altar or shrine. I also have an elephant candle posed on a shelf over my kitchen sink, to remind me of the youthful idealism of Ganesha, remover of obstacles.
Third, group ritual is not typically my bag, per se. By nature I remain a solitary creature. But over the last year or so things have become excessively stagnant. It was a very long, cold, dead winter and took quite a toll on me this year. Sometimes group ritual has a vitalizing effect on me. It provides fresh, new perspectives, and changes the way I see the world. This year in particular, the difficult winter brought with it a very unfortunate time in my life, and some of that depression remained right up to midsummer. And the focus of the rite addressed the elements of self and of life that I was in terrible need of addressing. It rocked my soul so hard that i found myself going through the motions as the emotions came back to the surface. And just when I thought there was no way to work through it, somehow I was doing just that - letting go of the pain, slipping through the drumbeats, and finding my alto voice. Its a strange sensation sobbing and chanting simultaneously.