Witches Brew

This is without question my favorite time of year. I love these golden days when most of the trees have shed their leaves, when the understory has died back, and you can see the land. When you can caress the earth with your eyes and trace her waterways…when the secret paths of the wild creatures are revealed… I love the smell of autumn leaves. I love the early darkness when the night is still warm and the houses are lighted and the doors are open, welcoming you home… I love molten apple cider, pumpkin pie, chili simmered all afternoon over an wood fire, hot dogs roasted over a hot fire on a cool night..

When Pagans speak of the After Life, many speak of The Summerlands or the Isle of Apples, where we are reunited with our Beloved Dead: a resting station before we go on to rebirth (whether that involves reincarnation on this earth or another plane of existence). I’m not that fond of perpetual summer, no matter how mild. Give me the November Lands. Give me a warm meadowlet on a sheltered ridge where it’s warm enough (and private enough) to shuck my clothes and bask in the sun. Give me a sparkling, chuckling brook laid open to the sky. Give me the thrill of surprising a buck who thinks he’s alone in the woods. And then hie me home at twilight to a Thanksgiving feast with my Dear Departed–a feast that has no beginning and has no end (no messy prep–unless cooking is your idea of heaven–and no dirty dishes).

I have feasted on roast pork, which the Ancient Celts believed was the food of immortality. The magical pigs belonged to the God Manannan; slaughtered in the evening for the feast, the pigs were reborn again in the morning. (Just as the leftovers of my feast will be resurrected for most of this coming week…) Roast pork, acorn squash, Arbor Mist blackberry merlot wine cooler, and a big cinnamon roll. And now I am watching Betelgeuse.

The Celts considered Samhain to be the end of the year. Debts were settled, law cases were heard, chieftains renewed their vows of loyalty to their kings, and the kings swore loyalty to the High King in Tara. At the end of summer and the beginning of the “dark months” the veil between the ordinary world of the living and the spirit worlds of the dead and of Faerie was at its thinnest. Many of the great hero tales, which were often tales of transformation, began with a mysterious visitation at Samhain.

This is the time of year when we remember departed friends and loved ones. My parents have been gone for thirty years, and I miss them. Our house was open to people of different races and religions, and I am sorry that I am not as tolerant as they were. They purchased some acreage in the country where we had some memorable cookouts. One Halloween Dad invited the young furniture movers who worked with him and their dates. The path back to the pasture was lit by Jack-O-Lanterns. The girls were amazed by the golden pumpkins–living on the South Side, in the inner city they had never seen Jack-O-Lanterns. They had never roasted hot dogs over an open fire or toasted marshmallows. (And they took the pumpkins home with them, and we had none left for Halloween.)

These days we are all disconnected from our food supply and the source of our consumer goods. And we are facing the crisis of Peak Oil. As cheap fuel evaporates and prices of everyday goods skyrockets, we will have to rebuild local manufacturing and local food networks. Witches Brew turned two years old this month, and I have decided to launch a new blog Brewing A Pagan Permaculture.

According to Wikipedia: “Permaculture is an approach to designing human settlements and perennial agricultural systems that mimics the relationships found in natural ecologies. It was first developed by Australians Bill Mollison and David Holmgren and their associates during the 1970s in a series of publications. The word permaculture is a portmanteau of permanent agriculture, as well as permanent culture.”

Brewing a Pagan Permaculture will talk about creating an urban agriculture and an urban Pagan community in the years we have available before Mother Nature hits the reset button on our consumerist society. I’ll have stories about urban pioneers, alternate energy sources, and the Post Industrial Society. I’ll have links to innovative websites and lists of useful books. I will feature Pagan leaders who are already working on permaculture and the post-industrial economy. And I will try to create a Pagan theaology of decay and renewal.

I am so not prepared to do a ritual. I’ve been gone all weekend. I’ve had very little sleep, the house is its usual mess, I have nothing for offerings, the candles are all full of dust… However the moon is full, and CIPS needs a home for the sabbats. It needs to be cheap, cheap, cheap and hold anywhere from 10-40 people. We want a small kitchen space for potluck, and I want indoor plumbing and handicapped accessibility. Ideally it should be centrally located for our members who are in Pekin, Bartonville, Eureka, Wyoming, etc, etc. Oy!

Hecate is usually considered a crone, a Goddess of the Dark Moon, but I relate to her a daughter–a surrogate daughter, who helped Demeter search for the kidnapped Persephone. Like Ruth in the Bible, I hear her saying, “Whither thou goest, I will go…” Hecate carried the torch to light the way. Hecate is the Goddess of the Crossroads; she is the Queen of Witches. And CIPS is certainly at a crossroads on this issue.

Hecate’s alter ego is Baubo, a frog goddess full of bawdy humor. I have a warm relationship with her in that aspect, so I am going to gather up my frogs.

I checked outside. It’s a clear night and the moon is bright overhead. It is my belief that all rituals are improved by the use of chocolate, so I have cocoa in my mug with frogs climbing up the sides. I have a plain white plate for cheese and crackers. I have my green glass frog with a tea candle in it, and I have a wooden croaking frog to summon the four elements. The frog has ridges on its back: stroking downward produces a mating call; stroking upward produces a distress call. I am going to use a plain old kitchen broom to cast a circle and create sacred space, and then I will use the distress call to alert the four elements that I am in need of their aid. I will call Air from the North, Water from the East, Fire from the South, and Earth from the West. Then I will ask Hecate to join me.

I will pick up the broom, and because Hecate is the Lady of the Torch, I chant:

We light the fire, we will feed the spark,
We will rise up, rise up, rise up!

I call the four quarters. Stroke, stroke, stroke, Spirits of the North, Spirits of Air, of the coming winter, of the shimmering aurora borealis, Spirits of inspiration and change, attend me, stroke, stroke, stroke. Spirits of the East, of the ocean, of deep emotion attend me. croak, croak, croak. Spirits of the South, of Fire, of passion and transformation, attend me. croak, croak, croak. Spirits of the West, of the Earth, of the ancestors, of the cradle of life and the land of the dead, attend me. Croak, croak, croak.

I light my candle and call on Hecate. I look into the shining eyes of my green frog. I cup it in my hands and hold it in front of my face. I’ve never noticed that the frog is smiling! I am filled with a sense of deep love, fondness and humor. We share cheese and crackers and mocha cappuccino cocoa. I will chant a while longer, basking in her glow, and then I will thank Hecate for joining me. I will thank the Elements in reverse order. I will open the sacred circle, and then we will see if CIPS finds a meeting place.

So mote it be.

The Wheel of the Year rolls on. This is Harvest Home, also called Mabon, the second of three harvest festivals. Lammas or Lughnasa is the first one at the beginning of August. It’s the Festival of First Fruits. For me, as I said in “Lammas 2009″, Lammas is fair season: gigantic vegetables, prize-winning pies, truck-pulls, the midway, the beer tent, and the politicians tents. Harvest Home is the corn harvest, and Samhain or Halloween is traditionally the meat harvest

Being a City Witch, I will not be celebrating a silo full of grain, nor will I be slaughtering hogs in October–although I do have a book that tells me step-by-step how to do that. (If you ask nice, I might dig it out and outline the procedure for you.) I’ve had to re-interpret Harvest Home for my reality. For me the corn harvest means investing for the future. Now that the Stock Market is looking up, I’ve rebalanced my pitiful 401K. I’m looking at refreshing my job-hunting wardrobe. I am getting ready to winterize the apartment.

For me Harvest Home is also about investing in the next generation. I’m a little sad that Woodruff High School is closing–I’m an old Averyville girl, and my parents graduated from Woodruff two decades before I did. Kingman Grade School is gone also. But I think the school board has made the right decision. I think Manual and Peoria High School should survive.

I think health care reform is a crucial investment in the next generation. It’s been 100 years coming. I think it’s a crucial investment in my generation. I couldn’t afford Cobra when I lost my job–not even with the federal subsidy. I currently have Aflac “if I’m hurt and can’t work” and I bought into the catastrophic illness package, but I doubt if i can continue with the catastrophic.

But Harvest Home is a festival of thanksgiving! I have been relishing fresh produce from the farmers markets, and I’ve been to Tanners and Apple Blossom Farm. I celebrated the New Moon this weekend with a fabulous omlet–onion, spinach, yellow and orange bell peppers, garlic snaps, shrimp and cheese. Major yum! And I am thinking squash tomorrow night with an apple-peanut butter filling–and a nice red wine.

Among the Ancient Celts, the “cross-quarter days”–the solstices and the equinoxes–were springboards for the greater fire festivals six weeks later. So Harvest Home is the launch for Samhain, which is considered by many as the Pagan New Year. This is the one of the times when the Veil Between the Worlds is at its thinnest and we can commune with our ancestors and with the Spirit World. Many people mistakenly think that there was a god of death called Samhain (and that’s actually pronounced “Sow-en”) but the Celtic means simply “the end of summer” or “the beginning of the dark months.” So as I give thanks for the harvest, I will be turning my thoughts toward my departed and the beginning of a new year.

This will go down as a memorable Lammas weekend. Lammas, the first of three harvest festivals celebrated July 31st, August 1st or 2nd, is one of my favorites because Lammas, for me, is Fair Season. It is a celebration of the best and the brightest. Lammas is the livestock shows, grand champion vegetables, prize-winning pies and embroidery, truck-pulls, politicians and other geeks, the Midway, lemon shake-ups and fried food on a stick.

This is the season of the Butter Cow, an icon of the Illinois State Fair for more than 80 years and the first great idol of my Pagan life. I must have been about four when I first saw it, and I try to remember to watch the annual sculpturing on the Butter Cow cam.

Lammas is also known as Lughnasa, for the Irish God Lugh, Master of Arts. Harry Potter, born July 31st (as was J.K. Rowlings) can be considered an avatar of Lugh. Lughnasa, however, was not a celebration for Lugh, but funeral games for his foster-mother, Tailtiu. Quidditch, The Tri-Wizards Tournament, and the mundane Highland Games and the Olympics are in the spirit of Lughnasa.

I spent this morning at the Fancy, Schmancy Flea Market at the Franciscan Center: an eclectic mix of artisan vendors, craft stores, a masseuse, musicians, etc. It was sunny, breezy morning on the RexPlex lawn and even if I am not particularly a morning person, it was lovely. Then I went to a private Pagan Lammas ritual.

CIPS did not put on a Lammas ritual. The people who have planned the rituals for the last year–myself included–all took a big step back this Sabbat. A few of us gathered for a quiet supper on the 1st and talked about where the group was going to go. So I was blind-sided this afternoon when I discovered that the organizers of the private ritual were forming a new group. They are wonderful, dedicated people and I wish them well, but I don’t think I am going to sign up.

I guess I am back to being a solitary.

I looked at the calendar today and realized it’s only 5 more weeks to Candlemas. Sheesh! I was not on the planning committee for Yule, and I hope to escape the committee for Candlemas or Imbolic–but somebody’s got to do it. Most Pagans have a horror of “organized religion,” but there is something to be said for having a building of one’s own and a liturgical tradition.

In the next five weeks, someone will have find a site for the ritual that will hold twenty or more Pagans plus children and guests. It will have to be within our fluctuating budget and handicapped accessible (which Yule was not) and traveler accessible if the weather is bad. And someone will have to write the ritual–we are trying to hand this off to our Druid who wrote such a moving ritual for Lughnasa in August.

And our brand new Bard’s Court’s will have to prepare something in a hurry if we are going to make a debut at Imbolic. And I have been wanting to switch our newsletter to a new format–and it will probably take most of five weeks to work that out. And I should really start NOW if I want to gather up witchy, unwanted items for our Freecycle table. I swear I am going to get rid of “stuff” and then I put it off until it’s too late. Luckily the frozen custard pies that I bought for Yule potluck were a huge success, so I don’t have to rack my brains for a dish to share… But it seems like we just got done with one Sabbat and here comes the next!

CIPS got together in Germantown Hills to celebrate Yule Sunday night. It was bitterly cold and the streets and sidewalks were treacherous, but Pagans came from Peoria, Bartonville, Canton, Eureka, and all the way from Arthur! The Holly King and the Oak King fought their twice-annual dual to great acclaim. We feasted on goose and ham, sweet potatoes and green bean casserole, and mounds of cookies, cupcakes, peanut brittle, cheese cake and pies.

No Yule celebration is complete without carols, and new Pagan editions of old standards are thick on the Internet. So, I present you with

Dancing in a Wiccan Wonderland

(Words by Alexander & Aarcher
Tue: Winter Wonderland)

Pagans sing, are you listening’.
Alter’s set, candles glisten,
It’s a Magickal night, we’re having tonight,
Dancing in a Wiccan Wonderland.

Chorus
In a Circle we can light a Yule Fire,
And await the rising of the Sun,
It’s the Great Wheel turning for the new year,
Loaded with abundance and great fun.

Blades held high, censer smoking,
God and Goddess we’re invoking,
Through Elements Five, we celebrate life,
Dancing in a Wiccan Wonderland.

Queen of Heaven is in Her place,
Triple Goddess, now the Crone Face,
Above and Below, She’s the Goddess we know,
Dancing in a Wiccan Wonderland.

Now the God is the Provider,
Supplying game for our Fire,
Above and Below, He’s the Horned One we know,
Dancing in a Wiccan Wonderland.

Later on, by the fire,
Cone of Power gettin’ higher,
It’s a Magickal Night we’re having tonight,
Dancing in a Wiccan Wonderland.

The topic this afternoon at our monthly CIPS Meet & Greet was “Writing Rituals.” Paid clergy are extremely rare in the Pagan community. In many Pagan traditions there is a hierarchy of leaders with an unpaid High Priestess and High Priest who have been trained and initiated by an HPS and an HP who were trained and initiated by an HPS and an HP, etc. And members of that tradition will have access to the group’s Book of Shadows, a collection of rituals, spells, and herbal lore that has been handed down through the group. The HPS and the HP may possibly earn part of their income from writing Pagan books, doing lectures, or owing a Pagan oriented business (Pagans can enthusiastic entrepreneurs). But most Pagan clergy earn a living doing mundane work at mundane jobs.

Because teachers can be few and far between, most contemporary Pagans tend to learn from popular how-to-books and online resources. And many contemporary Pagan groups may out and out reject the notion of hierarchy and initiation! In eclectic groups like CIPS it is assumed that every member is capable of functioning as HPS or HP. And each and every member can participate in writing our seasonal celebrations.

The structure of the ritual is fairly consistant: purify the ritual space, gather the participants and cast the ritual circle, call the Quarters–North, East, South, and West and their corresponding elements, Air, Water, Fire, and Earth–and then invoke the Goddess and the God. Now we have created a space between the Worlds. The HPS or HP states the purpose of the ritual. The group, having entered an altered state of consciousness, raises magical energy to power our spell work. When we have accomplished the purpose of the ritual, we bless and eat our “Cakes and Ale” to show gratitude to our Deities, to affirm our fellowship and to help return to normal consciousness. We thank and bid farewell to our Deities, thank and dismiss the Quarters, and open the circle.

The Beauty and the Mystery is in the details. This afternoon we all shared details on how we execute each step in the ritual. Pagans are a creative bunch. They are by turns solemn, poetic, and playful. Flowers and incense, singing bowls, and the Hokey Pokey may all be elements of worship. Pagan rituals can be messy; they can be awkward and definitely unrehearsed, but they are also fresh and heartfelt created by the community for the community.

This month CIPS, the Central Illinois Pagan Society, is marking its first anniversay. At the beginning of October Witches Brew also marked its first year. And while blog entries on Witches Brew have been sporadic (to say the least), CIPS has been growing like Topsy.

Last year at Samhain (Halloween), CIPS celebrated their first sabbat or holiday ritual with a circle of five people. This year on November 1st, people are coming from Bloomington and Chicagoland, from Eureka and Germantown Hills, from Yates City, from Canton and Bartonville and Peoria to celebrate the Witches’ New Year and to feast and remember our ancestors. We are expecting 12-15 children from toddlers to teens.

Usually the little ones just come to have fun. They are getting to know each other now. They eat, they smash a pinata, have a water balloon fight, color, and do simple crafts. Only the middle schoolers participate in the ritual circle–if they chose. This year at Samhain the potluck will be incorporated into the ritual circle and all of the children–and their parents–will get to participate. This is exciting for the group and a little bit scary, I think, for the organizers. We have an energetic bunch of kids.

This has been a year of new adventures for CIPS. Each sabbat now has a community out-reach project. For Samhain we are collecting canned goods for the CityLink Stuff-A-Bus food campaign. And we will be adopting a needy family for Yule.

The email list has 92 members (last time I checked). There is an herb class that meets once a month, and a month Meet & Greet for coffee and conversation. We just published the third issue of our electronic newsletter which comes out roughly every six weeks. We plan to do eight issues a year–one for each sabbat–with articles about the history of each holiday, a recipe, a spell, and a bit of humor.

And we have started a virtual library at Shelfari, an online, social networking site for book-lovers. So far five members of CIPS have listed approximately 300 titles from their personal book collections. Basic Pagan 101 books sit side by side with scholarly books on Celtic and Egyptian history. There are herbals, books on Women’s Spirituality and Native American culture, and collections of myths. There is Pagan fiction. Pagans love books and social networking on the Internet, so this should quickly become a community resource.

Even in this economic turmoil, we celebrate our community and our good fortune and look forward to the new year.

It’s a week till Lammas, First Harvest, also known as Lughnasah. Lammas comes at the height of summer, but it is already looking forward to Fall and the harvest season. There have been changes here at Witches Brew. The Peoria Blog Project changed service providers, and my old site theme vanished. Now I have these spiffy, rotating views of Peoria.

I haven’t posted since Ostara, though I have been thinking about where I wanted to go with this blog. So imagine my surprise when I realized today that I am not a solitary witch anymore. The Central Illinois Pagan Society started out October just before Samhain–right about the time I started Witches Brew. CIPS (with a hard “C”) has grown dramatically in the last nine months and swept me up with it. I’ve been attending the monthly Meet & Greets, and I find myself involved in planning our Sabbat rituals and inaugurating the CIPS newsletter. We our first online issue will be out this coming week.

These kind and caring people have made me feel welcome. CIPS is a family organization. It’s common to have three generations of participants at our open rituals, and members have brought non-Pagan friends and Significant Others. It’s great to be back in a Pagan community again. I’m sure I am going to have lots of news and views the coming months. Thanks, guys! Merry meet and merry part and merry meet again!