Yuletide Story

For more than a decade in the ‘80’s and nineties, I lived in a tiny studio over an old carriage house at the rear of a lot in North Berkeley. It was probably one of the oldest structures in Berkeley, older than the large house in front, which had also been divided into apartments. At a later time, long after the incident that I am about to relate, I even explored the possibility of having this little carriage house declared a historical landmark in order to prevent its demolition to make way for overpriced condos. This endeavor floundered for lack of sufficient documentation, and so I eventually had to move, but that is beyond the scope of this story.

The old carriage house had been erected with a steep, sloping roof, a rarity in California, perhaps by some recent pioneer from the East who had not yet thought through the architectural implications of the snowless Bay Area climate. My apartment nestled snugly under the roof, above a somewhat larger apartment that had been made from the original carriage house downstairs.

The yard was heavily wooded and overgrown; someone in the past had made careful and even magical planting choices: a hawthorn tree, rosemary grown to large bushes as it will in the California climate, a large stand of rue. The rent was laughably cheap, following a tacit Bay Area rental tradition that the tenant’s expenses can remain low as long as the owner’s expenses are virtually nil. A rickety outside staircase led from the ground to my door, passing over the door to the apartment below. At the top of the stairs was a tiny porch overgrown by the branches of an acacia tree, and my own door, a junkyard salvage item with a glass window.

I lived alone, as I have for years. I am a sound sleeper and, I should mention, a vivid dreamer. As a child, I was often confused about what had happened in my dreams and what had really taken place. As I grew up I learned gradually to sort my dreams out from my waking reality, but even as an adult I can sometimes identify a memory as a dream only because it is something improbable that seems to have happened while I was asleep.

It is also worth mentioning that the East Bay is demographically diverse and complex, perhaps more so than any place in the world. The cultural mix is rich and exciting, the crime rate is high, neighborhoods can change suddenly in character as you cross a large thoroughfare or a set of tracks, or for no apparent reason at all. My own neighborhood, as a friend once said, seemed “equally divided between the people trying to overthrow the government by force and violence and the people just searching for the perfect croissant,” with violent crime and drug-dealing to the south and west and the increasingly elegant homes of croissant-eaters mounting the hills above us to the east.

So in this apartment, in this city, very late on the night of the winter solstice, came a knock on my door. The room was long and narrow, and sitting up in my bed at one end I had a good view through the glass of the door. A young black man, handsome, lean and loose-limbed, stood looking at me. Unaccountably lacking in fear or hesitation, I got up, went to the door and opened it.

He apologized for bothering me so late at night; his accent was from somewhere in the Caribbean.  He held the street address of our little complex, 1315 Henry Street, scribbled on the back of an envelope. “Do you know Vanessa?” he asked. “I’m looking for Vanessa.”

I couldn’t help him. I knew everyone in the complex by name, none of them Vanessa.

He seemed disappointed, and shrugged. Then his face lit up with amusement, and he pointed to the door. “Look, you forgot your keys,” he said. I looked and there indeed were my keys, dangling from the keyhole outside the door. A little uncomfortable for the first time, I took the keys and closed the door. The young man rattled down the stairs. I glanced at the clock beside my bed—it was a little past three—and lay down to sleep.

The next morning I thought over the oddness of this event—my mysterious lack of fear, the discovery of the keys, and dismissed the memory as a dream.

Later that day, returning  from work, I ran into my downstairs neighbor. Peter was a wispy shadow of a man who lived on disability for some reason. I never knew the details. He and I had a cordial acquaintance based mostly on feeding each other’s cats when we left town. “Do you know anybody named Vanessa?” he asked. It was eerie to hear the name again so soon after the dream. I shook my head. “Guy was here about three in the morning,” he said, “looking for somebody named Vanessa. Jamaican, maybe.”

So it was not a dream. I performed the internal mental acrobatics required to reclassify the incident of the previous night as real, noticing how much more peculiar it appeared when recalled in that light.

But then, a year later, the story grew stranger still.

It was again around the time of the winter solstice. Peter had left town for the holidays, and his apartment downstairs was empty. Again, late at night, I was roused from sleep by a knock at the door, and a “hello.” In an instant, from that single word, I recognized the voice and the accent. My body froze in shock, fearful not of the young man himself but of the surreal nature of the unfolding events. “Yes?” I responded, not looking, not moving, not wanting to see the face that I knew was waiting on the other side of the glass.

“Do you remember me?” He called. “I was here last year. I was looking for Vanessa, but I didn’t find her.” He paused, and added, as if to jog my memory.  “But I found your keys.”

“I remember,” I called to him. “But I’m not going to open the door this time. This is just too weird.”

He laughed. “Well, Merry Christmas, then,” he said. He rattled down the stairs with the same sound that I remembered from year before, and was gone.

When I felt sure he was gone, something made me get up to look for my keys. They were in my handbag, where they belonged. I went back to sleep.

Long after, I told this story to someone I knew who was versed in the religions of the African diaspora. “Eshu, Papa Legba,” my friend murmured knowingly. “The Yoruba god Ellegua. He is all over the New World, by different names. The messenger of the Gods.  He’s a bit of a trickster, but he opens the way.”

I have long meant to weave this incident into some longer tale, a deep and important tale about the old Gods, and an opening of a way. But perhaps the true story is simple, and needs to go no further than this; a young man from the Islands had the wrong address, and lost a woman named Vanessa.

The Lammas Queen

(Picture from http://www.pinterest.com/pandorav/lughnasadh-lammas/)

Come to me now, in the first hour of harvest,
Hour of falling wind and sun,
And the sweet rushing in of the salt sea tide.
Now I am fruit, moist and heavy before it falls.
Mine is the milk that lets down and flows
To the sound of a hungry cry.
I claim the first fruit of your labor,
And return to you from my golden store,
The fruit of your labors in seasons past.
I bare my breast and the world spills forth;
Joy and loss and flame and shadow.
Drink and be whole, so the joy will last.

Lammas Tide

-->

This, like the planting time from Eostara to Beltane, is a period of intense hard work. It is a time when work comes to fruition, and the rewards of past work can be reaped. There will, however, be a lot to do to accomplish this, and it may feel as though the time is too short. It is a time of intense activity, both work and play.

The Mother at this time is at the height of Her power, her breasts flowing with milk at the very sound of a child's cry. Honor Her with works of healing and compassion, and by with a portion of each thing you earn or reap. The Mother of All Living tells us that she demands no sacrifice. She tells us this because she needs make no such demand; a portion of every labor and every love returns to Her by the law of Nature. When that return is brought to Her consciously and with gratitude, she rewards Her children by opening to them the storehouse of Her wisdom;  the truth which lies there is our own, which She has saved for us from our gifts of past seasons. Thus at this season we eat new fruit and old meat, new achievements and old wisdom.

Love and labor are one in the Mother at this season. Seek to perform all your work with love, and work to sustain your love for others.

 Like the Planting Time this is a season which, in the old days, required the give-and-take of community effort, as large teams harvested one farm after another. Look carefully at the patterns of reciprocity in your relationships with those love and care about, ask yourself whether they are balanced and fair, and what you can do to improve their equilibrium.

Try to float to the surface of the Tide, to take a long and broad view of things so as to maintain your perspective. Take time from your full and busy days to study and contemplate the huge expanses of space and time--the shape and time of the Universe, karma, your past lives. 

This is the most productive Tide for trance divination, for traveling in trance and dream the roads that lead to the future and the past.

Midsummer: The Air Tide Ebbs

 Image from http://deskarati.com/2012/05/12/pre-historic-science/

Midsummer marks the time when the air tide turns and begins to ebb. The air tide began to flow at Beltane. The season past has been one of change; things have been in transition, and there has been an element of chance in everything as some seedlings took root and others were stillborn.  With the turning of the air tide, the season of ripening begins.  Now we know which of the seeds of time have taken root and will grow.  It is a time for dedication, patience and awareness.  The work of the coming season will be watering and weeding, watching and protecting that which has taken root.

The turning of this tide is best observed in a circle of stones made in the old manner, out of doors, when the sun is high in the sky.

Take with you a stone to establish you’re altar, and a little water or oil to use for anointing.  Find a clear place in the sunlight.

Lay out a Circle by marking the four directions with stones around your central altar stone. As you do so, invite Spirits from the four directions to guard your Circle.

Welcome the God as King of high summer; as you invoke Him, feel the Sun enter you through the crown of your head, crowning the God within you.

Speak to the God who is both within you and in the sky above, voicing your intentions for the coming season.

Using the oil anoint both feet, saying, “Let my feet go in Your ways.”  

Anoint both hands saying, “Let my hands do Your work.”

Anoint your third eye, saying, “Let me see the way before me.”

Sit or kneel in silent meditation for awhile.

Give thanks to the God and the Guardians.

Open the Circle by walking widdershins (counter-clockwise), and kicking the stones outwards.

  

http://b.love2bnmaine.com/2012/02/08/full-moon-rising/

How remarkable that the Moon at rising can take you unawares.

At first, you do not recognize her, improbably large, a little misshapen from the effects of the atmosphere at the horizon, so often some unexpected color, or even an appearance of translucence like lantern paper lit from behind.

For just a moment, you do not realize what you are seeing, but then of course you do, and there is a moment of embarrassment--that after a lifetime of moonrises and poetry, you still were not prepared.

Sun Moon

(Image from http://www.scottmcd.net/artanalysis/?p=32)

Sun Moon, Dyad Moon, are names for the Full Moon that falls in Gemini. (Incidentally, the "moon falling in Gemini" is a different matter from the Moon being "in Gemini" in an astrological chart. When I talk about the Full Moon that falls in Gemini, I mean the Full Moon that falls sometime from May 21 to June 21.) The Dyad Moon will be full on Thursday, June 12 on the west coast of the U.S., Friday the 13th on the east coast.

At this time of year, chances are good of seeing the full moon and the setting sun in the sky at the same time.

The Dyad moon a time when opposites attract; magically good for working on relationships. 

It's a time when differences can turn from a liability to an asset. 

Beltane to Midsummer: The Growing Time

Beltane is one of the two hinges of the year that herald dramatic changes in energy and conditions.

The crops are sown, and now the fragile seedlings must take root and grow. The fields must be weeded and watered, relatively light work if diligently done. But now, the outcome of the past season's sowing depends on the vagaries of chance; the weather, the whims of marauding birds, forest creatures, otherworld spirits.

The veils between the worlds that opened at Beltane still remain thin. Connections are loose. All things are possible. The Lady and Lord, wholly absorbed with each other, leave their children to shift for themselves.

The time is more auspicious for divining than for sorcery. The lot-casting methods--the runes, Tarot, geomancy, the I Ching--will be the most effective ones.

The Fire Tide Ebbs

The ebbing Fire Tide, from the Spring Equinox to Beltane, brings the Time of Planting.

It is a busy time, requiring community effort, planning, and hope.

The Lady at this season is the the mature Maiden, guiding the work of the hands and the laying of strategies and plans.The Young God, still unmated and untamed, rules the Green Wood. His energy rushes through the homestead now and again, without warning, bringing both joyful laughter and lapses of judgement.

It is a powerful time for magic, ever more so as May Eve draws nearer. Work to awaken creative powers, and to lay the groundwork for life changes.

At Candlemas the Fire Tide flows, and this season until the Spring Equinox is called the Time of Change. In this time the God born at Yule grows to manhood, and that mystery of change informs all others. It is a time of great creative power, when all projects of art and making, will and change, are carried forth on their most auspicious tide.

The Cold Moon

Some call the full moon that falls in Capricorn the Cold Moon. It is time for hand work, for knotting and weaving magic, for working to protect and preserve through the winter.

This chant "Weave and Mend" is good for raising power.

After the Spell is Over

When the work is finished, if the goal is something you can work for on the physical as well as spiritual planes, so so immediately in order to help your spell take effect. 

If you were casting a spell for a job new apartment, for example, get onto Craigslist. 

If, on the other hand, the matter is one in which your only control is magical (a far healing, for example), it is best to let go of the spell and refrain from thinking about it for awhile, giving it time to take effect.

If the spell involved a concrete magical image like a picture or a poppet, that should be kept on your altar or in some other safe place until the need for it has passed. 

In some cases, the image is a talisman which is given as a present to the person for whom the spell was cast. 

If you eventually want to dispose of a magical image or talisman, it can be burned, buried, or thrown into water. Take pains to avoid littering.

In some cases, you may want to deactivate an image or talisman by cleansing it with one or more of the elements, and then use it for another purpose. A poppet, for example, can be packed away in rock salt and rosemary for a time, and then used to represent another person in another spell. 

Similarly, a crystal can be washed with salt water and then charged again for another purpose.

I find that in spite of all I can do, the regular habit of spell-casting inevitably results in an accumulation of ritual rubbish. 

Ultimately, when something has been lying around so long that you no longer remember what it was for, it is safe to assume that its magical charge has worn off and that it can just be deposited in the trash.

Grounding

When the spell has been bound, give attention to grounding the energy. 

This is necessary because magic is not an exact science; you rarely use exactly the same amount of energy that you raised for a spell, although you get better at this with practice.

If the spell has “taken,” there is probably at least a little loose energy knocking around in you and in your work space which needs to be grounded before you are done.

When you neglect to ground after magical work you are likely to feel the results throughout the next 24 hours or so; depending on how much surplus is zapping around, these can include restlessness, insomnia, fatigue, headaches, absent-mindedness, irritability, and proneness to accidents. 

Fortunately, there are some very easy ways to ground:

Eating: protein and complex carbohydrates, not sugar.

Physical connection with others: hugging, massage, sex.

Talking, laughing and joking.

Visualizations that root you in the earth, or centers you in the middle of the four elements. 

You can say, visualizing the elements around you, 

EARTH AND FIRE, WIND AND SEA, 

I AM THE CENTER OF YOUR CROSS, 

LIVE EQUALLY IN ME. 

You can ground yourself by paying attention to the four elements in your body--your breathing, your heartbeat which is your inner fire, your fluids and the weigh of your body on the earth. 

You can also use a grounding-cord meditation for this, feeling how the life energy of your spine connects you to the Earth.

Ground energy with a staff, wand or broom: place the tool upside-down on the ground and grasp it firmly, letting excess energy run through your hands and into the stick, and then down into the earth.

Bind the Spell

This is the critical step in casting a spell, and often not sufficiently understood. 

You have created an image of what you want to achieve, but it is real only within the sacred space "between the worlds" where you have created it. 

Now, with closely focused will, you must perform some symbolic act which will bring the image through to the material plane, and cause it to manifest physically. 

A spell works best if you know specific moment at which it is bound; you should plan in advance when this is to happen, and focus your will on that phase of the spell. 

There are a variety of ways to bind a spell:

Finishing the image: taking the final stitch, placing the final bead, and saying, “It is done.”

A verbal formula: for example,

WITH ALL THE POWER OF THREE TIMES THREE,

THIS SPELL BOUND AROUND SHALL BE,

TO DO NO HARM, NONE COME ON ME,

AS I DO WILL, SO MOTE IT BE.

Breathing life into the image, or empowering it with any of your bodily fluids.

Tying a knot, or the final knot in a predetermined number. An effective kind of spell is the Witch's ladder, a cord in which a magical number of knots are tied (3, 7, 9, 13, or 40) while the witch repeats her intention over and over with each knot.

Burning the image: the magical effect of fire is not to destroy but to transform.

Charging the image with energy conducted through your own body, using your consecrated blade, wand or just your hand: this is done especially with talismans and crystals.

Passing the image through the four elements, earth, air, fire and water. (Be careful not to damage something which you value or intend as a gift, by over-exposing it to heat or salt!)

Placing the image on a pentacle, or inscribing a pentacle on the image: the pentacle symbolizes Earth, and therefore manifestation.

Releasing the power build by the group:  spell will be done when the energy is sent off, either by the decision of a leader or by intuitive consensus.

Orgasm will bind the spell if you have been using sexual energy to raise power. Or, in true tantric tradition, it is especially effective to raise erotic power and then bind the spell by some other means.

A pre-determined natural event: you can program a spell to be bound at the rising of the moon, for example, or by some other event which will naturally and inevitably come to pass.

Reflecting the image in a mirror: a mirror is a gate between the worlds, and so you can bring an image into manifestation in this way.

Passing the image through a hole: if you have created an image on a small piece of cloth or paper, you can pass it through a stone with a hole, or a vertebrae bone, or a Chinese coin with a hole in it.

Note: an effective variation on spell-binding is to perform an initial action to charge the image, and then leave the spell to take effect on its own over a period of time. This is what you do when you light a charged candle, or give someone a charged talisman. It is always advisable to place a time-limit on the charge you give an object.