Triple spiral. Ancient symbol of the Goddess. Symbol of trinities of all kinds. Unity of body, mind, and spirit. Blessings of earth, air, and sea. Presence of tree, stone, and river. Guardians of ancient places and sacred spaces.
Intersecting paths of destiny, purpose, and intention, twining together in a way that may feel mysterious or unknown and yet unfolds in perfect synchrony, exquisite harmony, and profound, patterned grace.
Triskele, you carry with you an ancient message, encoded in the gene patterns of our souls, and grounded in the passing of generations of wise men and women. Shaman’s song, druid’s call, poet’s voice. You speak to some part of us that lights up in response to your message, to this symbol, that which has been engraved on stone, wood, metal, and on hearts. Still teaching, still healing, still guiding, still guarding.
Wisdom from within, from the earth, and from the ancestors…
These new triskele pendants are some of the designs we released for the launch of Brigid’s Grove, my collaborative project with my husband. We’re hosting giveaways on our website throughout the month of February to correspond with our launch and one of each of these pendants will be offered as a giveaway over the course of the month! We’ve also got an etsy discount code, a free digital Ritual Recipe Kit, and more to check out on the Brigid’s Grove website and Facebook page. The Ritual Kit will continue to be available for free for approximately the next 60 days, after which time we are planning another cool freebie to offer to our newsletter subscribers 🙂
Usually when I create a new design for a pendant or figurine, I know who I’m making when I begin. A few days ago, I created a new design who emerged as a mystery. When she was finished, I loved her. But, I didn’t know her name or what she represents. I asked on my facebook page for input and I got some suggestions…
Druid priestess. Seraphine. High Priestess. Tri-Goddess. Mother. Celtic goddess.
I took her to the woods and held her in my hand and spoke in a little sing-song of emergence…
She who unites body, mind and spirit. She who calls upon earth, sky, and river. She who speaks to oaks and mountains. She who sings with the ocean. She who opens arms to the sky and feels raindrops bless her brow. She who circles in the moonlight. She who gathers with her sisters. She who hears the drumbeat of the earth. She who tunes her heartbeat to this call. She who steps in time with the wind.
Of this earth, for this earth, on this earth.
She holds the vision. She holds the space. She holds an ancient wisdom.
Encoded in her cells, written on her bones…
The mantle settles around her shoulders. Sinking into belly, bones, and blood, until she knows, without a doubt, that this is who, she really is.
The next afternoon, a friend who has one of these pendants sent me a message suggesting a title: Embrace Possibility. I thought about what I’d written in the woods. I thought about how different women saw different names for her and I knew that THIS was it. Embrace Possibility. What message does she hold for you?
This new pendant is one of the designs released for the launch of Brigid’s Grove, my collaborative project with my husband. We’re hosting giveaways on our website throughout the month of February to correspond with our launch and one of these pendants will be offered as a giveaway! We’ve also got an etsy discount code, a free digital Ritual Recipe Kit, and more to check out on the Brigid’s Grove website and Facebook page.
East, power of air, we welcome you. First breath of the morning. Sweet breath of the baby. Deep breath of the soul. Welcome to our circle. Sweet breeze. Brave wind. Swirling. Stirring. Sweeping away and through. Breathing with us. Welcome air, welcome east.
South, power of fire, we welcome you. Fire of the sun. Fire of the heart. Fire of the spirit. Fire of connection and love. Welcome to our circle. Heat of transformation. Forging strength. Crucible of change. Burning in our hearts. Welcome fire, welcome south.
West, power of water, we welcome you. Sweet life’s ocean. Waves of change. Crests of power. Flowing. Growing. Changing. Healing. Welcome to our circle. Rivers. Oceans. Streams and lakes. Cool, comfort, soothing space. Blood flowing within us. Welcome water, welcome west.
North, power of earth, we welcome you. Solidness of body. Strength of bone. Height of mountains. Reach of trees. Heartbeat of Gaia. Welcome to our circle. Strengthening us. Holding our bodies. Stability. Rooted around and within us. We are people of the earth. Welcome, earth, welcome north.
I’m in the final phases of creating the Ritual Recipe Kit that we are going to be giving away with the official launch of Brigid’s Grove on February 1st (sign up for our newsletter and you’ll get the kit too!). As I’ve contacted authors to ask for permission to use several different pieces in the book, I had the sudden realization that almost everything I was asking permission to use was an invocation. The kit contains rituals for maiden, mother, and crone as well as some bonus rituals. For each ritual, I’d used an invocation written by someone else. My husband said, “instead of trying to get permission to use these, why don’t you just write one?” I thought about all the things I’ve written over the past year and while some are invocations of sorts (like my body prayer and this body blessing), I’ve never actually written a “traditional” invocation. I also thought about all the rituals I’ve done and all the coursework I’ve completed and realized I’ve never used an invocation of my own during any ritual or class. Ever. My first thought was, “no. I can’t do it, we’ll just wait to hear back about the permission.” Then…I thought…maybe I can do it?! Yesterday was a beautiful day and so I took my big old drum and headed to the woods. And, surprise! I had an invocation in me after all. At first, it ended up being a little song again—weird because of my notable non-skills in singing—and I sang it out and then came back in to type it up like I do all of my poems. After looking at it for a while, I re-formed it out of the poetry and into the format you now see above. It isn’t perfect, but hey, it is my first time! 🙂
Earlier this month, I finished a new sculpt for a medium-sized version of our classic birth goddess pendant and my husband cast and finished some of them this week. On Tuesday, I woke up with a phrase from a past piece of poetry floating through my mind over and over:
Soft belly
no longer bearing children
I am pregnant with myself
ripe with potential,
possibility, power
I incubate my dreams
and give birth to my vision…
I also thought about what I hope to communicate to others through my sculptures and when I took the new pendant down to the woods with me, a little song emerged to go with her:
Birth mama
birth goddess
reaching out
to join the circle of mothers
feeling her way
finding her place
in the web of women
Thank you sacred one
thank you sacred ground
thank you Ancient Mother
thank you sacred womb
Thank you loving family
thank you sacred ground
thank you sacred body
thank you healing sound
Thank you sacred one
thank you sacred ground
thank you Ancient Mother
thank you sacred womb
Thank you loving family
thank you solid ground
thank you sacred body
thank you shining moon
Thank you solid stone
thank you sacred oak
thank you ancient wisdom
thank you sacred hope
Thank you ancient rhythm
thank you song of blood
thank you holy hour
thank you holy wood
Thank you sacred one
thank you sacred ground
thank you Ancient Mother
thank you the world around…
The day after Christmas I took some of the books I’d received as gifts down to the woods. I laid them out the rocks and felt so appreciative of having a family who cares about me and what I’m interested in. I got a selection of priestess books, other books from my Amazon wishlist, and the Amazing Year workbook from my friend. I felt so grateful to have a mom who looked at the picture of the pottery elemental altar I showed her in a magazine at some point this year and then worked and worked to make one for me as a surprise. I felt grateful that she comes to my rituals and reads my blog. I felt grateful for other family members and friends who read my blogs and cheer me on when I make new things and try new avenues. I felt grateful for parents who will hold candles in the darkness on solstice night with me, for a husband who will make a drum and cast pewter with me, for friends who support and encourage me and are able to accept when I need to make changes or let go of things. I felt grateful that I live in a beautiful place and that I have woods to go to and rocks to sit on. I felt grateful for the small adventures of the past year and even for the losses and the lessons of grief and change. Then, I picked up my drum and I sang a song. I feel like acknowledging that yes, I can see there are flaws in my lyrics in that they are perhaps roughly patterned and could be reworked into something smoother, but when I listened to the recording of it again I heard something authentic and something that worked for what it was, when it was. And, I decided I like it just the way it is.
And, then, just now as I type…I felt grateful for myself-–that I will sit in the woods with a drum and sing spontaneous things and write blog posts about it even though maybe I could be embarrassed or self-conscious instead and hide my song away instead of posting it for people to read and possibly feel critical and judgmental of, but I do it anyway and I own it and I keep trying…
(and that is a run-on sentence and I’m not going to edit it either)
Today, I hung up the new goddess-ful Good Karma flags that my mom gave me for Christmas. They’re gorgeous and I loves ’em!
I’m working on making a “Temple” workspace for myself instead of just huddling in a corner with my computer…
(my new little altar goes in front of the Cretan priestess figure here, but it is still on the living room floor waiting for me to finish my life-and-biz-planning session)
BOOKS! Oh my first love, I will never forsake you!
Where did I come from?
When did the I become aware?
How did I come into being?
Where am I going?
What is my purpose?
These are the timeless questions
of a thinking animal
animated stardust
hopeful spirit.
The stuff of life of is transformation
everything we see passes away
to the next moment
a constant, unending flow
of dissolving experience
energy and time.
And yet, part of one pattern
part of one weaving
part of a beautiful whole
that cradles the world
in infinite space.
I actually wrote this in September, but never finished getting it ready. It seems fitting to share today, after so many more moments have dissolved away into infinite space since the time during which I originally transcribed this poem. The picture, however, was taken today…not in my usual woods, but in the little woven fort my kids are working on next to the labyrinth at my mom’s house.
May this be the beginning of a beautiful relationship
a harmonious partnership
a potent sense of connection and rhythm
may this drum keep time with the heartbeat of Mother Earth
may it honor, respect, and do justice to the skin of the elk it wears
and may it be tuned to the hoofbeats of the open plains, grassy hills, and deep forests.
may it hold sacred rhythm
may it keep sacred time
may it guard sacred space and ritual energy
and may it dance with joy and wild abandon
may it draw out the wildness of our heartspaces
and may it echo through the woods with its own true song
may I do it justice
may I guard the rhythm
and may I align my own heartbeat
with the pulse of the Mother
of our home, the Earth.
May it be so.
May it be blessed.
With the earth, the trees, the rocks, the sky as my witnesses
I bless, consecrate, dedicate, and honor this instrument of peace, healing, and celebration.
I like how, depending on the location of the sun, light shines through the back and creates these silouettes.
Used my timercam app on my phone and put it down on the rocks.
This morning I carried my new drum down to the woods to bless it. I took with me the remaining scraps of rawhide from the lacing to leave in the woods. I became so entranced with drumming there that it was hard to pull myself away to come back to the rest of the busy-ness of the house and holiday preparations (as well as car repairs). The night after we first made the drum, we got a little concerned because the top started to feel kind of wobbly (after having initially felt tight), but by the time it finished drying it had become, well, tight as a drum. It is amazing really to see how this worked. I love it! When I spoke the dedication I offered, I kept my hand on the surface and could feel each word vibrate lightly in the skin.
After I offered my dedication, I intuitively sang a repetitive, wordless tune and was surprised to find tears come to my eyes.
Winter’s song
echoes in skeletal treetops
and crackling leaves.
Rest time.
Hibernation.
Silent watchfulness.
Waiting hope.
Sink down.
Open up.
Receive and feel.
Hold peace.
Pause and check within
for that glowing emberheart
in your soul.
What purpose calls your name?
What seed incubates
waiting for the breath of hope
and the breath of action
to coax it into life?
Winter Solstice.
Time for your light to shine
from within the sheltering dark.
If you pause in darkness what does your body have to tell you? What do your dreams have to tell you? What does the frozen ground have to tell you? What do the spirits of place have to tell you?
What song can only be sung by you?
What emberheart can only be ignited by your breath?
What path have your feet found?
What messages are carved in stone and etched on leaf for your eyes and in your name?
What promise are you keeping?
—
This afternoon my husband and I worked together on the drum kit he gave me as a solstice gift. It is still hanging up to dry, so I don’t know if it completely worked yet, but it was fun to do together and I’m extremely pleased with the result. I love it so much! It is elk hide and the kit is from Centralia Fur and Hide. I felt very mindful while working on it that this was a creature’s skin and I both felt disturbed or guilty, as well as respectful of that.
Bone wind has returned
mother of winter’s chill
sweeping through bare branches
and rattling dusty leaves.
The remnants of summer
have completely faded
and the doorway to the new year
has cracked open.
With the skeletal swirl of frost and freeze
I see the hint
of new things
waiting to burst from behind the door
Hibernating now perhaps
hunkered down to wait it out
resting, biding time, percolating
nestled in darkness
but, oh so ready, to grow.
It is only on the surface
that the world prepares to take a long nap
underneath the crust
change boils
life bubbles
new ideas gestate
and time crowns anew
with the promise and potential of birth
held in cupped hands.
The flame of fresh ideas flickers
and catches
until the blaze of possibility
envelopes the cold.
Winter is falling across the woods and I find myself filled with an amazing sense of promise and potential about the new year. 2103 has held a lot of transition for my family, it has held the grief of my grandmother’s death, as well as changes aplenty–some changes that are beautifully enriching, creatively inspiring, and relationship enhancing and some changes that have been difficult, sad, trying, and frustrating. Ever since the wind turned towards fall, I’ve felt a sensation of “fall cleaning.” Sweep it out, start fresh, begin again, take a break, pause, regroup, reform, re-try, launch, begin, start new things…I’ve felt it practically in terms of rearranging my house and going on various decluttering missions, but I also feel it inside—my own purpose, focus, priorities, and projects.
Deer Woman
running free
choosing her path carefully.
Stepping delicately
on crunchy leaves
picking her way through rocky hillsides
cautious, aware, watchful, knowing.
What’s that?
A sound.
Her ear is tuned
to the heartbeat of the earth
she walks in time with the wind
she is cleansed by raindrops and dew
and the fire of her own sweet breath
as she nestles with her fawn in secret places.
She knows the dark privacy of the forest
the cool side of the mountain
the warm sun of the field
she knows the taste of grapes on her tongue
the feel of wind on her back
and the joy of leaping, unbound.
She may appear timid and wary
yet she will not be boxed in
she will not be caged
she will not be fenced
she will dance wild and free
in moonlight
in sunlight
on stone
and on grass
in field and valley
running, running
and calling your name.
Come run with me
be free
leap the fences
leaving behind that which is narrow and confining
and sip the sweet raindrops by my side.
Watch
pay attention
assess
gauge
be alert and cautious
and run.
Run like the wind.
Wherever the beat of your heart
and Gaia’s horn might lead.
I don’t really relish having to wear hunter’s orange when I head down to the woods lately. The sound of nearby gunshots encroaches on my sacred ground and makes me feel a sense of risk. Tonight while standing on the rocks feeling uncertain rather than peaceful, I remembered that I wrote a poem called Deer Woman a couple of months ago and never published it. It felt obvious that the time has now come!
I originally composed this poem when startling some deer away from the rocks by accident several months ago. They’re often there in the morning, making me think of the other woodspriestesses who visit the same spot that I call “mine,” but which is home to many and belongs only to itself.
“In a way Winter is the real Spring – the time when the inner things happen, the resurgence of nature.” – Edna O’Brien
Other poems in the Woman series are linked to here.
The last glory of my beautiful late October roses!
“We do not become healers. We came as healers. We are. Some of us are still catching up to what we are.
We do not become storytellers. We came as carriers of the stories we and our ancestors actually lived. We are. Some of us are still catching up to what we are.
We do not become artists. We came as artists. We are. Some of us are still catching up to what we are.
We do not become writers, dancers, musicians, helpers, peacemakers. We came as such. We are. Some of us are still catching up to what we are.
We do not learn to love in this sense. We came as Love. We are Love. Some of us are still catching up to who we truly are.”
–Clarissa Pinkola Estes
On my other blog this week, I wrote:
When I attended the GGG this year, one of the realizations I came home with is that sometimes I feel like people are trying to get me to be less (more about this some other time). And, I remembered a session I had with a healer who did a somatic repatterning process with me—one of the beliefs she tested on me was, “I am not enough.” It got a marginal response, but then she tested, “I am TOO MUCH.” And, THAT is the one that tested as true. I wonder how much about myself that I try to change or that I struggle with actually comes from the fear of being, too much. Too intense. Too active. Too talkative. Too much thinking, too much writing, too many ideas, too many projects, too much waving of my hands and pacing when I talk. Too, too, too, too much.
After writing the post above, I tuned in to ALisa Starkweather’s free call about embracing your fierce, feminine life. In a very poignant moment of synchronicity, she was talking about being “big” and “small” and that we are all both and can be both, but sometimes we are scared to be “big.” I also recently finished my final paper for my The Role of the Priestess course at OSC. One of the things I realized in the process of writing the three lengthy papers required for the course was that I’m still struggling with issues of insecurity and perfectionism. I also need more approval that I’d like to need and I am less self-confident than I’d like to be. I very often place pressure on myself to be perfect and I’ve noticed that accepting the priestess call has added another layer of something-at-which-I-try-to-be-perfect-and-when-I’m-not-I-feel-like-a-terrible-person-who-doesn’t-deserve-the-name. After having a slightly-insecure conversation with a friend a couple of weeks ago, I returned to a quote from Judy Harrow in an article we read for the Role of the Priestess course:
Mentors must never come to need our students to idealize us. As frightening as the pedestal is at first, it’s also frighteningly easy to get used to being up there. Whoever carries the idealizing projections of others can begin to believe in them and to enjoy the deference they elicit. If we succumb to this temptation, we put our own spiritual health in danger along with that of our students. Needy mentors will probably develop patterns of people pleasing and codependency. They will find it difficult to confront students on inconsistent or inappropriate behavior. They will be weak, and come across as weak, depriving students of exactly the perception of safety and security that they so need… –Judy Harrow
Oh no! I thought. I’m weak. Letting someone else see the self-doubt I tend to experience makes me a bad leader. ::::sob:::: Obviously, since I’m now writing about it, I’ve had a change of heart—while I don’t want to be so needy that I appear weak, I also don’t want to pretend to be so in-the-know and confident all the time that I prevent or inhibit authentic connection and shared human experience. When ALisa got ready to start the call, she posted on FB that she was “shaking in her skin.” That didn’t make me think she was weak, that made me think she was real and I heard that.
A lovely video from ALisa’s call is available here:
(Loved the song!)
The other thing I realized as I wrote my papers and pondered my lack-of-adequate-perfection, was that I really struggle with permission to be irritable/angry sometimes. That is one of the things that to me is just not allowed. Must always be nice and calm. However, since I do actually get irritable and snappy and critical and stressy-wigged out, I’ve then failed. Not good enough, again, dang it. And, I’m back to “who does she think she is” and “I don’t deserve this title/role/calling.”
<should I even write this, she thinks.Weak?!?!>
So…I went back to my saved recordings, since my inner machinations seemed very familiar, and I listened to a recording from several days prior:
A priestess does not always have to be nice
good
perfect
serene
calm.
A priestess can be fierce
she can be sharp
she can be a warrior
she can guard the temple
she can stand up
speak out.
A priestess is powerful
she is a woman who owns her own power
steps into her own life
and her own destiny
wearing the mantle
until it settles so deeply around her
that it becomes rooted in her bones and belly
as who she is
in every moment of every day.
One of my Halloween costumes this year. I was carrying my son’s toy sword for him at a party and a friend said, “warrior priestess!” And, I thought, *exactly*! 😉
A priestess will not be run over
she will not be downtrodden
she will not be oppressed
she will say NO
she will speak firmly
she will draw boundaries
she will hold space
with both tenderness and ferocity.
She will defend
she will build up
she will protect
she will guard
she will lead
she will serve
she will teach
she will share
she will not be silenced.
She will not stuff down or deny her own rough edges
in favor of a myth or a mystique
she will DO IT
she will keep trying
she will stand tall
she will lift her head
and she will say yes when she hears the call…
Then, I did one of the online free readings from Gaian Soul Tarot and I got this:
Unbelievably exact and what I needed to hear. The instructions say to trust your own intuitive reading of the cards before reading the text and I got it. I really did. 🙂
I offer what I offer I give what I give I share what I share I am who I am…
New projects I’ve been working on with my husband this week!
I follow the footsteps of my foremothers Foremothers who
gave birth to me Me, a priestess of the Goddess Goddess we
draw down to us Us, the People of the Earth Earth that
supports us all All life, even you and I I follow the footsteps
of my foremothers.
Earth alchemy. This little mother-of-millions plant has been struggling along since last winter when I friend gave it to me. After quite a few months of expecting the plant to keel over, it finally seems to have found its strength this summer and I think it is going to survive after all!
The miracle is in
the capacity of your eyes
to distinguish
an ordinary tree
from a sun-crowned
gently nodding
green cathedral.
To realize a faucet
is a dispensary
of wet, braided light.
To regard
your own left hand
as an astonishing feat
of animation.
The alchemist
who changes
a rabid
gnashing world
into unstoppable
tender music
is none other
than you.
I’m getting ready to make a new order of We’Moon datebooks for 2014 and I’ve been going through the 2013 edition looking back over the sections I’d marked and enjoyed and this poem caught my eye. One of the things that I’ve so enjoyed about my woodspractice this is the the opportunity to study very in-depth the alchemy of the woods, of the planet, and my interaction with it. There is so much that I’ve noticed that I would have overlooked without the daily contact. Like this rose…
Deciding to make a go of it even though it is October now…
Spreading open after the rain…
And then so perfect and beautiful and rich that I actually gasped when I saw the picture come up on my computer.
Of course, I planted this rose, so it isn’t quite the same as observing what Nature planted on her own, but it is definitely a part of this alchemy—this interaction—between this patch of land and me.
She who kisses your eyelids with sunshine
Blesses your brow with raindrops
Lifts cares from your shoulders
She who rises with the sun
And who holds the night sky
She who holds you firmly
While spinning in space
Rooted
Grounded
Drawing it up
Feeling it settle in your belly and heart and bones
She who cradles eternity in her broad arms
And can never be lost.
One of the things I realized while at the Gaea Goddess Gathering this year was that not everything has to be a story. I don’t have to turn everything think about into a blog post. I spend a lot of time looking at the world through blogger eyes, apparently, and I was surprised how often I thought or said, “I have a blog post about this” or, “I’m going to put this in a blog post” or “I have a draft post on my blog related to this.” I kind of started to get on my own nerves with it, though I also kind of started to see it as a joke too. Right before we left for our trip, my husband finished cutting, shaping, polishing, and setting a beautiful moonstone that we found during our trip to California into a ring for me. The stone was set a little high and I worried what if I lose it. He said it would be okay and he could make another, this would be kind of trial run (for his stone-setting skills). Well, at some point on Saturday night I DID lose it. I was pretty horrified. Though it is tiny and it was ridiculous of me, I wandered all around looking for it. I have a good “finding power” usually in that if I am still for a moment and focus on the item in question, I often then go to exactly where it is. After fruitless wandering, I decided to do this. I stood in the sunshine and collected my energy. Then, I walked until I got to a spot that said “stop” to me. I stood there with my eyes closed and the sun shining on my face and I thought…again…”if I look down and there it is, this will make a great story.” Instead, I got the poem above. And, when I looked down, there was no moonstone.
Some time ago, made a very, very tiny pocket altar to carry in my purse. I searched all over for a little rose quartz goddess of Willendorf sculpture that I knew I had and wanted to include in the tiny altar. I was not able to find it. After returning from the GGG and having the insight that I’d been WAY too attached to the previous year’s experience to fully appreciate the current year, I decided to go down to my woods and untie the medicine bundle I’d made during last year’s GGG. I thought about doing this before leaving and I really wish I would have. It felt like both a figurative and literal “untying” of the experience from last year and an unbinding my life, my attachments. It was a beautiful experience to be in the woods at sunrise, unbinding my bundle and letting go. And, there in the bundle was that tiny rose quartz goddess. I guess I did get my story 😉
After my unbinding ritual, I walked slowly back to the house feeling light and contemplative. Inside, before anyone else woke up, I typed up all of my reflections and insights from this year’s GGG. I felt integrated, settled, whole, and at peace. I went to do laundry and when I was in the room, I thought of something else to include in my list (which was going to be a later blog post). I returned to my screen where the insightful note had been waiting for me and it was gone. Never to be recovered. I could NOT believe it. All my insights! All my wisdom! Gone! I have to start over…But, then I really just had to laugh (and cry a little), because here was another insight, another lesson, another hiccup in my story. And, not everything has to be a blog post after all….
The tie that bind—the wrappings from my medicine bundle from 2012 and a piece of amber from 2013 left in a broken goddess bowl in a nook in the rocks.
She tilts her face to the sky
she opens her arms wide
she draws it down
clean
healing
holy moonlight
enlivening her being
lightening her footsteps
and guiding her path
Moon guide
moon guardian
shining one
sacred spirit
we call upon you
for healing
for wisdom
for inspiration
for guidance
You connect us
in sacred rhythm
to the heartbeat
of the planet
the pull
of the tides
the pulse
of our blood.
We hope
we laugh
we sing
we pray
we dance
by your light
in your rhythm
we drum
in your sacred power
Keeper of ancient wisdom
witness to unfathomable eons
may we be forever
inspired by our connection to you
enlivened by your wisdom
and guided by your truth
Moonpriestess
Moonmama
Moon maiden
Thank you
blessed be.
This was the second of two poems/prayers that I wrote before leaving for the Gaea Goddess Gathering. During the festival the moon was full and beautiful and as it crested over the trees at the top of the ridge where the main rituals and drum circles were held, it literally felt like it was energizing the circle. We also noticed a cool morning effect during which the full moon and sunrise could be witnessed at the same time.
And, the following morning I took a misty morning, sunrise stroll around the lake with my sister-in-law. During last year’s GGG, I was too focused on recovering from my hornet sting to really connect to the land. This year, I didn’t expect to connect with the land, since I’m already so connected to my own land, but I connected anyway. The lake is beautiful in the morning sunrise and so was Venus Sanctuary (a little meadow near the lake).
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These new triskele pendants are some of the designs we released for the launch of Brigid’s Grove, my collaborative project with my husband. We’re hosting giveaways on our website throughout the month of February to correspond with our launch and one of each of these pendants will be offered as a giveaway over the course of the month! We’ve also got an etsy discount code, a free digital Ritual Recipe Kit, and more to check out on the Brigid’s Grove website and Facebook page. The Ritual Kit will continue to be available for free for approximately the next 60 days, after which time we are planning another cool freebie to offer to our newsletter subscribers 🙂
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