Good morning, Mr. Magpie

I was only four or five years old the first time a magpie was pointed out to me.  Staring at those cobalt blue wings gleam in the Montana sunshine, all I could do was wonder at its beauty.   When I opened my pint sized mouth and commented in admiration, I was instantly shut down.  Magpies were "bad" birds.  (According to cattlemen, magpies are the scourge of the range preferable only to coyotes.  Because they will occasionally nibble a raw brand or preen the back of a cow so intently as to cause abrasions, most ranchers will shoot at every magpie they see.)  Feeling shamed to admire such a creature, I turned away from this bird who had instantly intrigued me and over the years nearly forgot about them.

Illustration by National Geographic
http://animals.nationalgeographic.com/animals/birding/black-billed-magpie/

Recently, when we moved to Bozeman, I once again fell in love with magpies.  In our new neighborhood, magpies are as plentiful as children which is saying a lot.  People here still grumble and call them "dirty," but I no longer care.  The magpies are my friends.  Superman and I both make a point to speak to them on a regular basis and Miss Busy loves to yell "pie-pie" as she tries to coax them in for a closer inspection.  We have also had many hours of entertainment watching through the living room window as they play, fight, steal, and gather material to build their rather messy nests.

This past month, I have begin noticing that the magpies seem to pay a lot more attention to my porch than to those of the neighbors.  They pluck drying garment from my rail, uproot small plants, leave perfect beak shaped bite marks in my mother-in-laws tongue, and rearrange the decorations on my table.  At first, I chalked it up to knowing that they were safe in my space, but then they started leaving gifts. 

One night about a week ago, I heard a clattering out on the porch.  Considering it was a rather stormy night, I shrugged my shoulders and blamed it on the wind tossing around my mop bucket.  The next morning, I found a resin skull that usually sits on the table thrown back against the rail in the opposite direct that the wind would have moved it.  In the space usually occupied by the skull were two small rocks confirming who the culprit(s) had been.  Then a few days later, I went out in the morning to find a perfect magpie feather sitting in front of my garden shoes. 

As a result of all these goings on, I have made it a point to learn more about magpies.  The more I learn, the more fascinating they become.  In this past week, I have learned: magpies have a long association with witches and the occult, are known to hold "wakes" for fallen comrades, and that a magpie is the only non-mammal who can recognize themselves in a mirror.   They are also resourceful, attracted to human company on their own terms, and take on long term projects. 

From a magickal standpoint, magpies often symbolize a person who could experience more if they would only trust their limited occultic knowledge and the possibility of learning and/or experiencing the supernatural in a less than conventional manner. Folk lore also teaches that witches can turn into magpies, that's one bit of knowledge I'd like to gain.  As with most magickal symbolism, there is also a warning.  Those who relate to magpies run the risk of all alternative learners and relying on incomplete knowledge.  The lesson I personally take from this is: use what knowledge you have, but continue to learn and grow.  Pretty timely advice. 

 



Spiritual Gardening

 

A few weeks ago, Superman walked past my alter and mentioned that it looked rather sad.  He was right. I have since fixed it, only to get wax all over it on Lammas.   With all the time I have been spending in the garden, I have been substituting my altar time with Earth time. If I had a garden space of my own, I would completely move my altar outdoors during the more temperate months. 

 

 

Several mornings a week, I take Miss Busy and Little Moon to the garden with me.  Perched in their double stroller and armed with snacks and sippy cups, the girls settle into a meditate state of stuffing their faces. In the silence that ensues, I invoke the elements and offer praise to the Universe while I weed, sucker, and harvest.  Standing barefooted in my garden with soil on my hands, I connect with nature and am nature. 

Even now, when my garden is not nearly as beautiful as it was when these photos were taken, a rather intense hail storm battered all the beautiful leaves  I find great inspiration in the strength and resilience found springing from the earth.  The plants are beginning to show the signs of weather and age, yet still they are producing food for my family.  In fact, the stress of our recent storm seems to have spurred some plants my cucumbers and zinnias to finally produce.  It makes me think of how we as individuals often require hard times to nudge us along in our own development.  Mountain gardening is a challenge in so many ways, but the struggles associated with it are teaching me so much.  Not just about this ecosystem and climate, but about myself and my relationship with the Earth. 

 

Celebrating the Beginning of Harvest

This time around the wheel I am trying not to get too caught up in the philosophy of our Pagan holydays, but to enjoy them at their simple point of origin.  I want to celebrate the passage of time as told by the rhythms of nature.  Being so immersed in my garden this summer made Lammas a little extra special.  Garden season goes so quickly here that it really is the beginning of the end.  I could really get into telling you all about my garden, but that is a different post. 

 

 

As usual, I kept things pretty simple.  I decorated my altar with my most recently harvested garden produce, held a sparse 5 minute ritual which even that was too long since Miss Busy managed to pull a page out of her daddy's new book in that time, and made grain cakes for supper.  Once I got the girls settled for the night, I spent about an hour in the garden doing some maintenance and just enjoying the evening.  I left the candles burning, with the fan in the hall and they melted down very quickly so now I have a waxy mess to clean up off my altar, but I did enjoy my little holyday.  As the littles get a bit older it will all get a bit more in depth.

Mini Meditations

Lately, I've really been trying to focus on making my spirituality fit my life.  The hardest part is meditation.  It requires quiet, uninterrupted time that I just don't have.  So I am focusing more on mini-meditations, stolen moments to quiet myself and reflect.  A few of my favorites are listed below.

Hang the Laundry: I know it sounds like a chore and some may see it as extra work, but it's quite relaxing.  The repetitive motion and no brainer activity makes it a great time to think and reflect.  I leave the girls inside and use this time to focus on the invigorating power of the sun and the wind.  It always improves my outlook on the day. Plus the sight of colorful cloth diapers dancing in the wind gives me an enormous sense of accomplishment. 

Sit on the Toilet:  Yes, I did go there.  If you can't get a few moments any other way, hide in the bathroom.  Find a comfortable seat the floor or edge of the tub work just as well as the toilet and just quiet your mind.  The distinctive bath room white noise really helps.  Usually, I find myself hiding in the bathroom when it's been a particularly active day for Miss Busy.  Once I've found a few moments of comfortable balance, I try to focus on all the good, funny, silly things she has done.  It helps me feel far less frazzled. 

Get Something Done:  Maybe this sounds like the opposite of meditation, but stay with me.  If there is something you love to do, but feel you never have time, give it the time that you do have.  I keep some knitting or hand sewing easily accessible through out the day and sneak in a few minutes of work every chance I get.  The act of creating is very meditative for me and unless Miss Busy pulls my knitting down it is something that will never have to be redone.  If I knit one row, that one row will still be there tomorrow. 

Speed Write:  When there are just way too many things running around in my brain, I sit down and write them down as fast as I can.  Give it a try. No editing, no grammar checks, no reading over previous ideas.  Just toss them down on the paper as quickly as they pop into your head.  When you have finished, sit and relish a few moments of mental stillness before throwing the paper away or burning it on your altar. 

Fresh basil from the garden. It has nothing to do with this post
other than the fact that the smell of fresh basil makes me happy.

Mama Magick

Some days, with the inherent business of mothering two little people, I feel like my life has lost all of it's magickal aspects.  Although I make a point to light my altar a few times a week, it has been months since I've done any spell work or meditated.  There just isn't a moment where I can take my eyes off Miss Busy that long and, when her naptime rolls around, I fall asleep every time I sit down to meditate.  Rituals are hit and miss too since, by the time the moon is up, the only place I want to be is in my bed.  It's enough to become discouraging at times, but then I remember that "mother" is one of the magickal phases of a women's life.

Mothering is not just a chore like washing the dishes or filing paperwork.  The very act of being Mama is magick.  If you're feeling skeptical, consider breast milk.  Everyday, all day, my body and the body of every breastfeeding mama produces a very special magickal elixir.  It is far more than nutrition.  It is comfort and love and security.  It is healing tonic and soothing salve.  It is the start to a life time of good physical and emotional health. 

Just like knowingly casting a spell takes huge quantities of energy, the bodies automatic act of creating breast milk and nursing can be physically taxing.  When I choose to nourish my children with my own body, I choose not just to fill their stomachs with the healthiest substance known to man, I also choose to give them large blocks of time to soak in my love and affection unhindered.  Love is the intent of all I do for my children and intent is at the base of all magickal working. 

 

 

At this stage in my life, magick looks a little different than it did before.  I cannot let the spiritual side of myself go, but I do have to recognize that being a mama and a witch are not two different things.  I am both and as of this moment, my intent is focused mainly on two very small people.  Although I sometimes want to follow modern society and demand more of myself, in my heart I know that this is the natural order of things.  I may be doing the greatest magick of my life right now. 

Goddess and God - Earth and Sky

Once again, I am turning to Mom's a Witch for a blog prompt.  The truth is, I am a bit exhausted and out of touch these days.  In our new location I am spending more time out doors, but with two very small people both are mobile now it is not a time for spiritual tuning.  Yes, I passingly notice the sun on my face...the wind in my hair...the cool earth beneath me, but it all flutters by before I can fully soak it in.  I suppose it's no different for any mama of little ones, I just don't remember being so worn out when the big kids were young.

Ok, back to this blog topic.  Since I missed April lets forget for a moment that May is almost gone as well I am mashing up a pair of topics from April and May: Who is your patron Goddess and God?

When I first started exploring Paganism, I thought that I had to choose patron deities.  Everything I read talked about finding your patrons, learning to work with them, growing your spiritual strength through them.  There really wasn't much room for negotiation.  I needed to find a Goddess and a God. Yet, no matter how deeply I delved I could not come to grips with the concept of embracing a deity.  So I focused on Earth Magick and just kept learning and studying while skirting the whole higher being issue.

Somewhere along the way, my attention turned toward Shamanism maybe because I play a Shammy on WOW and I started finding answers that suited my natural bents.  Going back, way back to the first family groups living in mud huts, people did not seek answers from sacred personalities, but from nature.  Shamans spent a life time learning to communicate with the Elementals and the spirits of nature and the ancestors: they spoke to trees and read the clouds and received messages on the wind.  This made sense to me.  This is what I had been tinkering with my entire life, but had never been able to put a name on.  My deeper primitive self connects to the energy of The Universe through raw nature. 

I am a Animistic Witch. As recently as last fall, I would have labeled myself an pantheistic witch, but that was simply because it was the only label I knew that somewhat fit.  My magick comes from fostering a close relationship with the Universal Power and the Elementals.  I am "A child of the Earth and the Sky: kindred of the Elementals."  My allegiance is to the natural world around me.

Meanwhile Across the State

If I start writing about this past month, things are going to get ugly.  Like really long and boring.  So, I decided to do this update with as many photos and as few words as possible. 

 

Dread update first, since I am a month behind.  These are just freshly washed and dried and just over two months old.  Superman still isn't sure he likes them.  I adore them. 

 

 

Now for the really important business...

We are here!  The beautiful Gallatin Valley, where even the parking lots have a view. 

Our living room window has a great view of the mountains, even if it is a bit dirty.  BTW...we are now in a second story apartment great excuse not to wash the windows.  Should I change the name of my blog? 

 

 

We've had snow twice since we got here April 9th.  I am looking forward to gardening, but we only have 92 frost free days here.  It's going to be a garden sprint. 

 

 

 

 

Our apartment overlooks a nice common area with a full playground and sandbox.  The girls are loving the outdoor space.  This picture was taken just a few days after one snow storm and a few days before another.  Hopefully, we are heading into the warm weather for good now. 

 

 

 

 

This "I Love Montana" mural is a downtown center piece.  It was painted by a local artist with the assistance of a group of elementary school children.  I hope to take more photographs when the sun is not casting shadows over the artwork. 

 

 

Yarnbomb Bozeman! 

 

So far, I am absolutely in love with this place!  Of the many places I've called home, this one is by far my favorite.