I am setting the grandest table for them, these women of my childhood religion who so wholly embodied the woundings of the global Feminine collective.
Teardrops are falling on my grandmother’s silver as I straighten and perfect each place setting, and my heart-drum beats out a mournful dirge as I light the black candles.
One by one, I summon them, bidding them to join me on this Samhain night when the veil is so thin that I can hear the wails of burning women tied to stakes, and the gasps of holy healers swaying at the noose ends. I summon them, these women I was told to shun, and I take my seat at this Last Supper of Holy Whores, this so solemn Samhain celebration that is my highest ritual.
I call on the Mystery to resurrect the Divine Feminine dark, and I set fire to the sweet-grass braids while I whisper their infamous, ill-reputed names.
Mother of Babylon, I welcome you and your revelations to this table. On this ghostly night, I remember you for your Witch-warrior nature and your kinship with nature. I can read the language tattooed on your body, and I have memorized the truest apocalyptic verses. You represent the end of their days, and their condemnation of your leadership is fear-born and unholy.
You will give them their last rites, and I will stand with you while you draw a phantom pentagram over their hearts.
The ghost of the wild Mother materializes, riding her seven-headed wolf and glowing an ethereal red.
They feared the future you represent, the Wild Rising and the genesis of pan-human equality. They tell little ones you embody all that is evil and unjust, but many know the truth. You are the collective feminine wound of our stolen right to affect change, to vindicate our dead, and to unearth the bones of the socially powerless. You are our right to grieve, and our divinely sanctioned right to share our own prophecies.
They called you a whore, but tonight I will call you Mother.
The wild one dismounts her beast and takes a seat at the table’s head. I pour wine for her and crush my eyes closed, readying myself to call in the next guest.
Mary Magdalene, I welcome you and your devotion to the Sacred Masculine to this table. I remember you for your passion and your grace, and I have heard your lover beg me to resurrect you with my words. You are the holy partner, the eternal Creatrix, and you will not be shamed.
The ghost of the red-hooded She-God appears holding a baby in her arms, and the Mother of Babylon raises a fist high in solidarity.
They feared your sexuality and your intimate, heart-born connection with the man they worshiped as their savior. They do not tell their daughters you were the lover of Christ, but I will. They do not speak of your divinity, but I will raise my voice for you. You are the collective feminine wound of our stolen cosmic birthright to make love to our Gods, to drink the holy water, and to pray with our bodies.
You, Lover-Priestess of Magdala, are the pulse-beat of the universal heart, and you are our right to hand-craft our own religions. They called you a whore, but I will call you Mary, Lover of Christ.
She lowers her hood, taking a seat next to the Mother, and I spoon some of my Witch’s brew into her bowl. Still more ghosts are all around us, and their curious whispers nearly drown out my call to the fallen queen.
Jezebel, I welcome you and your devotion to this table. Tonight, I remember you. This is a memorial service to your spiritual conviction, your bone-deep spiritual autonomy, and your refusal to bow down to a God that was not your own. I am giving your crown back to you, and I am tattooing your name on my belly.
The royal woman who was denigrated for her beliefs appears in all her adorned glory, and both the Lover from Magdala and the Mother of Babylon bow their heads in reverence to the one they called an idol-worshiping adulteress.
They feared your spiritual freedom, and they denounced your religion. They beat you, and they tried to rob you of your worth. They still use your name to restrict the sexual liberty of women, and they have bound you in their so-called holy book to be forever the unchaste one. You are the collective feminine wound of stolen spiritual agency, and all women feel your pain.
They called you the fallen queen, but I will call you Jezebel, Priestess of Baal and Lover of Mystery.
The queen takes her seat at the table, leaving just one empty chair, and I butter some bread for her. We four sit in silence for a time then, readying and steadying ourselves, raising our frequencies so high that we sprout wings from our backs and milk-white crowns from our heads.
I feel her before I call her, and these words pass from my lips in an accented tongue I do not speak, and yet I understand my meaning:
Lilith, I welcome you and your brave heart to this table. On this sacred night, I remember your refusal to accept the conditions they set for you, and I remember your liberation from the sweet floral prison built to contain your sexuality, your wit, and your fem-force. You are a fire-walker, sent into the desert to repent the sin of feminine independence, and you risked much in the dangerous search for your own house.
No, you said. No, I will not apologize for knowing my worth. No, I will not submit to your will. No, I will not surrender to the hand of those who would harm my daughters, and by the grace of all things holy, I will not bow down to a God that thinks me less than a man.
There is an earthquake in my bones, and I shiver, waiting. The candles dim, threatening to die out, and then the flames extend so high, white-hot and sparking. All of us — the Mother, the Lover, the Priestess, and I — bow our heads in womb-felt reverence, and she appears.
The original incarnation of the Feminine Divine, this wild-haired, bare-breasted, and dark-skinned force of nature who descends all religion, sees straight into my marrow. Her black eyes bear down into my soul’s deepest wounds, and suddenly she knows all of my secrets. I would have begged her to consume me then, to swallow all of my energy and use it as she sees fit, but again I speak without trying:
They twisted your story, Dark Goddess, as they have stolen and molded the stories of every woman who sits at this table. They used your names to teach their lessons, and kept you shackled to a book you never read and a God you did not worship. You are the collective feminine wound of social inequity, oppression, and isolation. Lilith, they called you the Mother of Demons, but I will call you Dark Goddess, Mother of All.
The rawest human form of the Feminine Divine takes her seat at our table, and I slice her some forbidden fruit as the candles blaze. We hold hands, and the scene is like no other. The Mother’s seven-headed beast is snoring softly at our feet, and the baby of the God-among-men and his red-hooded lover is cooing softly, mesmerized by the fires.
When I join hands with them, Lilith to my left and the Mother to my right, I can feel them inside of me. My guts twist with the red, throbbing ache of our shared wounds. I feel the Mother’s wound of stolen prophecy, the Lover’s wound of denounced body prayer, the Priestess’ wound of spiritual subjugation, and the Dark Goddess’ wound of inequity, the original sin.
I feel it all, and I pray for death; the collective feminine scars are so egregious, so unbearable, I have nowhere to keep this pain. I am in agony. I am birthing a billion black holes from my belly, and they are ripping their way out of my soft flesh. I want to bleed out, but my guests will not let me.
I am pulled from my pain by their hands, and my thoughts are lucid again. I feel the merit of their vindication, and sit, slumped and breathless, while they pray-howl in unison over our Samhain supper:
On this holy night, we bless this table with our tears and our rage. We sit together in solemn solidarity, and we invoke a total transmutation of the collective feminine wound. We invoke the Mystery’s cool, cosmic wonder to come forth and quench our thirst for change.
Their voices grow so loud, I feel my body will combust with the pressure of the sound, and I surrender to their invocation fully, with all that I am or will ever be.
We are calling on the Sacred Feminine to rise up, to groundswell under our feet and swallow up the outmoded religions of this world. We are calling on holy wildfire to incinerate any ropes that bind the hands of the oppressed, and we are demanding to be heard. Hear us, women, and know you will not be tamed by their laws. You are She-Gods, and for this, you are feared.
Hear us, all who value the Feminine, and know it is your time. Hear us, and affect the transformation of spiritual systems that would keep you in the dirt.
Hear us, for we are owed. We have suffered much in the tragic names of piety and morality. We have been burned, scorned, pushed from windows, and shamed. Our power has been locked inside countless cages, their laws, their commandments, their moral codes. Tonight we say no more, and tomorrow we rise.
Tonight we have risen from our unmarked graves to ignite a bonfire of the Feminine Returned, and tomorrow we will visit the dreams of anyone who will have us.
We are the ghosts of the Holy Feminine, and we will haunt the churches that banned us. We will take the titles they said we could not have, and we will wear their most sacred robes. We will stand and sing with their choirs, and the Sunday-dressed women will whisper of the spectral, wild-haired ones. We will stand bare-breasted in front of their stained glass windows, and we will wail when our names our mentioned.
You cannot have us anymore. We are not yours to use, Priest. Find other tools of indoctrination, for our stories do not belong to you. We are the Spirits of the Wounded Feminine, and we demand justice. We will shred any mask you make for us, and the dead do not get tired. Our energy is self-renewing, ever-flowing, and all-encompassing. We are here, and we are staying.
Their last words hang in the air. The candles have been snuffed, and I am alone in the dark, left with nothing but my resolve.
I haven’t posted anything for awhile, so I want to apologize to my followers for that. It seems as though just when I get going and things in my life are getting ironed out, I get kicked in the throat. Not to be entirely pessimistic, but this cycle has been going on for most of my life. I’m not sure why and this is something that I’ve been meditating on nearly every day during my absence.
An online friend introduced me to a man by the name of Alan Watts. He has passed on, but his videos are still quite prevalent on You Tube and I have been listening to them almost every day since he was made known to me. He was a Buddist with Hindu leanings and I’m not, but what he talks about makes a lot of sense to me, not to mention the fact that listening to him makes me feel like I’ve just let go a breath that I’ve been holding for years and years. This has to be a positive thing.
Ok now on to my Tarot Reading of the Day:
The first card I drew was the Ace of Wands.
This card represents new beginnings. You’ve planted your proverbial wand in the ground and from here there are many roads to choose. Since this card was drawn in the first position of a 4 card draw, my guides are telling me that this represents a point of time in the recent past. I’m not sure when. It could have been on Saturday when I finally committed to cleaning out my mother’s house. She died in October of 2015 of multiple heart attacks attributed to a congenital heart defect and COPD. Her death has been particularly hard on me, but on Saturday a friend of mine went with me to her house and I was able to get quite a bit packed up for donation to a local charity. This may be my new beginning. This is quite a positive card. My intuition is telling me that this card is telling me that I’m going in the right direction.
The second card that I drew was the Eight of Cups.
This card symbolizes diving deep into the subconscious or searching spiritually. Diving deep into the waters of your belief system or deep self examination. It’s highly introspective. This is representative of what I said above about meditating daily and listening to Alan Watts. I’m trying to change myself for the better. In my humble opinion, if we don’t change, we get stale and our spirit suffers and grows small and still. I, for one, want my spirit to be alive and I want to lean into my spiritual gifts not only so that I can help myself, but also so that I can help others. This card represents where I am at the present moment.
The third card I drew was the reversed Five of Pentacles.
This card shows a woman who is seemingly trapped in a bubble of her own inner pain. She doesn’t see the beauty around her because she is too focused on her own pain. However, I drew this card in reverse. So the reverse of this is true for me in the near future. This is a positive card in the reverse position (It can be seen as positive in the upright position as well. Showing a person that they are trapped in their own pain. Sometimes it’s good to get perspective on a situation so that we can move in a positive direction.) I hope that my world will open up and that I will have a chance to help others get out of their pain or at least begin to manage it. I believe this is one of the reasons I have incarnated in this place at this time: to help people ascend into the best version of themselves that they can be (This goes for myself as well.)
The fourth and last card I drew was the major arcana card, The Sun.
This is a very positive card and since it is situated in the last position in the four card draw, it represents not my near future, but a future that is possible for me further down my time line. It is showing me that a dawn will come after the darkest period of my life I’ve experienced so far in my life. It indicates fulfillment as well. All I’ve really ever wanted out of my life is to be as content and happy as I can in whatever situation I find myself in. It’s hard to be an optimist when all you see around you is darkness and pain. I know that all too well. However, this card gives me hope that the sun will again shine on mine and my daughter’s lives and that our deepest heart’s desires will be fulfilled. This rekindles my hope, which has been suffering for the last year and a half (basically since my mother died).
I hope this post was interesting to ya’ll. If there are any questions or help that I can give, please comment and I will answer you as quickly as I can. I realize that what’s going on in my life isn’t really that interesting or that important to anyone else but me, however I hope that the tarot card meanings were informative and helpful to ya’ll.
I want to thank everyone who comments and follows me. It is truly an honor.
My 5-year-old daughter woke this morning talking a mile a minute about the spirits she was seeing: one green one pink/red. The green one she said was a man with brown hair and glasses and the pink/red one was a lady with long, black curly hair. I couldn’t figure it out for a few hours and then I had a strong urge to look up something about “seeing spirits and colors”.
I came across this website:http://paranormal.lovetoknow.com/Ghost_Orbs_Different_Colors
The Different Colors of Ghost Orbs and Their Meanings
Includes: • About orbs • Ghost orb colors and what they mean • Use ghost orb information carefully
When I got to reading about the orbs and the colors and what they mean, it hit me like a ton of bricks right in my heart that she had just seen the spirits of my parents. I broke down completely. I lost my parents within three years of each other. It’s been really hard on me.
My daughter told me that one spirit was green, male, with glasses and brown hair. The other was pink/red and was lady with long black curly hair. After I composed myself a bit, I showed her some photos of my parents when they were younger and asked her if that was what she saw. She confirmed that this was what she saw in the orbs. Again, I broke down. Not from sadness, but from amazement, happiness and gratefulness. I miss my parents so much and to know that they are here is well…amazing and wonderful.
I am so humbled, grateful, happy, amazed, overwhelmed….I’m so glad that they are here watching over us. It was told to me by both a clairvoyant and a Druid High Priestess that my daughter would grow into some amazing gifts. I suppose this is only the first manifestation. Wow. Just wow.
I myself can’t see spirits, but I can feel them sometimes. All I can say at this point is that my daughter is amazing and that I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve this blessing. I’ve had two blessings in the past two weeks. Unreal.
P.S. I have never heard of someone being able to see orbs with the naked eye. Usually you have to use a flash camera to see them.
During the night the Taurus Moon made a Grand Trine in earth with Pluto in Capricorn and Mercury in Virgo which ought to get today off to a good start. A midday sextile to Chiron in Pisces brings out the Taurus Moon’s nurturing side which can translate into making sure your loved ones have plenty of their favorite comfort foods around. Most of the day should be very good for making progress on any task that needs patience and care.
Late afternoon/early evening the Mars-Venus sextile creates a Yod with the Taurus Moon as the apex. The effects ought to be short lived but annoying and are most likely to revolve around relationship issues. One of those situations where the emotional response could be less enthusiastic than hoped for, as in you give your lover what you think is a nice gift and their response is underwhelming. The day does end…
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I woke from an amazing vision this morning. The goddess Kali has given me a vision of what my life will be like in the future if I continue on this path of improving my physical health along with still exploring and learning about myself via my spirituality. It was an amazing, light filled and golden experience. I can’t explain the feeling. The reason I know that Kali gave it to me is because in my vision, I saw myself on the porch of my house at sunrise doing a sun salutation (yoga) and when I raised my arms, I saw a tattoo of her on my back and when I raised my arms it was like my arms and my body became part of her and we were both just sitting in the vastness and amazing golden morning. I felt my heart was filled with light and laughter and my pain was completely gone. I was really happy for the first time in my life and I knew that my happiness and contentment didn’t rely on anyone else but me and that gave me a feeling of wonderful power over myself that I’ve never really known. I think she gave me this as an encouragement to keep going the way I have started. She is letting me know that I’m on the right path. Blessed Kali never fails to answer me or help me when I need her. Thank you blessed Mother, beautiful Creator and wondrous Goddess. I am in awe of you.
The whole universe (including our personal lives) are continuously in a state of change. If there is no change, we will stagnate and die (physically, mentally, emotionally and/or metaphorically). Expect change and try to roll with it instead of fighting it.
Personally, I don’t like change. It screws up my sense of what is up and what is down. I tend to get all twisted up inside when changes come and I tend to fight them. I’m learning to be less anxious and to let go more through my meditations. Pretty much all of my life change has equaled “something bad”, but that isn’t necessarily correct. Sometimes, change can be good. It can get me out of my ruts, which I have a tendency to fall into. I’m also learning and relearning that I have to let go of trying to control everything. I have learned that this is a form of insecurity which manifests itself in the blockage of the 3rd chakra (or the navel area). When I meditate to align my chakras, this is one place I get stuck. I guess I’m still using old coping mechanisms that served me well in my childhood (which was super topsy turvy and traumatic), but no longer serve me anymore. I create for myself more emotional and mental stress by trying to put everyone and everything where I think it/they should be, when I could just let go and let everything and everyone fall into their own places like the Source energy directs or a person’s karma dictates.
I realized a few weeks ago that I was falling into sort of a healing trap where I was trying so hard to heal from past traumas, but every time I tried to heal this reinforced the trauma on my inner child. So, I had to go into some serious meditation and find my core personality and just love on her the way I wish my parents had loved on me. These visualizations combined with healing meditations have seemed to break me out of that “healing trap”. This is only one of many reasons that change can be good.