I think the reason some of us fall short (or at least why I often fall short) is because I / we try to cram everything we want to change into a single list without really thinking about what it will take to make that list a reality.

A second (but related) reason we don't succeed, in my opinion, has to do with the word resolution itself.  A resolution - something we resolve to do - suggests a serious commitment, a pledge or even a vow. And pledges and vows, like sacred quests, are destined to succeed or fail.  

I didn't realize that until I wrote my previous New Year's post but, when I did, the more I thought about it the more it made sense.  I realized that, because there is no halfway point to a resolution, progress doesn't mean much of anything.  And so, if we over-estimate ourselves and can't complete our resolutions, our only option is failure.

Since I don't want to feel like I've failed in 2016, I'm doing things differently by setting several new Year's goals and only one do or die resolution.  The resolution is to publish a book.  The goals include changes I'd like to make in my health, my home, my career and even my garden over the course of the year.

For each large goal I have set one or two realistic, smaller or short term goals I feel pretty sure I can handle.

Becoming more self-sufficient means a rain barrel this spring and building a small hen house over the summer. It does not mean we are going off the grid in 2016 (or ever).

Setting an expectation for home remodeling means that I'll keep on plugging and that I want to have the front hall finished by the end of the winter.  It means I'll look at the kitchen project over the summer and decide if we are going to be able to build new custom cabinets then (or in 2017).  It does not mean that everything will be (or, in an old house, even can be) complete.

Improving my health means the same thing it means every year but because I'm going to focus on the small things (e.g. some exercise everyday whether that's at the gym or in the garden) I think I will finally learn to accept that this is a long haul, change your life kind of endeavor.

And this is what I like about goals.  We can say we are going in a specific direction (our goal) and then set meaningful check points between here and there.  If we don't get to the goal but manage to arrive at those intermediate points, we know we're on our way to something better.

Still, there is something about setting a resolution that has always appealed to me.  Resolutions are big meaningful things.  Resolutions are grand and honorable and brave.  They may be a little over dramatic at times but there is something about declaring your resolve that can very inspiring.

Because of this I just can't let any New Year go without making one.  

For me, a resolution is a commitment to get something done.  It doesn't matter how you do it or even necessarily when (as long as it's completed by next New Year's Eve, of course).  What matters is finishing, honoring your word, and feeling proud.  A laundry  list of New Year's resolutions diminishes that enormous thing you are going to be so proud of when it is finally done (and makes it a lot less likely that you'll succeed).

My 2016 resolution is writing and publishing a book.  Going on record here with that great big declaration is an important first step.  But there are a lot of other steps too and that's okay because I've made a promise to myself that I'll get it done.

My resolution advice for the New Year?  

If you have a list of resolutions, pull that list out and pick the one that makes your heart beat.  The one that scares you.  The one that makes you feel proud.  This is one you will commit to doing - no matter what.

The rest are your goals.  Break them down into smaller pieces and add a few dates.  Don't give up on them when the going gets tough but prepared to revisit them and adjust things if you find that you've over-estimated your stamina or free time.

You can (and should) create a plan for your resolution just like you did for your goals  It can have a number of action steps and, if your first step is figuring out just how you are going to succeed, that's okay too.  Because you know that whatever it takes, that one proud thing is going to happen.  No matter what.

Wishing Everyone Success and Good Fortune in the New Year <3

Barbara

Because Yule is a holiday that hales from an earth-based religion, it is clearly focused on the movement of the planet and the seasons that cycle creates.

Falling on one of the four quarter points of the the Wiccan / Pagan calendar, Yule marks the Winter Solstice - the shortest day of the year.

From the Autumn Equinox (in the Northern Hemisphere) onward, the days get shorter and the nights get longer until on December 21st or 22nd, the sun rises after seven and sets as early as 4:30 in the afternoon.  After that long night, the process reverses.

Viewed from this perspective, the holiday of Yule, isn't just about lighting candles in the dark.  It is about the lengthening days and the barely perceptible shift from increasing darkness to increasing light.

Witches and pagans don't celebrate that shift because they think that darkness is bad or that light is in better.  They celebrate it because they recognize that both light and dark serve a very important purpose.

In light we see clearly.  We take action. We are filled with purpose.  In darkness we rest.  In darkness, undistracted, we are free to focus on what is within.  And if what we see there is problematic we know that it was already there - in dark or in light.

Earth-based religions value all aspects of the yearly cycle.  And it follows that, as earthly creatures in tune with the turning wheel of the year, the process of looking inward can be cyclical, too.  By working with (instead of against) these inner and outer cycles, we can discover new insights and revelations.  For me, this is what the holiday of Yule is really about.

This year, I began the process of evaluating the passing year in early November.  As the world darkened, I spent more time inside.  I used some of this time to think about strategies related to personal transformation and growth.  When the solstice is still weeks away, I began to write out my plans for the year ahead, allowing myself plenty of time to reflect and redefine.

If we attune to the cycle and follow this process, lighting our holiday candles on the longest night of the year means that we know just what we're creating and what we’re releasing.  In that space, poised between darkness and light, we transition from reflection to purpose, prepared to joyfully welcome the year to come.

There hasn't been much Winter in Northeastern Pennsylvania so far this year making it possible to work outside in the yard far longer than I had expected.  This is a good and productive thing but the short days and long nights have still affected me.  That is as it should be.

One night, in late 2014, I asked for global life path guidance before I went to sleep and woke up with the song "Turn, Turn, Turn" running through my head.  Like so many messages from spirit, this one wasn't what I wanted to be told but what I needed to hear. And so all through 2015 I did my best to align with the energy of the seasons.

This wasn't always easy - at least not in a controlling / egoic way - but even at its hardest it still felt right.

Winter was a time of study and introspection and Spring was a time of clearing and planting (in a very literal sense).

In summer, I built things in both worlds simultaneously - and began to share my secret identity as a witch with my non-witchy friends.

Throughout Autumn I did my best to tie up loose ends, think about the year just passed, and set intentions for the year ahead.

That year isn't here yet, and in many ways, I am still in the process of defining it but a few decisions have been made.  One is to begin the formal study of astrology through the American Federation of Astrologers and I'm excited to share that I have just received the wonderful Beginner's Learning Kit pictured below.  

I will also be working with the new Janus software when it is released.  

Astrology is, to my mind, a vital part of the Craft as well as the perfect pathway to individual transformation. On a personal level, astrology has been instrumental in helping me learn how to flow with the turning wheel of the year - instead of stubbornly (and ineffectively) pushing against it!

I hope you'll join me in this new journey of discovery in the year to come.

"Practical Magic" is one of my all time favorite feel-good movies.  I love it because it is lighthearted  and fun while at the same smart and well-acted and magical.  And I have watched it more times than I care to admit.

I don't love it just because it is about witches and magic or because Nichole Kidman is one of my favorite actresses.  I love it because it really is a wonderful movie.

Sally is sympathetic and brave.  Gillian is compellingly flawed.  The aunts are adoptable.  The house, which is not (sadly) a real house, is to die for.  To me, the whole movie is absolutely enchanting from start to finish.  (And they play "Crystal" which is one my favorite Stevie Nicks song at the end.)

And so - having liked the movie so much for so long - it's really kind of surprising that I didn't get around to reading the book (actually listening to the audiobook) until just last month.  But I have to say that I'm glad that I finally gave it change.

"Practical Magic" the book, is not like the movie, in many ways which is not unusual of course in books that are later made into movies.  The book isn't comedic - though it is funny at times - and it isn't really all that lighthearted.  It isn't enormously fast moving either.  In fact, there is a lot backstory, a fair amount of description, and not as much dialogue (or action) as you might expect.

The book does something, however, that the movie does not.  It leads us into the minds and hearts of all of the characters - delicately, carefully and very insightfully.

In the book we get the full story on why Sally is afraid to love.  We learn why she became her sister's partner in crime.  We understand exactly how Gillian allowed herself to end up in such a predicament.  We get a look at the aunts that we do NOT get in the movie.

And we find ourselves caring about all of this in a way we probably did not when we watched the movie.

I was actually a little surprised how invested I became in the characters considering that I already knew exactly how the book would turn out.  Or close :)

So if you loved the movie (or even if you somehow did not) consider given the book a read (or listen)!

I never set out in a given spiritual direction due to any kind of calculation or left brain sort of decision.  Instead I followed dreams and synchronicities and spiritual experience.

This makes for a zig-zaggy path at times. And a long one.

My path began in early childhood with experiences that included a mystical connection with nature, experiences of deju vu, an interest in all things supernatural, the ability to sense energy and the occasion psychic dream. I developed a fascination with witches while still in grade school and sometimes imagined that I was a witch.

As I got older I heard 'ghosts,' had premonitions, vivid dreams and visions. The vision I remember best from that time happened when I was seventeen years old. It wasn't an easy vision but it was very clear.  It had to do with the destruction of sacred grove and the people who mourned that loss - I understood those people to be druids. 

I set that part of my life aside for a while and when I came back to it there were experiences with paranormal investigation, mediumship, and dreams. For a while I studied New Age topics. But the truth is that what interests me isn't really new. It is old. So I'll be focusing a bit more on that going forward.

I started this blog because I needed a place to keep myself on track and that hasn't changed. Because that hasn't changed however the content will, of necessity, shift. I will be writing about what makes me the person I most want to be.

This summer was beautiful and bright and busy. In just a couple of months, I helped build a fence, planted a garden, remodeled a pantry, and took a relatively public step in the direction of my own earth-centered path.

In between those well-planned, over-sized events came a host of smaller and more spontaneous experiences - the feel of the dew on the grass, the sound of the wind coming down off the mountain, the moon lighting up the soft summer sky, the scent of fresh earth, the heat of garden, the taste of tomatoes straight off the vine - and somehow those small things ended up staying with me in a way that the big things do not.

Thesepics chronicle my summer in big ways and small.

Just wanted to let everyone know that I'm going to be offline for several weeks due to tenosynovitis (inflamed tendon) of my right hand : (  So aside from the occasional social media post (being handled by a friend) I won't be communicating electronically at all.

Not being able to write or type for an extended period is a bit daunting and I can't help wondering how I will manage.  I hope I will benefit from the electronic and paper hiatus.  I hope I'll  enjoy all the wonderful mostly hands free things that I love (like reading and researching) and get deeper into activites that I don't get to do as much as I'd like - like meditating and psychic development and dream work and astral projection and sitting in the garden and watching the sky. 

So on one hand I'm looking forward to the break and on the other I'm panicking.

I'm panicking because I'm a writer and I love writing.  I love typing.  I love blogging.  I love writing copy.  I love early morning longhand journaling.  I love penciling in notes, very neatly, in the margins of books.  I love notebooks and journals and paper.  I love making lists and checking things off as I navigate the day.  I have dozens of places to write and hundreds of things to write about.  

Being disconnected from all of that will be strange but maybe it will liberating as well.

How will I hold up?  Your guess is as good as mine but I will let you know hopefully sometime in August!

I celebrated the Solstice with some wonderful friends in one of the loveliest settings you could imagine. The weather was questionable to begin with, but we were thrilled to see the overcast morning turn into a beautiful sunny afternoon with just the right amount of wind.  Between the solstice fire and the pond was a wide expanse of green, where dogs played and humans exchanged tarot card readings and friendship.

As part of our solstice ceremony, each of us was given the opportunity to place an offering in the fire. Mine was mugwort and sage donated by a dear friend, a handful of rose petals from my garden, a fortune cookie message I found resonant on a half-forgotten difficult day and a hand written commitment to the things I mean to accomplish between this solstice and the next.  Standing before the fire I released all the fear and insecurity I could muster and prepared myself for the new energy to come. 

The rain held out until our gathering was about to close, then fell full-force, dousing our fire and rushing our goodbyes.  Thinking about the day later in the evening, it occurred to me that each of the elements had been especially well-represented. This, I thought, has meaning.

Committed to my new journey and direction, I had approached this solstice as a student, reading about the old ways and the Wiccan connection between the Summer Solstice and the journey of the god.  But I didn't want to approach Midsummer in terms of a single element or the masculinity of the solstice sun and in the end I didn't. Instead I experienced the living dance of wind and fire, the steady containment of the earth, the falling, clearing curtain of rain, and the sacred alchemy of fire and water.

This Memorial Day Weekend we watched a wonderful movie called Above and Beyond.  It was about the fighter pilot volunteers - some Jewish, some not - who flew for Israel in its 1948 war for independence. These were men who survived World War II and then continued to serve, risking both their lives and their American citizenship to so.  A truly amazing story!

To give you an idea of what I write in my journal, here is an excerpt from last weekend's journal entry. 

It's not great writing. But it is the kind of writing I could only do with pen and paper because, for me, typing out my inner thoughts just isn't the same. We are more likely to read as we type. Which makes us more likely to edit or censor. 

That doesn't happen with typing fiction necessarily, but it does happen, for me anyway, with nonfiction.

Fast, sloppy stream of consciousness writing makes it possible for me to reach a place I don't get to with other writing. Sometimes, this place is peaceful. Other times, it is sad. But I almost always feel better after I've been there.

To me, the music is key and Celtic music moves me like no other.  

One of the songs I listened to (a Celtic version of St. Hildegard Von Bingen's O Frondens Virga (Oh, Flowering Stem) by Nóirín Ní Riain:

I am in the last weeks of the Practical Astral Projection Intensive offered by famed astral projectionist and author of Astral Dynamics: The Complete Book of Out-of-Body Experiences Robert Bruce. 

We had been asked to observe our hypnagogic imagery (visions that come to us when we're in between sleep and wakefulness) at night before we went to sleep. So on this particular night I was observing the darkness behind my closed lids when I begin to feel a lot of vibration / pins and needles over my whole body but especially in my hands which were clasped over my stomach. 

Vibrations are a known precursor to astral projection or out of body experience and a sign the course has taught us to look for. In the beginning of the course (and at periods throughout my life) I found the vibrations a little overwhelming but at the time of this event we were several weeks into the class and I had learned how to relax into them. And so I just let myself experience the sensation. 

As relaxed I began to feel my vibrating hands lifting slowly but steadily up into the air. I knew my flesh and bone hands weren't lifting because I was motionless and relaxed (and not making any effort to move) but I really couldn't feel them - I was aware of my vibrating floating hands, instead. Or, to be more precise - as I remember it, they were still vibrating, but I am quite sure that these vibrating (or energetic hands) were floating. 

 I didn't try to force anything else into happening and then the hypnagogic imagery came back and I saw a desk - possibly my own but with different items on it (I think) - from the perspective of the person sitting at it. I have a vague memory that it had interesting things on it - possibly a crystal ball which I do have but not on my desk. I also had a sense of a room beyond that but it seemed dark.

Unlike my usual clear and bright hypnagogic imagery this visual was muted and dim but there was detail and it seemed fairly real. Also, I noticed that it was 'to scale' whereas most of my hypnagogic images seem quite small - for reasons I don't really understand. 

Seeing the desk seemed to signal the end of the experience - possibly because, as I recall, my hands were no longer vibrating - so I turned over and jotted down what happened in my dream journal.  And was too excited to go back to sleep for some time!

Spring is less of a revelation this year than it has been in others. The mild winter was perhaps too kind to Pennsylvania. There was no snow to speak of. No long stretches of low temperatures.

I have always been a fan of seasons. To me, each has its own energy and winter has the energy of air. It is a time for realism and clear thought. At some point over the course of the season, I stop and take stock of things and I didn't do that this year. I'm not sure why but I suspect that in the absense of hard wind and frozen ground, I may have missed my trigger but maybe that's okay.

If winter holds the energy of introspection, spring hold that of action. And there is a fast paced decisiveness to action - a rapidly unfolding plan which makes us think upon our feet and rise above our situation. I am blogging very briefly this week, taking advantage of that amazing energy!

“The principal point of their doctrine is that the soul does not die and that after death it passes from one body into another..... the main object of all education is, in their opinion, to imbue their scholars with a firm belief in the indestructibility of the human soul, which, according to their belief, merely passes at death from one tenement to another; for by such doctrine alone, they say, which robs death of all its terrors, can the highest form of human courage be developed.”

I am a member of the OBOD (Order of Bards, Ovates and Druids) which means that I'm studying Druidry, though I look at  as more of a philosophy or general spirituality than I do a religion. This is partially because I don't think it's really possible to reconstruct an ancient religion without making it into something new.

But I do think that there is something of the energy of that time which remains in the natural world.  And that may be why the dreams and visions that tied me to that past seem valid in a way that clocks and calendars do not.  And so, for me, the old holiday, Imboc, isn't history. It is a place on the wheel of the year and the turning cycle dark and light and every place on that wheel has meaning.  

Outside my office window, here in Northeast PA, the snow fell all through the night and into the morning. The sky above the mountains is a light silvery gray and if the sun is lost behind the pale clouds.  But I know that it is there somewhere and I know it's returning because of this marker, this holiday, this space in time.

Imbolc is the traditional feast of the Celt goddess Brighid. A goddess of both fire and water who is revered as a Catholic saint.  As a goddess, she represented creativity, fertility, healing and light. In the role of the light-bringer she reminds us that this circle will continue to turn.

This Imbolc I will shovel new snow and water the Moon Flowers I planted on Alban Arthan and light a candle for Brighid and the return of the light.