The contrast between indoor coziness and exterior misery has something to do with this, I'm sure. But the real reason I love winter is because of the absolute clarity that this time of year brings. It is a clarity that doesn't come from books or journaling or other people. It is a clarity that comes straight from the source.

And here is an example. Standing on the edge of my snow covered lawn, I hear a crow call from the woods and a moment later another responds and even before the words come, I know something I didn't know before. 

A few years ago I came in from another cold lawn and wrote that it takes determination to make a go of winter in Northeast PA. But the truth is that it takes more than determination - it takes hope. And just now, out in the wet snow, I realized something I should have figured out a long time ago. 

Hope is a commitment we make to ourselves. There is something about the darkness this season brings, something about the way it almost overpowers the light, that helps us see just how much that light means. I believe that this is why we light yule logs and Menorahs and Christmas lights. 

Because in the midst of darkness, we need to remember that light is hope and that hope is a promise we must keep. 

This year, a relationship I used to believe in is in trouble and people I care about are trying to make their way through a very difficult holiday. Words are my gift but in this words have failed me.

So I light a candle and I remind myself that even if no one else can see it right now that's okay because there are times when they did and there will be times when they will again. And I know that, eventually, we will all get a chance to keep that flame going and that this year it is my turn to hold the light. 

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.

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.

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.

"A goal is a dream with a deadline." Napoleon Hill

Every year, I set my New Year's resolutions early and work with them for weeks.  I annoy my friends and family by asking them about their resolutions and find it very hard to accept that some people simply will not make them - no matter how many times I ask.

Who can resist a fresh start?  A new opportunity?  A wide open future?  

Certainly not me.  To my mind, the new year just isn't the new year without a resolution.  And according to a University of Scranton study 45% of people agree.  Sadly, out of that 45% (who always set a resolution) only 8% will succeed. But all is not discouraging. 

The same study goes on to report that those who "explicitly make resolutions are 10 times more likely to attain their goals" than those of us who don't. Or, in other words, specific resolutions work, while vague ones often don't.

And this is the difference, I suppose, between a resolution and a goal.  

Unlike the average resolution, goals include specific and realistic targets - complete with numbers, dates and deadlines.  Setting these quantifiable, number specific targets help make our intentions real, moving them out of our minds and into the material world - where they belong.

So if you're feeling shaky about your New Year's resolutions, take a few minutes to write them out.  Now look them over. Are they vague or specific?  Do they have numbers?  When do they end?

Answer these questions, in writing, and read through what you have written at least once a day.  In doing so you can find yourself among the 8% who succeed - effective December 31st 2015 or before!

*Stats courtesy of StatisticBrain.com.

There is no getting around it - here in the northeast, winter is our darkest season. The days are short and the nights are long and our precious daylight hours are often dimmed by overcast skies or falling snow.

This is why cultures all around the world choose the midpoint of the season to remember and celebrate the light.  We're drawn to these celebrations because there is something about the light shining in the darkness that speaks to us deep within our soul.

Now, for most of us, our seasonal celebrations are drawing to close.  And it's not unusual to feel a drop in energy (and optimism) when this time comes.

This week, as I put away my decorations, I'm opening my curtains, burning my holiday candles and thinking of new and different ways of honoring the light. And it occurs to me that a hearth fire would be the perfect thing.  I don't have a fireplace in this house but I do have an idea.

When my son and I built the shelves in the living room we left a place for a TV.  Over time however we realized that having a TV in the den was enough for us and that listening to music is a better living room activity.  So we moved the TV out.

I tried to fill the space with a few crystals and candles but it didn't really work.  So my idea is to make this spot my "hearth" creating a focal point of light and warmth that will reflect the energy of fire into my interior space.

I'll be doing this with a large mirror (donated by my son) and all the candles I can find.  A bit of green would be nice, too.

Hopefully I'll have pics of  my new honoring the light "hearth" by the end of the weekend - so please do check back.  Until then, remember that, just like the moon flower, the seeds of summer have taken root and will soon began to bloom  <3

Everyone loves a cozy winter night gathered around the fireplace or bundled up in an afghan in the warm glow of candle or Christmas lights.  Warmth is comfort at this time of year and many of us take extra steps to keep out the cold by weatherizing doors and windows.

When it comes to our heating bills these steps make sense.  But there is a flip side to creating barriers against the season.  Weather tight homes don't "breath" leading to stale indoor energy and that familiar closed in feeling called cabin fever.

This winter I'm working hard to break up stale energy and open the channels that allow environmental energies to flow by clearing, cleaning and organizing my space. 

In the days leading up to New Year's Eve, I worked hard on my bedroom and kitchen.  When I was done with the bedroom, I hung the wind chime (left) from the inside corner of my bed to help move and clear any stagnant energies - and honor the element of air.

Wind chimes are a classic Feng Shui fix and they really do work.  Another thing I love, whenever I turn over in bed I hear a delicate tinkling chime!

I do have more to do but I feel that I'm off to a good start for 2015.  Now to work on my resolutions :)

What is the easiest way to recreate yourself?

Online of course.  Sometimes this doesn't mean much in a real-time lifestyle sort of way and sometimes it does.  Sometimes our online persona bleeds through to our everyday reality. Sometimes it is even a starting point of sorts.

Case in point?  This blog.

I began this blog in 2010 following a series of spiritual events that did not quite fit in with my everyday experience. All of that began, as so many things do, with a dream. 

This dream was no ordinary dream.  It was complex and vivid and remarkably coherent.  It was also indescribably, overwhelming and unforgettably beautiful! Waking up from that dream I knew that something important had happened but it would take time for me to understand just what that something was.

When my everyday experience began to echo the events of the dream, however, the pieces began to fall into place and my spiritual journey began to gather momentum.

I was, and to some degree still am, alone on that path.  And if there is any one reason why I started this blog - that was it.  I wasn't happy in world where no one understood my journey, so I decided to share what I was learning here - and I kept sharing, week in and week out, right up to the present day. Doing that changed me and at certain points it was necessary for the blog to change, too.  

I have changed the look and focus of the blog several times. This is my newest recreation. Let me know what you think!

How do we navigate the cold and the increasing darkness winter brings?

By welcoming the energy of this incredible season into our lives!  And this is what I resolved to do earlier this month when I wrote my Embracing the Seasons: 7 Steps to a Better Winter post.

I began with Step 7 (bring a bit of nature indoors) and added a branch of evergreen to my altar.  I've kept that going by adding a small pot of Morning Glory seeds and a freshly repotted Jade plant to that same space.  Later today, I'm going to take a walk and find a new nature item to put there as well.

In this post, however, I wanted to talk about Step 6 (Break Up Stale Energy) because that is a big one for me.

My house is perpetually under construction and I toggle between remodeling, organizing, and cleaning as best I can.  It's balancing act and isn't unusual for this delicate balance to skew - sometimes quite markedly - in the wrong direction.  

We use our homes for so many things and they can become the repository of so much stuff!  In my case I have boxes in the kitchen (waiting for a home in the new cabinets which are yet to built), paint removal supplies and drop clothes in the front hall, a home office that is rapidly approach the I-can't-see-the-top-of-my-desk stage and a closet I don't even want to discuss.

Some of this is unavoidable, right now, but a lot of it is not.  Changing what you can change is an important step in the direction of transformation.  One of my main goals right now is to transform my home.  So it is really important for me to look at the things that I can do today.

I don't know if I can complete my remodeling goals this season but I can clear and revitalize my space, allowing the element of air to flow freely from one end of the house to the next.  And for the next two days, this is my mission.  I'll be reading Denise Linn's wonderful book "Sacred Space: Clearing and Enhancing the Energy of Your Home" in my spare time and I will be posting before and after pics (I think).

Perhaps because I'm a fire sign, on the cusp of an earth sign, with a moon sign and ascendant ruled by water - the element of air is my favorite element.  And I love winter and the clear, cold current of inspiration that so easily can overtake us at this time of year.  

My goal is to let that current flow.  Wishing all of you that same wonderful energy!

The snow started to fall here in Northeast PA on Wednesday morning and continued through the day, covering the garden, and softening the untended edges of the yard.  The woods behind the house filled with snow and the path that leads up the hill was buried.  And I was glad to see it.  

I love the changing seasons and the rhythm our circling earth supplies. But I know that each season brings its own unique set of opportunities and challenges and that this is especially true of winter.

For me, winter is a time of clarity and inspiration.  A time of creativity and deep thought and blinding illumination.  Winter opens the mind to new things, things we would have never thought of in other softer seasons, things that can put the whole rest of the year into a meaningful perspective.

But winter is a time of limitation, too.  Those of us living in the colder climates may feel hemmed in by snow or cold or icy roads.  We might not get outside as much as we would like and even when we do go out - the days end early.  This can affect us in many different ways and some of us may struggle to keep our spirits high.

I have found that the best way to keep my spirits up is by celebrating the unique energies of this very special season.  Here are a few tips that have helped me:

Today on the equinox, day and night are equal.  But that isn't going to last.  The days are getting shorter.  Winter is on its way.  Today I saw a hawk flying in the most vivid of blue skies.  Two crows called - a winter sound if I ever heard one.  Life is always moving.  Always on its way to something else.  But there is something to be said for the moment, even as it passes. 

Today I realized that I always think of autumn in the context of a world on its way to winter.  For me that is not a bad thing - at least not entirely.  Winter is an uncomfortable season here in Northeastern PA but it is a beautiful one as well and it has a depth to it that other seasons lack.  Still this time, this season should be important in its own right and I should honor it as such.

So today I sat out side and thought about the turning trees, the falling leaves, the woodland debris on its way to becoming earth.  Summer seeding the land in a different sort of way.  Not sprouting but preparing.  Today the sky was blue and the sun was bright and I sat outside with my journal and mapped out a new course. 

This course includes more time out of doors and I intend to honor that commitment through the cold months and into spring.  As always I will blog about it <3

The following pictures are taken on the top of the mountain behind our house, on a small parcel of woods that lies between us and the development.  If I could have one thing it would be to buy it and keep it as is forever.

My backyard though not really (legally) mine and well outside of my ability to protect.  Still in this space between what was and what will be - we walk, take deep breaths and look out from one mountaintop to another.  Beyond the the trestle and past the curve of the river, just out of view of this picture, is the land that once belonged to my grandfather. Land that I won't see up close again. Everything changes but the moment is always eternal. I'm grateful for all that offers.

As everyone who follows this blog knows, I am involved in the extensive remodeling of a sadly neglected old home.  Work on the house has focused on cleaning and rebuilding thus far and both have required more work than we anticipated - and we anticipated a lot.  Working long hours and seeing not a lot of measurable progress has been stressful for everyone.

I bought the house in a little over a month ago and I took my first break Monday to go to an auction in search of furniture.  It was a long auction and hot and I have to say that didn't enjoy it at all.  There was a chair there I loved - an old Morris chair in need of repair - and it would have been perfect for my new under-construction living room. I regretted having given up on it so easily.  

In the wake of the house purchase and paying for repairs we could not do ourselves, there is no money for retail furnishings.  I had firmly decided, however, that it would be silly to go the expensive and labor of moving our old worn out living room set.  I needed new inexpensive furnishings.  And I did not have the time to go from auction to auction hunting down bargains.  I had not only wasted an opportunity but an entire morning as well.  I felt inordinately disappointed.

Suddenly and inexplicably everything seemed insurmountable.  My new home was a mess and I wasn't sure I had the fortitude to finish what I'd begun.  I had started out with such high hopes.  Now every issue with the house was proving more difficult than I had anticipated.  Why is it, I asked myself, that things never work out?

I left the auction dispirited with a colonial (mahogany) secretary desk which did not match any of my existing furniture and a dark cloud hanging over my head.    I felt quite ready to give up on everything even though this was not possible.  

The following evening there was another auction, however, one I did not normally attend.  I was still down but I had regrouped enough to give it chance.  My partner and I walked around and looked at the furniture, writing down what we were willing to spend and vowing to stick to it. The same strategy which had lost me the Morris chair but a necessary one.

Unlike the first auction, this one was a success.  We were able to win every item on our list without going over our allotted budget on a single item.  We were now the proud owners of a camel back sofa in the exact style I had hoped for, two plum colored overstuffed easy chairs (in the very shade I had wanted to use in the new living room) and a beautiful colonial mahogany canopy bed and dresser which could have been carved from the same tree as our secretary.

I am not ordinarily a materialistic person but taking these new pieces of furniture to our new still uncompleted house was  incredibly reaffirming.  Looking at our new living 'set' swaddled in sheets, it occurred to me just how well things had worked out.  I had missed out on the Morris chair, yes, but as a direct result I had netted everything I needed to fill up our new living room and furnish a new bedroom as well.  What's more the house now looked like it could be home - with just a little more work.

I don't particularly believe in the spiritual route to material success and I don't think that the powers that be care about the size of my TV or the shine on my car or the numbers I write in my checkbook.  I do think, however, that I was in desperate need of a bit of encouragent.  And that it was no accident that I received it.