branches up, roots down

I’m coming down from a mighty cone o’ power. All around the city you can feel the effects of the magical hangover which is the Monday after Gay Pride Weekend. I’m sure that for many, the magical hangover is more complicated. Dionysus loves this crowd, and the Queer Gods grace this party with their perpetual indulgences. It’s a great rite, with a constant gathering crowd, starting with a Tranny March on Friday, the Dyke March on Saturday (which ends up in the Castro where the Sisters of, yes, Perpetual Indulgence preside over a huge street party), and then the humongous Pride March on Sunday. All the while, a huge pink triangle graces the city from the heights of Twin Peaks . My girlfriend is one of the eight women who put on the Dyke March , which is feat of magic in itself. The Dyke March is actually an afternoon concert, a political action, a huge picnic party, and a march, all rolled into one. Oh, and it’s also transformative ritual. Somehow they do this all without any c...

The sun is going down and the clouds are pouring over Twin Peaks , the sun glowing thru with a silver luminescence particular to this magical city. Tomorrow morning the sun will rise and reign over the sky. It will be summer solstice, the longest day of the year. If we are lucky, the sun will triumph and the day will be bright. In San Francisco , summer is unpredictable. I’m rooting for the sun, but with every moment, the fog thickens. At the beach rituals I participated in for so many years, often planning and priestessing as well, we would build a wicker man and burn him. To the odd assortment of baskets and branches rigged up to create an effigy of a man, we would attach old spells, charms, letters, and other things we were ready to let go of. As the days have gotten longer I’ve been thinking about what has been illuminated in the last turn of the wheel. This of course, has led me to looking at what I am ready to let go of. For many years, my practice as a witch f...

As solstice approaches, the light seems to intensify life. I'm being tested on keeping my hearts in alignment....something I recently wrote about for the British Reclaiming Newsletter. Many in that community identify as Reclaiming Feri, and work intensely with my concept of the three hearts. It hasn't stopped conflict from occurring, and sadly a recent conflict was a factor in Avalon camp being canceled for this year. It has, however, assisted in many in that community behaving with integrity and coming from a place of compassion, even while speaking hard truths. A level of nastiness that sometimes occurs in pagan community has not been allowed to gather strength. I believe Avalon will come back stronger for it. Below is an re-edited version of the article on the three hearts.... Thirteen years ago Coven Triskets, of which I was a member, met several times with Victor and Cora Anderson, the founders of the Feri tradition. We were all Reclaiming witches working towards...

She has many names. Some have been forgotten. Some still remain. Look around. She is everywhere.

I was teaching at witchcamp in England almost two years ago when calling home I learned that. my housemate was going to Crawford , Texas to help publicize that a mother of a son killed in Iraq had started a peace encampment outside the president’s home. By the time I got home, Cindy Sheehan was a name that everyone knew, as well as the name of her son, Casey. On Memorial Day, Cindy Sheehan once again made news, this time by publicly withdrawing and putting up for sale “ Camp Casey ”, a place than several of my friends have traveled to. I’d been thinking some about Cindy Sheehan the week before and about all the other mothers who have lost children in war. In that week, I’d been feeling how difficult it is to let go of children and also about how the direct effects and cost of the war had crept just a tad closer to my life. I have a fifteen year old son who also has the name Casey. Our life here in San Francisco can sometimes be at a far remove from the rest of the...