branches up, roots down

I’ve been sleeping soundly for the past week, dreaming the kind of dreams that only can be described as sweet. My rhythm seems to be congruent with the season, and the movement of planets. Fern tells me that Mars went direct last week, and things that have felt stuck, will begin to move. For me, that move was immediate, and my mood found its mirror in the brilliant spring days. It’s nice to have a good friend who is an astrologer, who tells you when planets go direct, and who also gives you the heads up when a new moon is a particularly auspicious time for making wishes, Fern told me to do things yesterday that I wanted to bring into or maintain in my life. Check. And then some. Over coffee and with the magic of skype, I talked to a dear friend in England and we did some planning of Avalonspring . My son had the day off from school and we worked happily together on some details around next year's college. My son helped me garden, and I mindfully plant...

"We cannot change anything until we accept it.” Carl Jung I come from a spiritual tradition that believes that magic is the art of changing consciousness at will and that practicing this magic is our sacred duty. I have been in large groups of people more times than I can count, holding hands and doing a spiral dance, chanting “She changes everything she touches, and everything she touches, changes”. She, of course, is the Goddess. She is paradoxical gal, and she knows that the only constant is, yep, change. In the past months, I’ve been going through changes. Big Ones. And, oh, how I want to use my will to change this!!!! I’ve done countless cleansings, purifications, furniture has been moved, and every closet and drawer organized. I’m that kind of magician. I know how to cast a circle and wave around my athame and/or wand with charged gusto, but I find cleaning my refrigerator just as effective. Incantations, of course, are involved in both. So, I’ve ...

Being a therapist, and good friends with not just one, but TWO world-class dream workers, I am well acquainted with the transformative power of dreams. As a woman who has been grieving, I also am too well acquainted with the power of dreams to disturb and disrupt sleep. How many times can a person be run over by a white van, the dream shifting ever so slightly in whether I see it coming, stand firm, run , or get it from behind as I’m happily pulling weeds in a big garden? Apparently a lot, with even little additions like a hose that comes out and sprays boiling water on me, and a sound system blaring salsa music. Understanding the dream hasn’t made it go away, but I am working in dreamtime to get a vehicle of my own that can simply pass the white van and keep going. I know these white van dreams, and others like them, are part of the process of integrating loss into my being, are normal ways my unconsciousness is trying to make sense of the what makes absolutely...