what is remembered

In the past week, a week I've been missing writing, two different people told me they had read this blog and wondered why I didn't keep writing. The second person, someone new (several years) to Reclaiming, the spiritual "community" that I was part of for the bulk of my life,  asked me questions that continue to be hard to answer. As I lay in bed last night I thought about what I wrote to that community's email forum back in 2016 and  knew I should post it here. It does not include, of course, the hubbub.  I knew that, as per usual, naming the elephant would bring castigation on my head. And of course, it did. I was accused of getting into other people's personal business, of once again gossiping about something that was not mine to talk about. What really should be saved for history is the reaction to articles and posts I wrote over the decades in Reclaiming. They, to tell the truth, are the real story. They are hard to explain, to fathom. Readers not entrenched in the energetic field of Bay Area Reclaiming can't understand why the strong reaction, why me writing about my experience and thoughts were (are) so threatening. What I wrote below was publicly denounced. And, as per usual, the public denouncements were balanced by double the private emails and calls of support and gratitude. How to explain this to someone new to the community, or someone outside it? I can't, really.  So, here, for the record, what just might be my swan song in Reclaiming. 

Charlie Murphy, songwriter, singer and activist,

died on August 6^th, 2016.  Charlie was an important and beautiful

voice in the burgeoning Pagan and movement of the

1980’s.  His work elegantly blended Pagan and Queer

themes. When I listen to his album “Catch the Fire” I

remember what it was like to be a San Franciscan Pagan while

an epidemic raged and our magic and action was required. His

song “The Burning Times” is as close as we come to

having a Pagan anthem.  What is remembered, lives!  Long

live, Charlie Murphy!

His death has me also remembering the decades of

merriment and magic that centered on the Black Cat house,

home and shelter to so many Pagans and activists over the

years.  One of my best memories of both Charlie and the

Black Cat was on the occasion of Starhawk’s 40th birthday

in 1991.  The house thrummed with possibility, joy and

power.  I was pregnant with my one and only child and

remember singing a quiet private song about this being

exactly the right circle of folks to be born

into. 

And it was the right place for so many things

for so many years.  The Black Cat was the epicenter of the

Reclaiming community.  What happened there impacted and

sometimes shook the rest of the community. Initiations,

meetings, mediations, truth or dare games, relationships

that began (or ended) at one of the legendary parties, for

decades what happened at Black Cat influenced what happened

in the larger Reclaiming world. 

And now, something is again happening that is

impacting Reclaiming, or at least our local community. The

last of the original members, other than Starhawk, of the

Black Cat are leaving.  What happens to the house is not

certain. There is a cornucopia of stories, whispered,

implied on Facebook or list messages, talked about at

gatherings, and murmured at meetings about the dissolution

of the household. It’s not my place to tell the stories

I’ve heard or explore the whys and wherefores of what has

happened.  I hope that at some point this can be done by

the participants in the spirit of healing… for I firmly

believe that what happens not only at Black Cat, but in our

personal lives, impacts all the lives. To be a Witch means

to make meaning of our personal lives and ask each day, if

life were a dream, what does this mean?  I hope and trust

this will eventually happen. 

As many of you know, I think a lot about gossip

and how it serves and disserves community. There is a lot of

gossip now about Black Cat. It’s reached a point that it

is not serving community anymore unless we openly

acknowledge it.  I stepped out of that role consciously

years back. I step back into it now now as I mourn the

demise of Black Cat and the hopes and ideals that were

imbedded in it.  Everything comes to an end.  Every life,

every relationship, every household. It is part of my

spiritual path to honor those endings and remember what was

beautiful and good in the flourishing. 

I call on those who have done the following in

the Black Cat House: initiated others and/or been initiated

,who met in coven or circles who did ritual there, who

attended meetings or classes, who went to parties or sabbat

celebrations, who are friends and family to any who lived

there.  I call on you to remember the good times, the times

that brought out the best of us, the times we worked

together, the times we knew we were working magic within

those walls that would impact all the worlds.

I am sure it did.  What is remembered, lives.

Long live the Black Cat House. 

And I give my love and  support for a either a

new vision or a letting go.  More than anything, I honor

the decades of magic done in that dwelling. It is part of my

own personal history and the history of the Reclaiming

Tradition. 

Long live the Black Cat!!

Love,Deborah Oak