There Is A Light

There are a lot of intense emotions right now. If I could have seen through the eyes of America, as an insect with a thousand tiny facets of sight, I’m sure I would have seen a whole lot of burning red and cloying dark. Politics in America have always been weird and sticky as long as I’ve been aware, fueled by hope, desperation, and any number of secret (or not so secret) self-serving agendas. This election in particular has been just unbelievable. An election driven by desperate, life-threatening fear on both sides, the economic and social futures of a diverse nation at risk all couched in a nightmare world where the civil liberties of the American minority shiver under the guillotine. We live in a time where more people than ever have a megaphone and, as a result, there are more truths and more lies than ever. There is a lot and I mean a lot of noise out there and I don’t know about you but when I hear a thunder of hooves I expect horses, not hamburgers. (You can have that one, Readers Digest)

So here we are, several days after a presidential election that will surely go down in history as being something just out of this world. And for as much hope and promise this result means to the struggling agriculture of the heartland (and I’m certainly rooting for them) this election brings fear and panic to so many others who feel that The White House is just months away from officially invalidating their marriages, deporting their families, and persecuting us for our faith. On a campaign driven by fear and hate there is still so much worry and anger stirring in our great melting pot.

Now I am no political scientist and I can guarantee my views on policy in this great nation do not match yours. That is what makes America such a wonderful home, in my humble opinion. My husband and I can vote differently on the plastic bag referendum and still look each other in the eye. (Just an example. We obviously stand together on this. We own a pet.) What I will say on this election, however, and what I truly do hope we share, is a hope that positivity can come out of this electoral term. Hope springs ever eternal and I would love nothing more to see our economy strong, our citizens safe, and all those that feel threatened, neglected, and trod upon to have their future and liberty assured both in their hearts and in the hearts of others. Maybe this will be the greatest presidential term in modern history. Maybe it will be the most difficult. For now, for all who will sit with me, let us take a moment of calm…

There is no shame in fear. If you feel afraid for yourself and for others, face it. Understand it. See the beast and it’s eyes, know it’s face, and seek the wisdom to protect yourself. Every man, woman, and creature is a kingdom unto themselves and your reign need not be subject to the force of another. I emplore all of you, please, reach not first for the musket or the macuahuitl. The Earth Mother sups from Her children as we from Her breast. Feed Her not blood and hate. All that walk this blue marble will one day be an Ancestor and we should strive in our time to grow wise and strong, for when we are called on by future generations I would wish to provide the same guidance and strength we have been so blessed to receive.

So be afraid if you are, but please do not panic. Roar first, bite last. Fill your head with wisdom and word from those above, those below, and those who walk beside you. Send letters, seek support, enable those who can help, research the matters that mean the most to you, learn the guts and nuts of the policies that you are passionate about.

 

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Divination Journal – 11/11/16

When I woke up, far before I meant to, I felt compelled to ritual. It was my first full rite in what must have been more than a week. It was still quite dark. I lit a single tea light inside the lantern and established the hallows. As the realms joined and all was both calm and alive, I noticed something beautiful. The flame stood tall and unwavering in that lamp, the panes of glass surrounding it creating this beautiful corridor reflection, a trail of candlelight going on forever. Above, the shape of a star, cast through an opening in the lantern, shining on the wall above my art of Dea Artio and Nantosuelta. It was shakingly powerful. When it came to call for omens I called upon Her directly. Nehalennia, guardian of the seas, the light on the shore. I called for guidance and protection not just for our home, but for all those who felt such uncertainty in this challenging time.

Her voice was soft, but present all the same. Kenaz, Laguz, Eihwaz. They all sat, nestled atop one another. After a beat, Berkano.

There is a flame of wisdom on the water. Let the lighthouse be your strength.

[It’s interesting, these relationships we form with the Kindreds. So much of a family is said but there is so much left unsaid, feelings that are primal and innate. Dea Artio, Nantosuelta… They come to me as mothers. Nehalennia… I feel that it is most right to call her closer to a sister… A good friend. Her wisdom is no less powerful than that of motherhood, but it certainly has a flavor all it’s own. The runes bear the same words but the accent is different.]

The lighthouse is an impartial power. Not all boats on the ocean carry the same goods, nor fly the same flags. But when storms crash down or fog sets in thick all sailors seek sanctuary. They want to stand on the land and see their family one more time. I pray, my friends, turn not toward the lightning but toward the torch and see your feet safely home to sail again.