Some things I learned from blackberries

blackberries

  Green as glass White as snow Red as blood Black as coal What am I?-Traditional riddle "The Hermetic tradition defines three magical works: the black work of deathlessness and destruction; the white work of illumination and rebirth; and the red work of power over the earth. This ancient color triad...corresponds to the first three colors to be defined in human languages. But the next color to be defined in language is green, which is the complement to red as white is … [Read more...]

The material, the sacred and the erotic: a contemplation for Lammas

My 2007 homemade Lammas loaf: 100% rye, 100% sourdough

In this week's ponderings provoked by Seeking the Mystery, I'm looking at my sense of place through the lens of the sacredness of materiality, bodies and sexuality.Today is the final day of the feast of Lugh, also known as Lammas or Loaf mass. We bake bread as a sacred act. We eat that bread as a spiritual act and an act of community. We are literally connected to the earth: we chew and ingest and digest the grain; we absorb its nutrients. Without other beings in place with us, we would not … [Read more...]

The land is made of stories

"The Coming of Bride" by John Duncan (1917)

Today in the Christian calendar is Epiphany: the official end of the 12 days of Christmas. In the Roman calendar which was adopted by Christianity, the 12 day festival of Saturnalia, beginning on 25th December, was a period out of ordinary time, a time of divination through dream and weather watching of what to expect in the year to come.For all that the period between the winter solstice and Epiphany is a time of rest, review and renewal, it's always a relief to me to be able to put this … [Read more...]

Lessons from the river

River Clyde, Glasgow, Scotland

I spent most of my young life living near the ocean. I could never imagine what it was like for people who never saw a beach in their lives, or who called the banks of a large lake "the beach". To me, the idea that a place where the waves weren't large enough to surf could be called a beach seemed silly, wrong headed, even. I grew up taking great comfort from the smell of the sea, the blanket of fog in the morning and evening, and the sounds of the waves. So, when I was 29 and found myself far … [Read more...]


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