Even a weak flame can burn steadily on.

Yesterday my older sister turned thirty five and I had a cill shift for Brigid.

I always say that Loki is the presence behind all the healing in my relationships but that is not the case here. Brigid is, and always has been, the driving force behind my tentative relationship with my older sister. I wish I could say that I adore my older sister. I wish I could say that we have inside jokes and that I am overjoyed to see her when I visit my family in Washington State.
I wish I could say that I know her and like her.

I can't say those things though, and truth be told it causes me pain to know that I don't give her a chance.

I know what Brigid wants here. She wants the same thing Loki wants. They want me to fix this relationship. My sister has tried, in so far as she is able. I know that she could try harder, but then again...so could I.

A few years ago my older sister was going through a deeply painful and emotionally draining situation and I did the only thing I could think of to give her comfort. I gave her a Brigid's Cross necklace and told her to pray to Brigid for strength. When that necklace broke last year I bought her a new one and as far as I know, she wears is daily.

I see my relationship with my sister as a small flame. It's tiny, but it holds strong in the wind that beats against it. Much like Brigid did in a world that tried to forget Her.

It is my prayer that one day our tiny flame will be as large as the hearth fire that is my relationship with my younger sister.

Happy 35th Birthday Christina. I love you, though I do not know how to express it to you. I wish for you only the best in the years to come. May Brigid's sacred flame always burn brightly in your heart and hearth and may you always know the strength of Her arms around you.

Bees - a poem for Brigid

As a girl I heard that God would give us wings like eagles.

I never dreamt of eagles wings.

I longed for the delicate wings of the bee.

Small, yet mighty.

It wasn’t an eagles wings that flew me to the feet of the divine.

I was carried there on the wings of bees.

A colony. A hive.

Small, yet mighty.

They lifted me.

They guided me.

They took me to Her.

At Her feet I was left.

At Her table I was fed.

At Her side, I am learning.

She, who is the fire.

She, the living water.

She, the flamed haired one.

Brigid. Bríd. Brigantia.

Her name, like honey on my lips.

Her hands carried me - like so many bees.

And lay me down on a field of green.

Where I thrive.

Where I grow.

As a girl, I was told that God would help me rise up on the wings of eagles.

As a woman, I know that we don’t need eagles to survive.

We need bees.

Their Altar

One of the things I have noticed, and written about before, about worshiping Loki is this: You don't JUST worship Loki.

He comes with others. He isn't alone. Maybe He will bring His children. Maybe one of His wives. Maybe His mother. Maybe His blood brother. He knows who He wants to have with Him. My worship of Loki always includes Sigyn. His altar space in my home has toys and candy for Narvi and Vali and if I light a candle for Him there had better be a candle for Sigyn. There is no other option.

When my coven decided we would do a Pagan style lent and spend the days between Imbolc and Ostara saying a shared daily prayer (along with prayers to our personal deities) it never even crossed my mind to NOT light a candle for Her.

I love Brigid. She has my heart in ways I can not explain. I adore Loki. Where They lead me I will always follow. Freyja has been here for a while as well but Sigyn... I never expected her. I've slowly slipped into a place where I can not worship Him without thinking of Her. She keeps Him strong. She keeps Him young. She reminds Him that love is alive and allowed and real. She ... She is amazing.

So, before I get too choked up thinking about it, here is Their altar. It started out as Loki's space. Slowly, over the past year, it has become Their space. It is only just now though, as I write this, that I realize how much more my life is because She stands by His side and He refuses to let Her be looked over. It just accrued to me that I need another candle. This one for Angrboda.

Hail Loki! Hail Sigyn! Hail Narvi & Vali! Hail Angrboda!

Goddess of Poetry...

My coven decided to honor the three faces of Brigid for Imbolc. I was given the task of writing something for the aspect of Her that is the Goddess of poetry. This is the result.

Goddess of Poetry.

Oh! Goddess of mine.

Sweet Bríd, the ink of my pen.

You inspire me.

My words, blessed by you.

Refined in your sacred fire.

These words, my soul bared.

You speak and I write.

My words inspired by you.

Bright poetic flame.

Hail, to you, Brigid.

Goddess of Inspiration.

words flow like water.

Bríd. Sacred water.

Inspiration flows from you.

Verdant cloaked Goddess.

Give me words to write.

You are the Mother of Bards.

Shakespeares one true muse.

Hail Brigid.  

Be A Light In Dark Places

I love you Flaming Arrow.

I love you Lady of the Forge.

I love you Healing Waters.

I love you Goddess turned Saint.

I love you Forever Flame.

I love you Flaming Hair.

I love you Lady of Kildare.

I love you Daughter of Danu.

I love you Lady of Imbolc.

Brigid. Brìghde. Fraid. Breo Saighead. Bríd.

Sweet Lady of Flame and Healing Waters, I love you.

Hail Bríd. Mother of my heart. Beloved Goddess.

I adore you.

Shine bright, like a diamond.

I've been given a bit of guff from members of the Pagan community because of my blending of Jewish traditions into my personal path/religious practice.

I've never really understood why people take issue with it, but like many things that go unanswered, I'm not overly concerned with the whys. I am happy with my path and the steps I am  taking along it. I don't give a flying frog fart about what other people think about it. It is MY journey after all. Not theirs.

I am saying this because tonight I will be lighting the two menorahs we own and sitting in the glow of the candle light and reflecting on how I can be like those candles.

You see, when I light the candles I make sure all of the lights in my apartment are off. I then light the shamash (shamash means servant and is the candle that sits slightly higher than the rest. It is used to light the candles with. Basically, a "need fire" candle) and reflect on how I am like the little candle. On it's own the shamash gives off a bit of light but not all that much. It is bright in the darkness but it is alone.

As I say the prayers and light the other candles I reflect on how those candles are like the people around me. The men and women I deal with on a daily basis. The shamash shares it's flame with the other candles and takes them from from thin bits of wax and turns them into shining beacons. Warm and bright in the darkness.

When all of the candles are lit my apartment has a bit of a glow to it. Warmth radiates from my altar (where I keep the menorahs) and the living room is bright enough that I can see in the darkness. Sure, the candles don't light all of the rooms in my apartment but the room I am in is warm and filled with cheer because of those tiny lights, all in a row, working together to push aside the darkness.

That is really what the winter holidays are all about in my opinion. They aren't about the Christ child, or the newly born Sun god. They aren't about a battle fought by a rag-tag army generations upon generations ago. They aren't about heritage or culture. The winter holidays are about light in the darkness. They are about hope for a new beginning. The sweet promise of a new and better time to come.

We celebrate in the darkness with our lights because we are celebrating, just as our ancestors did, a time when the dark was more than winter gloom. We are celebrating a promise. The promise of a spring to come. We are celebrating the hope that we will live through the dark and cold. Through the snow and ice that is surely to come. We are celebrating the idea that we will be here to see the spring again and know the warmth of the sun on our faces.

We are all lighting candles, or tree lights, and sending unspoken wishes of survival out into the dark. Each candle and light is a tiny statement of bravery. Each pinprick of light is shinning in the darkness and proclaiming that it knows that the darkness and cold of winter are coming but that it is not afraid because it is not alone.

It is my prayer for you, as I light my Chanukah candles and then again for Saint Lucia day, then the 12 days of Yule, that you will be a light in the darkness.

May your inner light of strength and compassion shine brightly in the darkness.
May you find peace and happiness in the years to come.
May you be a beacon unto those who need a helping hand.

Happy Holidays and to tweak a quote from Tiny Tim...

May the Gods bless us, every one!

Can I use a birthday candle in a pinch?

Today is my 30th birthday. When I think about the implications of that I smile. 

I have taken 30 trips around the sun. I have lived, laughed, loved, cried, fought, and fallen in love for 30 years. While that number isn't as "great" as the numbers my friends and family can claim, I am happy with it. 

As I have mentioned in past posts, I love Loki but my heart belongs to Brigid. Not only is it my birthday, but I also have a flame tending shift for Her today. I am having a hard time not seeing that as a sign. 

I have been struggling with the idea of who I am in regards Her and the faces of the Goddess for a few months. 

I am not a maiden by any stretch of the imagination, but I am also not the traditional idea of a mother. 

It is my hope, and if I am honest with myself my birthday wish, that I will be able to call myself a Priestess of Brigid by the time I have completed my 40th trip around the sun. 

And on that note... I have nothing else to say besides:

Hail Brigid, 

Breo-saighead - Flaming Arrow.

Fire of Inspiration.

Smith of so much more than metal. 

Lady of Fire and Water.

You are my heart. 

You are my passion.

You are my Goddess.

I honor you today. 

Hail Brigid.