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On Meditation and Devotion: Weeks 10, 11, & 12

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March has been quite productive. Spring is definitely upon us!

Week 10

I’ve been working away from home for over half of the month, relying heavily on my portable altar for morning worship. I did not bring my tarot cards with me on my travels, which opened up space in my morning devotional that would normally be spent shuffling and reading. This allowed me to re-connect with the stillness, and place more of an emphasis on reaching out to the Kindreds.

On March 9th I wrote in my journal:

I spent more time in silence and stillness after making my offerings to the Kindreds. It felt good. For a moment, as I was trying to sense their presence, I thought I heard a bit of Irish music playing. I listened for a moment before my mind drifted….

Week 11

The first half of Week 11 was spent away from home, but I had acclimated to my hotel room. I rose each morning in complete darkness and went straight to the small coffee table I used to set up my altar. I started each devotional by atoning the AWEN and reading a series of prayers from the Pagan Ritual Prayer Book. These new additions to my practice felt very natural; a kind or re-connection to the religious tradition of my youth.

On March 12th, I was blessed with a deep experience of worship. I wrote:

This is the first morning in the last 3 that my meditation and worship was fully centered – fully heart-felt, and I attribute that to being done with my work for this trip. The last two days were fine; I made offerings and I held the space, but my mind drifted often, and I didn’t spend time in stillness or reflection. The offerings I made were sincere, though, as there has been an abundance of evidence of blessings in my life. The Kindreds are owed their due.

Today was special. My breath was deeper in, and my mind clear. I took my time speaking my words, paying close attention to direct them to each of the Kindred & to Brighid. I paused after each offering and thought, “Hail ___!”

Once my offerings had been made, I acknowledged how tremendous a week this has been. I spoke of the myriad of experiences and gave thanks that in all of them there was the presence of the Kindreds.

Filled with praise, I lifted up my hands and said, “HAIL” to each, recognizing them and their qualities and attributes. I also praised Arawn. Really praised Him.

Closing, I felt peace. Still do.

My religious tradition brings me so many good things. I am blessed. I am a warrior, and a seeker; a hope-filled bard who sees the world in vibrant color. My pen is my want and my voice is my Sacred Fire!

Week 12

This was a challenging week for me on account of a last minute trip, and a serious shortage of time spent with my husband. In addition, I had a rather poor experience at the Ostara ritual (which I wrote about here).

All this time I’ve been hoping that group ritual would satisfy a longing I had for religion and worship, but it was my solitary practice that brought me back into balance.

The following is a journal excerpt that elaborates on my my post-Ostara ritual experience :

Yesterday’s group ritual was a bust.

But today, alone in my sacred space, surrounded by the warmth and presence of the Great Kindreds, I experienced true worship. Heart open, mind centered, intention clear, I spoke words with sincerity, and in doing so I was welcomed into a great place – a place that felt both intensely close and eternally expansive. My mind’s eye saw the glow, and with my hands uplifted my entire self was whole in Their presence. I spoke a liturgy from the heart; the truest prayer. I spoke in my true voice.

 

I’m experiencing a true deepening of my personal, solitary practice. If it is ever meant to be matched with a rich, deep, group dynamic then so be it. If not, I feel enriched and strengthened by the power of worship and prayer… just me and the Three.

The Doing of the Details: Ostara 2011

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I’m a stickler for details.

As a kid, I was an acolyte. I had a wide range of responsibilities each Sunday. I lit the candles on either side of the altar, establishing the sacred space before service began. I stood beside the priest, assisting him in making preparations for the breaking of the bread. I chimed the bell at the appropriate moment in the liturgy, indicating a call to recognize an event of special importance within the narrative. And, I closed out the service by extinguishing the candles I had lit at the start. My action or stillness was all part of a great liturgical symphony; one that sounded out to me in a deep and resonant way.

The ritual was an act of service intended to facilitate, for all those present, a real, palpable, sensory experience of communion with the god we’d all come to worship. The details mattered because our spiritual lives mattered. Honor the details, and you honor our individual experiences of communion. Honor the details and, ultimately, you honor our god.

This childhood memory of a beloved weekly ritual stands in stark contrast to my experience of yesterday’s Ostara rite. Instead of feeling like I was taking part in something sacred, I felt as though I was simply standing on the periphery of a haphazard community theater performance; one in which the actors fall in and out of character, delivering their lines without conviction and with unconvincing accents, and seeming mostly disconnected and unaware of their audience.

So many things were missing; so many things didn’t come together. There was no attempt to create a group mind. There was no initial purification. The leader spent a great part of the ritual with a crying baby on his hip. There was no Omen on account of the divination tools having been left in the car. It all felt rather hodge-podge and thrown together; poorly planned and poorly executed.

I left feeling disheartened and disillusioned.

Worship must be more than role-play. I believe that effective group worship must be an engaging act that seeks to unite the people present in a common mind for a common purpose. The leaders must be teachers. They must be magicians. They must be priests. They must be open to the hearts and minds of all those present. And most importantly, they must be sincere.

This morning I woke up early, and I approached my altar. I stilled myself, and I lit my candles. I recited the words I’d chosen from the Pagan Ritual Prayer Book, and I cleared myself of all emotional, mental and spiritual impurities. I called on my Gatekeeper, Arawn, and with a contrite heart made offerings to the Kindreds and my Patron, Brighid. Then, from my most sincere place, I acknowledged the coming of the Spring, the frantic and explosive rebirth of life from death, and the multitude of blessings that are present all around me. In the process, I felt transported to another place. I felt surrounded by those Beings whom I came to honor. I felt, quite simply, the experience of Communion.

Once it was finished and the ritual done, I slowly and deliberately put out each flame. I whispered words beneath my breath. I payed attention to every detail.