The Gods are not out there, beyond us, untouchable beings of light in ivory towers. They are in all of us. Their blood and bone, vices and virtues, life and death, we see in ourselves, not just as reflections in a mirror, but as embodiments of the light and darkness of one world turning.
A view of the solar system. Mother Truth's melodies. 1878.
Emily Skaja, from “Thank You When I'm An Axe”, Brute
The Gods are not out there, beyond us, untouchable beings of light in ivory towers. They are in all of us. Their blood and bone, vices and virtues, life and death, we see in ourselves, not just as reflections in a mirror, but as embodiments of the light and darkness of one world turning.
“Let them know that you grind skulls to dust. Let them know that you eat corpses like a lion.”
— Enheduanna, Enheduana: The Complete Poems of the World’s First Author, to Inanna
Let it be known.
I worship the Goddess.
[...]
She is naked and savouring every petal and thorn.
She churns the wheel of time and casts the seeds of manifestation, without rhyme or reason.
She is senseless and crazy, innocent and free.
Her skin is the colour of heartbreak and her eyes the sound of laughter.
She takes no prisoners. She cannot be contained or rationalized.
She won’t conform to my ideas of what reality is or how things should be.
Just when I think I have her under control she takes – me – down.
She will not be dominated; she always wins.
[...]
She is the undercover agent of divine madness,
whose ruthlessness is the compassion that severs my ignorance and undoes my separation,
so that I may know her deeply and drink in the wild radiance of her holy mess.
With all that I am I submit to her.
With all that I am I prostrate before her insane beauty.
She demands the death of all my control.
When I am humble and true, she comes to me.
“Dance!” she says. “Why aren’t you dancing?”
I surrender all reason; she will not be tamed.
[...]
Maya Luna - Hymn to Inanna
a little bunny looking at the stars in case you're having a bad day.
˚ . ✧
✧. ★ ˚
★ ☄︎
˚ ✧ ˚
*. ⋆
“Dark woods, pagan suns, birdsong and bells, roses and brooms,”
— Michael Hamburger, from “A Legend; Simone del Manzecca,” wr. c. 1969
Rooted in Slavic tradition, village magic represents a balance between the Christian egrégor and Slavic paganism. How did this happen? It all began with Princess Olga, the first ruler to embrace Christianity. By the 9th century, the coexistence of Varangian and Slavic paganism alongside Christianity was evident. As we know, we can blame Olga's grandson, Vladimir, for the Christianization of Russia.
By the end of the 10th century, three major religions dominated the world: Christianity, Islam, and Buddhism. However, Vladimir chose to follow in the footsteps of his great-grandmother, Princess Olga, and embraced Christianity. According to another version, ambassadors sent to different countries helped him make his choice: each shared what their religion had to offer, but it was Christianity that captivated him with its beauty (the only one where you could drink Cahors).
Yet, one cannot simply replace one religion with another. Yes, we can discard idols, drive everyone into rivers, and forcefully baptize. But unfortunately, we cannot rewrite minds. During the day, people would attend church services, while in the evenings they would offer tributes to household spirits and embroider protective charms on their shirts.
Village magic employs various methods for practice and work, primarily using structured spells. Some even rewrote spells “in a new way,” incorporating “amen,” and addresses to God and saints. Simple protective charms were made from materials at hand—usually wood, scraps of fabric, wool threads, animal teeth, and anything found in the forest.
There is an extensive knowledge base for working with herbs. Practitioners didn't shy away from dealing with spirits and demons. They continued to honor the same traditions of Slavic paganism. Village tradition is a unique balance. At that time (and for many years afterward), magic was condemned, and paganism was being eradicated. Therefore, village magic became a way to disguise and simplify practices as much as possible. No grand gestures or loud incantations—just whispers over herbs and water or spells for a broom while cleaning. A charm hidden in a needle tucked away in a doorframe was the only way to avoid being labeled a "witch" or "sorcerer."
april in northern california, 2024
You know what I think is neat? Scorpions. The answer is always scorpions. Well, yes, that, but also the fact that we magical practitioners, witches, pagans, polytheists, and so forth can all have such different experiences with the same things, and all of those experiences are just as real as each other. Good or bad, beneficial or not... Even two people reading the same book in our niche will be two different experiences when you get down into the minute details. Hell yeah.
Allow yourself to embrace the transformation that the season of autumn brings, like leaves surrendering to the wind. Let go of what no longer serves you, & trust that new growth will emerge from the ashes of what's past. May the wisdom of autumn guide you through life's cycles, & may your spirit be nourished by the beauty of nature's decay~
