Dancing with the Dark Goddess

Oh my, yes… This Scorpio New Moon is indeed a powerful one that will take us to our depths… willingly or unwillingly… it does not matter, for Scorpio is Hecate – the Dark Goddess of this season – and she has come to take us deeper as she has much to teach us about the inner mysteries.  She is Inanna and Ishtar, Isis and Persephone.  This journey is Never easy, but always profound and deeply transformative.

My midheaven (our life path) is in Scorpio and in Shamanic Astrology, for me, this translates to the idea that I am the sorceress witch who takes you to the deepest, most mystical places in order to effect deep, regenerative transformation. Never, never easy, but I have learned to go for the teachings are food for my soul.  I go because this is my life path and the wisdom gained is profound.  I go for what I learn is my medicine and my work in the world.

Does the Dark Goddess call to you during this season of turning inward and going downward?

Is She Who Stirs the Cauldron beckoning you come and release so that you may become an empty chalice, a vessel to be refilled by the things that truly fill your soul?

There’s no sense in resisting if you are called for you will go one way or the other.

This New Moon in watery Scorpio portends a deeply spiritual and shamanic journey, so best to settle in, buckle up and hang on for life-changing AND life-affirming transitions and transformations.  Best to find that place that allows you to sink in, breathing deeply and opening to all the possibilities held in the Universe just for you.  First, though, you must identify and let go of all the trappings of the material world that hold you back.

You must Release

Release…

Release.

Shed those outworn skins just as the serpent does… transform… becoming Lilith who gives up all she is told she is supposed to be to step fully and completely into her authentic power.

Be as Inanna who, at each of the seven gates, gives up something precious to her as she searches for deeper meaning and a more authentic existence.

Embody Isis who searches the universe for her beloved, re-uniting each part of Osiris until he is whole.  Find those lost parts of yourself, re-uniting them and integrating them  into the amazing and cohesive whole that is your own beloved authentic self.

Become Persephone who – rather than being raped and dragged down to the Underworld by Pluto in the old patriarchal myth – revisions her role to go willingly into the deep and dark to learn the inner mysteries of life… death… re-birth from her Grandmother, the Dark Goddess, Hecate.  She revisions her life to follow her own authentic path.

Are you sensing a theme here?  Authenticity.  It is the elixir of woman’s innate beauty and power.  It is the manna that sustains us when patriarchy would have us be other than our deepest soul knowing.

Go willingly into the depths and there you will find your own personal alchemy.  Go willingly into the arms of this Dark Mother and she will strip away the dross to reveal your shining gold.

I leave you with a writing that came a few years back during an especially difficult Scorpio New Moon.  I have come to love these words and the idea they paint.  May they bring magic as you open to the greatest mystery of all…You.

Dancing with the Dark Goddess,
Arlene Bailey ©2014

Not all are called to dance with the Dark Goddess.  Not all are called to walk the edge between the worlds.  For those who are, who dare to risk, magic awaits.  Not easy wave-your-pretty-wand magic, but magic that is deep and rough, pulling and tugging at your very existence, plunging you into the deep, dark murky waters of all feelings from all times, until finally demanding you be willing to stand in the fires of transformation, insisting you be willing to be the dark matter that is alchemically transmuted into gold.

Not everyone will understand or feel comfortable around you.  They are not meant to.  The Dance of the Dark Goddess is for those who are willing to die and die and die again, knowing that with each death a new dance is being born, a new being is being formed, for it is in darkness that creation begins.

Not all are called to dance with the Dark Goddess but for those who are, those who have been given eyes to see in the dark and wings to fly, those that understand alchemy is born of fire, a day will come when travelling between the worlds of dark and light will be a profoundly juicy journey of depth-diving into the shadowy recesses in order to purify, mature, and perfect that which is the deepest of all mysteries… the soul of a woman.

Blessed Scorpio New Moon Alchemy, Sisters.

 

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~All writing property of Arlene Bailey and The Sacred Wild, ©2018

~Art – Astarte* by Susan Seddon Boulet

*Astarte was a Semitic goddess and a counterpart of the Akkadian goddess, Ishtar, and the Sumerian goddess, Inanna.

 

 

Eyes to See, Wings to Fly: The Season of Scorpio

I never enter November or the Season of Scorpio without thinking of Owl.  I remember one Scorpio Season that was simultaneously profound and traumatic and would turn out to be the key to me understanding the necessity of surrendering to this yearly time of deep transformation.  It was a rainy evening and I was driving home.  Suddenly out of the corner of my eye, all I could see were wings and then the sound of something hitting the left front of my car.  I was actually at my exit so I took it but, instead of turning toward home, I turned around so I could go back to see what I’d hit.  I thought it was a hawk (not thinking that it was dark) and it wasn’t until I got home (yes, I put it in my trunk) that I realized it was an owl.  I was devastated.

Over the coming days and weeks, conversations with trusted friends and many hours of silence tuned into this beautiful creature and the why of our meeting, I began to understand more of why Owl had come to me.  I had been deep in the Lower World and deep in transformation and the mystery teachings for months.  While not really comfortable, this world… the Dark… was somehow – in a weird sort of way – becoming exactly that… comfortable… and while it was time for me to return to the world of my normal existence, I had no way to get there.  Though I’d learned much, I did not yet have the knowing of how to integrate the mystery teachings and bring them to the surface.

Enter Owl…

After sitting with this magnificent creature for days, I knew I had to make a decision around her body.  Yes, it was a she.  Again, after more conversations with those more knowledgeable than me and sitting with her and listening, I knew she wanted to be returned to the Mother but not before gifting me with her wings and talons.  I was hesitant at first… Ohhhh, so very hesitant so again I sat for days and listened, feeling into this idea.

Finally, I realized to refuse her gifts was to dishonor her.  She’d given her life to bring me wisdom and the opportunity to stretch my own wings with regard to how I connected to her.  With the help of one trained in sacred ceremony and indigenous ways, I accepted her offering.  Saying goodbye was the hardest part, really, but I finally placed her in the arms of the Great Mother to rest in the beautiful Appalachian Mountains of NC where she would once again fly.

It took me many months to know her name and the full reason for her coming to me… many months to understand the why of the events of that dark, rainy Scorpio night in November.  Finally it hit me!  Owl had come to give me the eyes to see in the dark and the wings to fly up to the light.  She was my way out of the Dark and back into the Light.  The name she told me?  Her name was Hope and she was a Great Horned Owl.

Then… A few weeks after my encounter with Hope, I was driving through the winding and hilly backroads of the Uwharrie National Forest near my home when I came upon something in the road.  It was very early in the morning and there – seemingly unharmed and directly in my path – was an owl.  Another owl!!!  This was a juvenile Barred Owl with no marks at all on it, though sadly its neck was broken and it’s eyes closed.  So I did what any ?sane? person like me would do… I put her in my trunk.

Sitting again with the magnificence of this beautiful creature she eventually told me she too was sent.  Her name?  Athena.

 

Four years ago, on November 6, 2014 I first met Hope.  A few weeks later, Athena.  There has never been a day since that these two have not traveled with me giving me Eyes to see and Wings to fly and Wisdom for the journey.  Whenever I am called to the Dark… the Underworld and place of deep Mystery and Transformation… Hope and Athena travel with me.

Hope and Athena.

Potential and Wisdom.

The Season of Scorpio.

Credits:

~Owl with Moon – Art by GaudiBuendia on deviantART

~All Photographs by Arlene Bailey ©2014

Boudicca Rising

Though most of my friends will not agree with the sharing of this image and most will not Like the post, I still feel called to share it for it speaks a powerful truth that most of us want to ignore and pretend is not happening.  For days I’ve been sick – literally – from the collective energy surrounding the current attack on women.  Sure, I could call it Supreme Court confirmation hearings, but in truth it is the ultimate assault on women and women’s rights.  We. Do. Not. Matter.  Not just in the grand scheme of this hearing, but – to these men – we do not matter at all.  We are merely an impediment meant to be stomped on, an irritant to shackle and control, if not completely eradicate.

AND…

Women ARE Rising.  I know this.  I see this.  Sadly, though, as long as these privileged white men have the power they have and the monetary support that holds them in place, our battle is far from over.  In fact, it has actually just become HUGE.  As women we HAVE come a long way in changing things, but if we think our fight is over or less, then we are not paying attention.  It’s about to get a whole lot worse.

AND…

As I’ve read in many places from other writers, Patriarchy has just awakened the Sleeping Dragon… Kali… Lilith… the Morrigan… Sekhmet… the Amazon.  By their callous disregard of women and women’s lives and safety, they have called forth Boudicca, the Iceni Queen who raged against the Romans who killed her husband and raped her daughters.  Just. Because. They. Could.  Sound familiar?

AND…

Now, each of us is reaching our tipping point.

For me, it was a few days ago and, as often happens with a tipping point, it began with an irritating, but insignificant (in the grand scheme of things), event.  My FB account was hacked so I needed to change my password.  I hate having to change my password because it can never be like any other and so there are millions of words and combinations floating around out there that I’m supposed to remember.  FTS!  I was irritated that some sleaze bag had hacked accounts and now I was inconvenienced by such an irritant.  What or, rather who, kept coming to mind was Boudicca.  I kept thinking what she’d do.  Not just about this stupid FB password stuff, but about all the insidiousness happening to women at the moment.  The only words that made any sense in my cluttered mind – the only ones clear – were Boudicca Rises.  So I thought about making that my password, but then words began to come and I knew that phrase was bigger than a mere password (though it did open something for me).

Like a raith raised from a haunted rest, Boudicca would not go away… her sword cutting through all the thoughts, all the feelings, all the bullshit until she had my attention, my tears, my rage, my full bodied attention.  Every hair on my arms, my hair… raised like antennas sensing, feeling.  Words pulsing through my brain like an emotional hurricane until I knew what was coming.  Knew what was birthing.  She.  SHE.  Boudicca.  The raging Queen of the Iceni was rising through me and she would have her say… have her wrath expressed… on the page… on the canvas.

But first the tears had to flow and words had to flow outward into the void…

I write with a broken heart, though I do not know why.  I have good things in my life, good people.  Some of both really good.  Then why do I feel this rage building and my heart cracking wide open?  Why do I feel lower than the lowest worm?  Why do I not matter?  Why am I scorned and spit at and revolting to so many?

 It is because I, a woman, exist.  Not that I exist here or there, but that I simply exist. 

Why did I choose to come to this time, this fucking time, as a woman.  Have I not been ridiculed enough in previous life times?  Have I not been murdered and tortured, burned and buried alive before?  Why risk that again? 

 There is a primal scream in me this time.  A primal rising that says NO MORE! 

 All I hear in my soul is BOUDICCA RISES

And so SHE comes.  Sword in hand with a death scream that rents the very fabric of the cosmos.  Patriarchy came for my daughters once… had its way with them and then tossed them aside… killed my beloved and took my crown.  Well, not this time.  Not as long as my hands hold a sword and my voice speaks.  Not as long as women continue to wake up – really pay attention – and use their voices.

Make no mistake, we are at war – not just for the soul of women, but for the soul of Lady Liberty and America and, in many ways, for every woman on this planet including Mother Earth herself.  We are at war and it is going to take commitment from every woman, every girl, every man who stands with us.

Each individual who will commit to the idea of NOT ON MY WATCH…

Each woman who will stand and shout…

I AM WOMAN.

I WILL BE SEEN.

I WILL BE HEARD.

I have had my tipping point.

Where… what… is your’s Sister?

 

 

Boudicca Rises by Arlene Bailey, © 2018

Art by Bruce MacKinnon, Editorial Cartoonist

When the Old Antlered One Calls

About 5-6 years ago, the name Elen began coming to me in my dreams.  I had no idea who Elen was nor that there were legends of antlered women and female deer that ran through my lineage.  I knew nothing of this entity nor her mythology but I was very intrigued and felt I’d found a part of me.  I was aware of the Artist, Jude Lally, and had long admired her work with the  needle felted dolls she created, knew also she worked in the realm of women and mythology and Celtic and pre-Celtic lineage, so I contacted her. I told her of my dreams and asked if she knew much about an ancient deer goddess – specifically Elen of the Ways.

chescapotterladyoftheways

Chesca Potter, Artist

After many talks with Jude, I learned about the Old Antlered One/The Ancient Deer Goddess/Elen of the Ways.  After more talks and research I asked if I could commission a doll.  I really felt I needed a tangible representation of this entity who was very insistent about connecting with me and becoming part of my life.  Jude was aware and together we created my vision of who had been coming to me.  That vision was pretty limited as I only knew she had antlers, carried a drum  and wore a purple cloak.  Oh and she had silver hair with a few red streaks left – just like my red hair that was becoming silver.

Elen Altar

My Altar to Elen and the Old Antlered One

I have walked with this ancient one and her more modern naming in close harmony for these past years continually learning and expanding my knowing of exactly who she she was and who she is today.  Most importantly, perhaps, is the why of why she came to me and why she is coming to so many women in this particular time.  To know I am a daughter of the ancient antlered one… a sister of the female deer of ancient memory… is one of the most profound discovery of my now 65 years.

SuziEdwardsGooseSuzi Edwards Goose, Artist

Sooo…  I’d thought I’d share a few resources for my sisters interested in the mythology of female deer and women.

The work of Jude Lally

FB – Sisterhood of the Antlers

https://www.facebook.com/groups/1634210959937363/?ref=br_rs

Website – https://www.pathoftheancestralmothers.com/

Other FB groups

Elen of the Ways
https://www.facebook.com/groups/ElenoftheWays/

Finding Elen – The Quest for Elen of the Ways
https://www.facebook.com/groups/1499206050378902/

Books and Articles

Following the Reindeer Goddess, Linda Schierse Leonard (older version called Creation’s Heartbeat)

Finding Elen, The Quest for Elen of the Ways – Caroline Wise

Elen of the Ways, Elen Sentier

Following the Deer Trods, Elen Sentier

Two articles by Judith Shaw,

Elen of the Ways by Judith Shaw

The Reindeer Goddess by Judith Shaw

Cehr-SuziEdwards-GooseSuzi Edwards Goose, Artist

a99257b2a96f811162af00631f0407e9Jude Lally, Artist

If you feel the call, I welcome you to the circle of antlered sisters.  As you feel her call… feel the creativity stirring within… the Old Antlered One awaits.

Final 9-13-wmAutumn Deer Goddess by Arlene Bailey, Artist

Blessed Be!

Per Google Image Search, Feature photo at top from Omnia’s video, I Don’t Speak Human.

Storm Crone Musings

 

I’ve been thinking a lot about Florence… about Mother Nature and her power.  Many, including me, have said she is angry and this hurricane is her expression of that anger.  Then I began to think of how a mother is with her children.  She would never intentionally want to hurt them and violent weather hurts not only humans, but animals and indeed all of nature in the path of storms.  All are her children… So why?

I look out my window at the wind and rain… all the leaves and branches on the ground… no sight of birds – not even the hummers at the feeder.  I wonder if Mother Nature… Pachamama… Mama Gaia… is angry or is she simply reminding us that she is here, that she was here before humans and animals and will be after we are all long gone.  Are storms simply a reminder of her wildness, her power?  Are they a means of clearing away that which is no longer needed?

Our current cultural mindset – a product of patriarchy – centers around the idea that human life is the pinnacle of all life and anything that adversely affects human life is bad.  It would have us believe that Mother Nature is violent, destructive, unpredictable, a bringer of senseless death and something to be managed, controlled and even altered if that suits human pursuits.  When humans bring violence and destruction and death to Nature, it is considered necessary – a right even – so that humans can have food, access resources from the body of the Mother, control and alter her so she is not in the way of human expansion or… from the most patriarchal of patriarchal ideas… our manifest destiny.  However, when Nature brings violence and death to humans, it is considered an atrocity, evil even.  Wow… What an egocentric, human-centric, anthropomorphic view!

We are now living in a world where fewer and fewer people (especially children) consciously engage with Nature on a daily basis.  Fewer and fewer go outside, much less venture into forests, onto lakes, into the mountains, etc. to connect with the peace and beauty of our Mother… to listen to her wisdom, receive her healing, embrace her love or hear her cries of pain as her heart breaks wide open over what was, what is and what will be if things do not change.  Fewer and fewer humans engage in sacred relationship with all that supports us.

What if storms are Mother Nature’s only way of getting our attention to say I have a right to exist too?

What if storms are her way of saying… Remember me?  I provided food and shelter and a spiritual connection for you in the infancy of this planet and human kind… the time when you honored me and saw your life mirrored in my life and my cycles mirrored in yours… the time when you saw me as divine as you saw the women of your kind… Remember?

What if storms are her way of shouting about the abuse forced upon her day after day after day, until she screams enough is enough?

What if she is reminding us of her innate wildness and power as if to say woman remember yours?

[Sigh]

If only there were clear cut answers to these questions.  In some ways, I believe there are hints of knowings, but it takes a mind willing to step away from everything we’ve been taught about the value of a human life vs. the value of any/all life out in Nature.  It takes a cultural mindset of living in balance with all that is and that would take a radical cultural reset.  Truly, if only…

For now, these are simply the musings of a woman walking her path searching for grace and understanding… wondering, as she always looks for the deeper meaning in things… wondering, as her heart too breaks wide open at the disconnect that exists between mother and child.

For now, I bow to Mother Nature, Mama Gaia, Pachamama, Papatūānuku, Máttaráhkká – in all her forms and namings – and her wildness, her power, her beauty, her spirit that imbues ours and the bond that does and can still exist.

As a woman deeply connected to women’s ancient ways and knowings, these musings turn me to the energetic workings women have done for ages.

As a Crone deeply connected to the land and the Mother… to Goddess…  I turn to visioning,  bow to her ancient ways, her ancient land and offer her my blessing.

And So It Is.

~Arlene Bailey, © 2018

 

Artist Unknown (Google Image Search revealed no definitive artist)

 

Black Moon Lilith

Final-wm

I walked barefoot on the earth
My feet touching the body of my mother
My body, her body.

I bathed under silvery moonlight
In waters glimmering from her shine
My body touching her body.

Once a month when the moon released
I too released
Giving my life blood back to the Mother
Nourishing her as she nourished me
Mother and daughter in synchronous alignment
My body, her body.

Then the sky god came
And his people told me I was evil
That my body was shameful and I should cover it
That to bathe naked under the moonlight was satan’s work
And I should cover my body.

That my lifeblood released with the dark moon
Was the most evil of all
And during this time I was unclean
And I should be hidden away
And my body covered.

No longer was I allowed to connect to my Mother
No longer was I allowed to stand in my nakedness
Or to revel in the shimmering moonlight
Or release my moon blood back upon the earth.

They told me I was evil.
They told me I was shameful.
They told me I was dirty.

Then they tossed me out of the garden
My body, her body.

Well no more!
The veil has fallen from my face
No longer will I cover my my hair, my body
I am ALL the things they told me NOT to be
ALL the things they told me I COULD not be.

I am Black Moon Lilith
And
I stand in MY Sovereignty.
Screaming forth…
I. Will. Not. Submit.

AND…

You will not get my anger
You will not label my juicy parts evil
Nor will you culturally codify them as shadow
Something to be feared
Something to be hidden.

I am ALL the things you told me NOT to be
All the things you told me I COULD not be
All the things that make me woman.

AND…

I will dance under the light of the full moon
Illuminating the ALL of woman
I will revel in my divinity, my dark, moist woman-ness
I will shine like the stars from whence I came
I will walk naked on the wet, moist earth
For my body is her body.

Standing in my sovereignty
I re-claim all.

My body.
Her body.

The Light
AND
The Dark.

No longer will I live in the Shadows
For now I dance in the Full Moon light.

I am Dark Moon Lilith.

Let the Revolution begin.

~Art and Words by Arlene Bailey, ©2018

The Gift Of A Year

There’s nothing so profound as having a concrete, this world, experience with one of culture’s axioms.  You know, those sayings that others offer in times of stress or difficult situations?  The ones we often label as unwelcome and trite?

This past year I’ve had an experience with these two…

~ Life is unpredictable and we truly have no idea how things will look in the future.

And

~ Every day is a gift.

One year ago today, I was sitting in the hospital with Larry as his heart continued to fail.  I honestly thought my husband was going to die.  One year later, though his heart will never again function at full capacity, Larry is doing great.  Over this past year I’ve seen remarkable strides in his activity and I’ve seen days of frightening weakness.  Still there have been those magical moments when he worked in the garden for brief periods and took short walks with me and the kitties in the woods.

Interesting how a few words look so different on the other side of an experience.  Life is indeed unpredictable and we truly have no idea how things will look in the future AND every day has become a beautiful gift.

To the two ideas above, I now add my own…

The Mystery shows up in our lives in the most unexpected and yet, magical ways, offering us portals of transformation that often come cloaked in darkness and uncertainty.  As with all things, we have the choice to step through this space or walk away.  If we dare to step through – looking beyond our fear and misgivings, our pain, our sorrow – we allow life to move in ways we never could have imagined.  Ways that cloak us in transcendent beauty, ultimately opening us to all possibilities.  If we let go of our resistance, these portals can allow us to fall into grace*.

Amazing how darkness and uncertainty can seed and even birth transcendence and beauty.  I am deeply comforted by the idea that within darkness lies the alchemy of all possibilities.

Today I celebrate this gift of a year with open eyes, leaning into the deep knowing that indeed every day is a container of magic and memory that will never come again.

Today I honor Larry… his journey… my journey… our journey.

Today I celebrate the gift of grace that is this day.

 

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*Grace is defined as simple elegance or refinement of movement – a way of moving that is smooth and seemingly effortless, not stiff or awkward.

~Artist/Photographer Unknown