13 Sunday Feb 2011
Tags
Devotion, Faery, Feyhearted path, gratitude, Living Life, Magic, Suggestions
In honour of the modern Festival of Love, I offer here a bonus post in a series of suggestions for re-enchanting your life, one pixie kiss at a time. The introduction is here, and you can watch the path unfold here.
Isn’t it lovely to have a day devoted to love? A day set aside specifically for connecting to loved ones, for being romantic?
Tomorrow is Valentine’s day.
Don’t forget, you too are worthy of love.
14 Friday Jan 2011
Tags
Devotion, Faery, Feyhearted path, Heart, Intent, Living Life, Magic, Suggestions
This is the seventh post in a series of suggestions for re-enchanting your life, one pixie kiss at a time. The introduction is here, and you can watch the path unfold here.
As children we already knew what it meant to be enchanted, to find wonder in every moment, to see the world around us as alive. Because of this we could wish upon a star each night, and have our wishes come true.
Something you may choose, to bring some of the enchantment back into daily life, is to consciously reintroduce some of the acts which encouraged a playful, wonder-filled outlook. Think back over your childhood, what rituals did you have that might fit into your life now?
Perhaps you wished on the first star each evening, or left a mouthful of every drink for the faeries. Perhaps you had a rhyme for luck, or a lucky charm you carried with you.
These are not actions of superstition, but rituals you can enact on a daily basis, consciously, with the intention of bringing magic into your life. Choose the rituals which you feel focus on the wonderful in the world, and re-adopt them as daily spells for enchantment.
Let every moment have the potential to be enchanted, and use those tools of wonder that already live deep in your bones…
I’ll be posting Pixie Kisses each week, if you’d like to subscribe to these suggestions for re-enchanting your life and to receive the occasional extra sparkle in your inbox which won’t be posted here, email me at: craftyhalo@gmail.com with ‘Pixie Kisses’ in the subject line
12 Wednesday Jan 2011
Posted in All Posts, Creative Process
Tags
challenge, choice, Commitment, Completion, creativity, Determination, Devotion, Heart, Honesty, Imperfection, Intent, Journey, life, Living Life, process, reasons, Strangeness of Life
Its a strange feeling, being between lives.
I’ve a good sense of who I am and what I want… its just making that choice, stepping, with both feet at once (a leap, really) into the future I’ve turned towards. It looks like I’ve chosen, but I’m not quite committed, not yet.
I’ve burned the bridge back, amicably but definitely.
I’ve been given, handed on a silver platter, an opportunity to make the transition easily, and it still feels so hard because I’m scared.
What if? What if?
I’m deep-down-in-my-very-core terrified. And I know its this way or nothing. It feels so right. I’m scared and certain, at the same time. Fear and desire, those dancing twins.
From the tension, as Thorn has taught me, can be born a new thing, a third thing, a proud thing. I can make a choice, and raise the new-born peacock high.
What am I choosing? What have I turned my caravan* towards?
I’ve chosen to move back to the green hills of Wales (though I’ve kept my job in England as a safety net), I’ve chosen to start writing more seriously, both academically and magically (see the Feyhearted blog for a weekly project which has been weekly for 6 weeks, and is scheduled to be weekly for another 2 weeks already. I’m not only continuing a project, I am actually ahead of deadline! Go me!). I’ve chosen to do what will make me happy, rather than follow the trail of shoulds that have been threatening for a year.
I successfully buried an important thing there. Something I don’t really belive but, look! See all the times I do it! I appear to be becoming a…
Writer.
Artist I get. Witch I get. Academic, student, dreamer… all things I’ve long accepted. I still ignore the label ‘writer’. Its important to me. I write all the time. More than I make art. And I have trouble with it. Despite having written a book. Having written many short stories. Having kept a sporadic blog (or 5) for years. Having written essays and dissertations… and having enjoyed the process.
So yes, I’ve chosen to be a writer. Among other things. Since, if you don’t do/know/love other things, what do you write about?!
There are other ways, other commitments I am in the process of making, like actually releasing my old home and becoming present in my new home. This one feels key though… I find, strangely, that I love to write, I long to.
A writer.
Right.
*Caravan. Yep. Havi is a pirate queen, Eileen has a sailboat. I like stability, I like having a home, I like freedom and colour. I have a gypsy caravan. I might talk more about this later. I might not. We’ll see.
17 Tuesday Aug 2010
Posted in Faery
Tags
book, creativity, Devotion, Faery, Fey, gratitude, Joy, Love, The Faery Heart, Update
The last 24 hours have been amazing.
I thank every one of you that has commented, looked and asked me for a copy of my book.
Especially those of you who want to own a copy.
I am, as I say, overwhelmed.
I am overflowing with gratitude. Gratitude for my friends, for the people around me who have and continue to support me, for the people who give me funny looks when I talk about Faeries and love me anyway (or even because of it). Gratitude for the excitement other people are sharing with me over this.
It is a wonderful thing to build bridges of joy, and I can see them growing up with every digital connection we make.
The worlds we build online are as real as those that we walk in, sleep in, love in. The worlds we can touch and feel and hear and see and smell, extend through our bodies, through the wires of the interconnecting-web, through our hearts and our words.
We build worlds of love and joy, we weave the worlds of Fey closer with every choice made in love and in alignment with our hearts.
I have seven people who have ordered one of the 13.
6 remain to find homes.
Email me if you would like to be part of this adventure as it takes to the skies!
Haloquin at googlemail dot com
And thank you. Thank you all very very much.
Watch here for further posts keeping you updated and sharing the joy!
14 Saturday Aug 2010
Posted in Faery
Today I finally put the finishing touches to the book inspired by the work done on this blog.
I realised as I was writing it that I haven’t seen anything quite like this anywhere before, so I feel rather proud of myself.
It is illustrated, and I have a beautiful cover painting currently waiting to caress the cover of my brain-child!
So now remains the final stages of working out how I am to set this free into the world. I would very much like to make a limited run of really nice books for people to buy that can, in themselves, be special. And then to branch out into paperbacks and ebooks for it to be available to a wider audience. I am always impatient with these things, so close to finishing it is tempting to simply stick it up and have it out there, but it is important to me for this to not just be lost amoung the many thousands of pages of information.
Part of the reason I’ve written this is to share with others the way I’ve walked along this FeyHearted path, and part of the reason is as a devotional act for the Fey, the Faery Queen, and Himself, and so it feels important to do this right, in a way that does them honour.
Besides, I’ve put a lot of time and energy into this, so I’d like a nice copy too!
It is interesting to think over our culture’s fascination with Fairies, especially the fascination of young girls! Historically, I’ve been reading, this has been true as well, Fey beings were important to the female members of humanity more than to the men… the stories do tell of faery women enchanting the menfolk though, so they weren’t entirely immune to their charms! Despite this, there is less written on finding the Fey parts of ourselves, and this is what my book speaks to. Weaving between an exploration of what being Fey means and suggestions for coming closer to knowing your own Fey Heartand the Fey themselves, I hope this book has something for everyone.
I suppose the identification of women with Fey beings, (and often gender-queer or magical individuals for that matter, think over the number of times queer and Sighted individuals are called Fey) is to do with the understanding of power. For those that have little power in the over-culture’s world, it makes sense to find power in another world. For those that risk their lives in the process of giving birth, or know that they will one day, those beings that are on the edges of life hold a great deal of power to help and to harm. And then again, the identification of themselves as Fey affords individuals with a measure of power in their own lives.
And then, of course, we come back to the fact that the Fey are, simply, enchanting.
I am excited to help bring a little more of that enchantment back into the world… and I will keep you all posted on how the book is coming along!
14 Wednesday Jul 2010
Posted in Art Craft and Beauty, Creative Process
Tags
choice, Creation, Determination, Devotion, Dreams, Giving up, Healing, Imperfection, learning, Living Life, Starting Over, Strangeness of Life
When people walk into my room, they often comment on all my art on the wall. They don’t know how I believed I’d never make art like this.
I wear my world on my sleeve, so to speak. I remember hiding in the library at school, half the time I’d be reading stories or books about psychology or religion, the other half of the time I’d be drawing.
I almost failed GCSE art. I dropped out of Art A-level after a month.
I knew I loved making art, and yet I could barely pass the class.
For years I doubted my ability, lacking formal training, how could I really make art? How could I be an artist?!
And still I kept at it. In fits and starts, not so much an undeniable impulse but more like a slowly building pressure, only relieved by the soothing sound of colours stroking the page.
There is, simply, nothing like it.
Once I start, I never want the process to end at the same time as impatiently longing to see the finished picture.
I couldn’t jump through the hoops of formal training because, frankly, I just wanted to make art.
I dropped out of art class after a month.
I wanted the skills, but the formality was destroying me.
When I went to university to study Philosophy I secretly thought I’d left art, sadly, irrevocably, behind me. I could still draw, doodle, play, but I could never really be an artist.
But then I found myself painting, drawing, more and more… I painted my thoughts out for an essay, then wrote the essay based on the painting. Friends loved the art I made, asked me to make piece for them, which sit proudly on their walls.
Somehow, I’d dropped out, and tuned in.
Somehow, as an art-class drop-out, I found I could still be an artist.
I am grateful that I only gave up on my dream for a moment, and, in returning to myself, I find myself here… making art.
It makes me wonder what dreams the people around me have given up on, even if they haven’t realised it. It reminds me why the old cliché exists: it is never too late to do what you love, to be who you are, regardless of what the world might think.
29 Tuesday Jun 2010
Posted in Magic
Tags
Devotion, Identity, Imperfection, Priorities, process, Reality, Witch
I wonder what it takes to be a Witch, what it means.
I feel like it is a title that should be earned, and I feel that you earn it by working on yourself, constantly working to be the best you can be as a human being; as part fey, part animal, part divine.
I feel that it represents an inner power, earned through clearing yourself and connecting to the realms beyond the physical, beyond the so called ‘mundane’. To be a little Fey, deep down.
I feel that it involves a balancing act between the light and the dark, in yourself and in the world.
I feel that it involves a deep sense of Pride which, in its true form, includes humility. Pride is knowing your place in the world, knowing your value and valuing all other beings in the world, knowing everything has a place and a function and is sacred, including yourself.
I feel that it involves acting in alignment with your values, your beliefs, walking your talk and speaking your mind.
I feel that it involves constant attunement to the flow of nature, the flow of magic, coming back to yourself when you notice you are distracted, reconnecting at every moment possible.
I feel that it involves magic, striving to know your True Desire, True Will, who you are fundamentally, and changing consciousness in accordance with this.
I feel that it means someone fiercely joyful, deeply compassionate, righteous in their anger when necessary, powerful in themselves, truly honest and eternally loving.
I feel that it involves doing your best, not Perfection, but a process of improvement.
I feel that to be a Witch is to do all these things, and with a particular flavour, of deep forest greens and cool nights, of full moons through starlit skies, of Northern landscapes before the snow. The emerald lands of home.
I strive, every day, every moment, to do these things, to live connected, aware, to reconnect when I find myself scattered and distracted, to know myself and act in accordance with my Self, to be passionate and compassionate and full of joy. Mine is not a path of yellows and oranges, of sand or smoke or baking sun, but of cool deep forests and winter’s rain, of the hearth fire that holds the damp at bay, and the sun which warms but rarely burns. I am not perfect, but I am in process, and so I use the title ‘Witch’.
24 Monday May 2010
Tags
Changing Patterns, choice, Determination, Devotion, familiarity, Fears, learning, Otherworlds, Pandora's Box
I have, in my life, two rather different groups of gods. The Feri gods, and the Others.
I am still in the process of accepting these Others, although my actions tell me that I have, really. The altars, the offerings, the studying of their lore… all actions which say; yes, yes I see you. Yes, you are entering my life, and I am not fighting.
I’m not fighting anymore, but I’m still wary, still scared.
I’ve spent the past few years slowly opening up to the fact that one of Them is present… as gentle as She has been with me.
This year I learnt who the other face, the hidden one, was.
And in opening to this hidden piece, opening rather than hiding as I’ve always done (every night she came I cried out ‘go!’ And she would leave), in opening, I let the others in.
Some are still on the fringes, waiting for the right time. I know now that I cannot simply avoid them, they will arrive when they choose to. For now I am given work to do, to become strong, to learn things that can serve later, though I’m not sure how.
And all this raises questions.
Why did I avoid them? Was I scared of the power I can feel they hold? Was I scared of the reality, the reality in magic that I believe but often doubt? It feels that way. They are real, powerful, capable of turning my life upside down. And yet, they are being oh so gentle with me. This does not match the stories I’ve heard of them from others.
And so now, I doubt. I doubt that they are who I think they are… and then I remember the external confirmations (coincidence some part of me states firmly, I shake it away). I doubt that they are really interested in me, and wonder if I’m just hoping that I’m useful. And I doubt that any of this will be useful, to anyone.
And here is where the hard lessons come in; trust, surrender, risk.
I heard once that it is better to fight with a sword in both hands and your heart open, than to hide behind a shield.
What else am I doubting? What other powers am I scared of? What is it that will come of this?
So I’m learning to trust, working out a way of building up a relationship with these beings that are entering my life, learning about the things they’ve pointed me towards… and generally finding that everything is enhanced as a result.
And I’m trying not to invite catastrophe by doubting them because my life is still up the right way!
18 Tuesday May 2010
Posted in Magic
Tags
Devotion, Faery, Faery Queen, Journey, Living Life, Ritual, Scotland, Storytelling, Strangeness of Life
Go! Go!
The May Queen has passed!
We watched her, saw her, ascend, descend over the steps before us.
We watched, saw, the fire-lighters start the nied fire.
We watched, we saw, the path cut through the crowd, past us, past us, the procession moved past us.
We ran!
Run! Run!
Do not lose her! Never lose her!
We ran, ran, over the grassy hill, down a tunnel of bodies bemused by the sudden space where magic had passed us.
And found ourself stopped. In the cold. Behind the wall of blue-faced men who told us no.
Stopped. Lost. Cold.
No. We smiled. No. We can say no too.
We said no, said yes.
Our band of fey-folk flew apart, found our places. Mine and hers, my beltane-friend, our place was running!
We followed the Queen, she led our hunt!
We flew, cross the hill, round and about, past people bemused, over rocks and dips that lifted us gently over their treachorous forms (one fey-folk twisted her ankle, others sat with the stillness of the rocks holding their bones, we, somehow, flew unscathed, the earth herself letting us pass).
We flew! Flew! From space to space, always, just and perfectly, keeping pace.
For long stretches we flew beside her, so close as to almost touch her, but always striving to respect the boundary which kept her safe. (So grateful, I am, to the blue-faced folk that kept us all at bay. So grateful, while I longed to touch her. So grateful for that line, uncrossable, sacrosanct.)
Sometimes the crowd became too tight, too close, too confused, and we flew away, to the edges, still running.
Time and again we let the stillness touch us. I pointed the direction, she led the way. Together we flew, together, mapping out a perfect path.
At every space the procession stopped we found a niche, once the fire-space came upon us unexpectedly and we watched, entranced, by the spinning flames and the red-people charging, the white-people keeping the line, the line that must be crossed. The pain of division.
We saw Him die and rise again, his dance frenzied in the strobe-light of camera-flashes.
Their kiss, love shining from them like a star.
The red and white, chaos and order, together, united, in love.
Each element, a gift in themselves.
The whole path winding round and round, the serpent of great Beltane found.
We watched, we flew, we laughed.
We were touched by madness, running in the wake of her winter-hunt, running like the joyous hounds of hell as the sun-fire rose and burned away the last of the winter’s dark.
We ran, flew, followed… and we rejoiced.
The fire festival, a ritual carving its own space through a crowd, deliberately confused.
This was no mere spectacle, but a marvelous sacrifice of life to life for life in life.
Life rises like the sun.
The May Queen blessed us all.
The fires of our hearts ignite as the sun kisses our skin, and they will never die.
17 Monday May 2010
Posted in Herbology
Tags
Beginning, Determination, Devotion, Faery Queen, Garden, growing things, Healing, Idunna, learning, Plants, process, Roses
The image of the witch stirring her bubbling cauldron resonates through the ages.
When I first began on the pagan path I gathered bundles of herbs and hung them round my room to dry. I collected jars which filled with deliciously scented green leaves and brightly coloured petals. I occasionally took these jars out, inhaled the contents and then placed them back in their basket.
Once or twice I made up a flying incense, which, strangely, I never thought to burn but instead would breathe in the scent of woodland before meditative journeys. It worked. I wish I could remember the recipe, but I believe the main ingrediants were pine-needles and optimism.
I relocated to Wales, five years ago now, and last summer I threw out the jars of old, dusty herbs that had resided in my Mother’s attic for the time I had been away thus far.
And then, this spring, I began to feel the urge, again, to understand plants. Having passed the initiatory challenge of keeping a houseplant alive for a year this Imbolc, two miniature rose plants no less, I began to feel hopeful that perhaps my history of killing spider plants would no longer count against me. I bought live herbs from the supermarket, the basil thrived for a while, but eventually joined the other two in brown, shrivelled death.*
And still I have the nagging feeling that I really should be learning about plants, learning from plants, learning to use plants. And graduating from ready-mixed dried herbs and black pepper in the kitchen would not be unwelcome either!
Perhaps something to do with the Fey-Queen’s prescence in my life, or perhaps because Idunna finally revealed herself to be one member of my childhood ‘invented’ pantheon (You only had to ask, she reminds me gently, I’d have told you sooner if you’d asked.) Perhaps its the green of Wales finally sinking into my bones, or the garden planted in my heart by elemental guardians. Whichever perhaps, I’ve begun to explore.
The Herbology category will track my posts as I collect information, both book-based and experiential, slowly about the plants I encounter. As a devotional act I am exploring this world of green green things. In gratitude for the information I’ve found online – and to keep myself both active and accountable – I intend to post my findings here.
Enjoy.
*I also have packets of seeds waiting for when I settle somewhere a little more permanent than 3 months… I will grow a garden one day soon.
