Alone With The Gods

In the mornings I walk in the woods when it’s quiet and still and the sound of birds and other creatures stirring offers a rhythm and texture to my slow, contemplative pace.

With my dog at my side, I take time to notice the leaves, the reflection of the sun as it catches remnants of spider webs draped across bushes and trees. I feel the coolness of morning and smell the freshness of the air.

Is anything more sacred than this?

This is my church. Here, I commune with Goddess and God and the spirits that live in the woods. This is sacred to me. This is where the gods live.

My strolls through the woods are quiet and phone free. There is no wi-fi and no computer. Only my thoughts and prayers and offerings.

This is were true poetry is born. This is where gnosis is born. This is my church. And when I listen, I hear. When I look, I see.

I am reminded of this from Song of Myself by Walt Whitman:

Stop this day and night with me and you shall possess the origin of all poems,
You shall possess the good of the earth and sun, (there are millions of suns left,)
You shall no longer take things at second or third hand, nor look
through the eyes of the dead, nor feed on the spectres in books,
You shall not look through my eyes either, nor take things from me,
You shall listen to all sides and filter them from your self.

I have heard what the talkers were talking, the talk of the begin-
ning and the end,
But I do not talk of the beginning or the end.

There was never any more inception than there is now,
Nor any more youth or age than there is now,
And will never be any more perfection than there is now,
Nor any more heaven or hell than there is now.

Urge and urge and urge,
Always the procreant urge of the world.

Here’s what I’ve learned: spiritual practice is, simply put, a quality over quantity proposition. Great, elaborate rituals aren’t needed, nor are $200 dollar robes, walls full of candles or a thick cloud of incense.

What is really needed is attention to detail, devotion, and intent. 5 focused, well-intended minutes sitting quietly with a single candle as part of a ritual act of devotion trumps all the bells and whistles and pomp that goes with a lot of what passes as Witchcraft or Magickal Ritual.

I’ve had the most profound things happen to me when I was most deeply committed to doing the work (And it’s not always easy). And most often this was nothing more than some form of sitting practice or meditation wrapped in a few small, simple ritual gestures.

Whatever it is we seek is found this way, whether it’s gnosis, knowledge and conversation with your Holy Guardian Angel, enlightenment, transcendence or whatever else may drive you down you path.

Because it is in these simple, honest, raw and pure moments that a limitlessness opens up to us and gives us a glimpse of what is possible.

In Scott Cunningham’s book on Wicca, he lists “Thirteen Goals of a Witch.” Take them out of context of the book and they apply wonderfully to any inward journey of the self.

For sake of discussion, here they are:

1. Know yourself
2. Know your Craft (Wicca)
3. Learn
4. Apply knowledge with wisdom
5. Achieve balance
6. Keep your words in good order
7. Keep your thoughts in good order
8. Celebrate life
9. Attune to the cycles of the earth
10. Breathe and eat correctly
11. Exercise the body
12. Meditate
13. Honor the Goddess and God

Any and all of these could apply to a Gnostic, a Hindu, a Buddhist for the most part, a Christian could even find a needed spiritual compass in these 13 goals of a witch.

Can someone tell me again why witches are so vilified? Is there anything in here that we all shouldn’t aspire to as humans?

I’m not Wiccan, but the words here speak to me; they make sense.

As a side note: Cunningham has grown on me as a writer. I find his books readable, likable and very valuable as resources.

I don’t care how passionate you are or how committed you are to your craft, doing the work is hard. At least for me it is and I struggle sometimes to fully engage in my daily practice.

Even though I love the inner journey, the feeling that comes when we reach other states of consciousness, the feeling of energy pulsing and moving through my body, I still will rationalize a million reasons why I’m either too tired from a long day at work, too into whatever movie is on TV or too distracted by the invitations of friends.

Does that make me a bad Witch? Not a chance. And here lies to deepest secret of the Craft. (Are you ready?) I’m not the one doing the revealing, others have written these very words too: All Witches struggle to do the work.

After all, we are human. More human than most. That’s the blessing and the curse of deepening your connectedness with your inner being. As we sit quietly, aligning out triple soul, communing the our Gods, we learn to encounter ourselves in very primal ways.

Jung wrote wrote once that: “People will do anything, no matter how absurd, in order to avoid facing their own soul.”

But we face our soul. We interact with it and work on those edges where others won’t go as they passionately work to live outside themselves, never having to face who they are. It is easier this way, right?

Sure, but that would be a betrayal of our path and our responsibilities to ourselves. Our goal, as Victor Anderson so beautifully put it, is to become more ourselves. “To become more human.”

When looked at this way, doing the work shouldn’t be hard at all. But still, it is.

Post script: It has come to my attention that the time spent sitting here writing for this may also be seen as a form of distraction. Perhaps.