Taking stock.

Spring is officially here: the magnolias are starting to bloom, dogwood, too, and forsythia. I can’t ever see forsythia, its cheerful riot of yellow, without thinking of my mother, and lately, of the sun. What a beautiful splash of color. I’m itching to get into the garden, even though I’m not touching our plot in the back this year for fear of straining my back. The front garden though; it’s small, it’s easier to maintain, various unintended plants need to be weeded out as they are choking my cinquefoil.

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We held seidhr the other night. I love seidhr. I set up the space, and I ward, and I receive such a clear signal in that space, you think I’d be arsed to do it more often, outside of seidhr. I’ve dithered back and forth since delving a bit back into witchcraft about casting circles, because I love the idea of them, and because I think experimenting with new ways is a great way to keep yourself limber, but they still never really *click* with me. But whatever it is that I do for seidhr really, *really* clicks. My “antenna” gets much clearer, which is nice, and generally this is my time to sit with Pops and talk about things. Sometimes it’s just chatter, sometimes it’s Serious Business, usually it’s a mix of the two. This last time? Bragi poked in and we talked about writing as a spiritual calling. He chided me a bit, for my goals, and for the making my writing have to fit around all the other goals for the year, rather than working in the *other* goals around the writing.

One of the goals has been participation in the Pagan Blog Project. I’m undecided right now, if I’m setting it down entirely or just for the time being, until I get the WiP back on track. We’ll see. For now, the WiP, and then my class, and then my editing project are taking top priority, in that order. After the day job, alas.

Clarity came. It was good. The gods, They are good. I wish we didn’t have to sometimes hear what we already know in order for it to become valid, but there it is.