High Priestess in ceremonial garb against waterfallWhy should a Priestess care about politics?

I mean, shouldn’t I be dancing in the fields with the fairies, preferably naked by the light of the full moon?

Hell yes.

 

But there are 29 other days when I’m primarily concerned with how my spiritual escapades inform my practical reality.

With the Priestess in my back pocket. And alongside me. And surging way ahead beckoning me to catch up.

Coming to think of if, she doesn’t think much of back pockets at all.

 

But back to the matter at hand:

Brexit – the British exit from the European union.

What exactly does a burgeoning Priestess have to say about that?

Plenty.

 

Mostly I am reminding myself that

No matter how hard we fight it, everything only ever reduces back to our personal reponse.

 

I certainly felt the emotions of the escalating media frenzy in full technicolour.

The morning after the referendum, I needed to disengage by taking a media break.

I wanted to sit with myself and find my own truth without getting bombarded and buried by everyone else’s.

 

So how do you respond to an outcome you fundamentally disagree with?

That is, of course, personal. It seems that people voting for either side were shocked by the outcome (note the irony). As I ordered my morning coffee, a gentleman derided the tabloids in the newspaper rack, and proceeded to throw them away. Cathartic though that may be, that’s not a helpful response.

 

So I begin by reminding myself that the outcome of any vote is a democratic decision, no matter how flawed one might judge it to be.

 

Next, I am asking  how I can make a difference in a way that feels authentic to me.

 

In the lead up to the Brexit vote, I did a lot of praying.

I remembered that to experience anything outside of myself, I need to experience it inside of myself first.

 

women's hands touching knitted prayers shawlsI prayed for love, peace and compassion within myself, and I imagined my country of residence enveloped in a blanket woven of the same.

Now that may not sound very Bond Girl. It may not have made any difference to Johnny in Yorkshire wanting his country back, or Hazel in the Midlands worried about immigration. But it made a difference to how I felt and how I was able to show up for those around me.

 

Love over fear wins every time.

Love begins with loving all of you – shadow as well as light. 

[And if you think that’s easy, think again]

 

I’m also accepting that the painful cycle of birth, death and rebirth – as mirrored by the seasons year after year – is part of life on every level. Although frankly I am finding the dance of light and shadow a lot harder to accept in the collective sphere.

 

Lastly, my emotional entanglement with Brexit is giving me the nudge to come out of the comfortable little Priestess closet I’ve been hanging out in for the last year. This particular path may only be emerging but I certainly didn’t fish a dog-eared personal development handbook out of the bargain bin just yesterday. And I have things to say to an audience greater than myself.

 

So here we are.

It doesn’t sound much to love more in the face of the fear that Brexit has engendered on all sides of the fence and channel.

 

Especially to love ourselves more, with our own individual fears that have simply become manifest on a grand scale.

 

woman dancing in field with outstretched arms

But that’s what I’m choosing to do.

When I’m not dancing naked in the fields.

 

And maybe one day [soon], Johnny and Hazel’s (grand)daughters will join in.

 

 

 

Images: pinterest, stmarysgoochland.org, nancyaruegg.com

Woman putting flower petals into bathtub

It’s been a fairly intense, emotionally charged day. Make that a week, actually.

But I made it through today with grace, and a little help from my women friends.

Little Priestess is sleeping peacefully.

I’m as alone as it gets.

 

So I decide to create a sensual bath ritual for myself.

 

Back in the days when I donned a tailored suit, I thought taking baths was for sissies.

Having since become more intimately acquainted with Mami Wata, it’s hard to argue with the healing, cleansing and relaxing properties of a good soak.

Mami Wata painting of African Water Goddess

So this evening I go full out. We are talking candles. Goddess cards. Sea salt scrub with geranium and sandalwood oil. Rose petals and rosemary leaves.

 

I break a bottle of Walnut Flower essence* in the process of lighting the candles. It hits the sink and ricochets off the radiator before shattering on the floor.

I clean up.

My bathroom smells boozy.

 

I return to the ritual at hand.

I scrub. I bless. I pray.

 

morrocan-style bathtub with flowers and candlesI sink into the scented water and exhale the accumulated tension. I pray some more. I give thanks for my healthy body. I decide to do a long overdue chakra cleanse.

I work from the top down, imagining swirls of colour cleansing each energy centre.

By the time I get to my root chakra, a thunderstorm is brewing outside.

 

Then the door pushes open. I am not as alone as I thought.

A white streak dashes in, click clacking over the tiled floor.

 

Enter my beloved Jack Russell, petrified of rain and thunder. He paces the bathroom, unsuccessfully scanning for the nearest space to crawl under. There isn’t one. The closest hiding place is in a different room but I am not there so that won’t do.

 

I ignore the tapping claws and carry on cleansing – until an almighty racket breaks out behind me. The anxiety-ridden canine has catapulted onto the bathtub ledge and is wedging himself through the non-existent space between my head and the wall.

Before long I have a small dog sitting on my left shoulder, like a witches’ familiar, hyperventilating. Outside the thunder rages and the rain noisily pelts the conservatory roof below.

 

So I lie there with my dog digging nails into naked skin. I reassuringly scratch his chest until the storm abates and the water is cold. Then we work on a clumsy exit strategy that successfully avoids full canine immersion.

 

Meanwhile, blessedly, LP remains uit soos ‘n kersie – out like a light.

I dry myself off and crawl into bed to catch my forty winks… or so I think.

 

Turns out Mother Nature has a lot more to say with both water and voice.

 

Eventually, LP wakes up. Between her and the adrenalized terrier, sleep isn’t exactly forthcoming. At some point, I pile them all into bed with me and hope for the best.

The best – SLEEP – is yet to come.

And it’s fair to say that 8kg of frazzled male energy did not form part of my self-care fantasy.

 

But then I’m the first to concede that this spiritual journey isn’t all unicorns farting flowers.

And that, sometimes, the Goddess sure has a wicked sense of humour.

 

sky with dark clouds and lighning

 

Images: yourspiritsparkle.com, pinterest, s-tia.blogspot.com


* This remedy protects “against outside influences in general, and against the effects of change in particular” which seems apt for the eve of the EU referendum in the UK.