Posts Tagged ‘Wicca’

image from spirit_elements-www-josephinewall-co

image from spirit_elements-www-josephinewall.co.uk

Two years before my marriage breakdown my father had passed away after a nasty battle with cancer. As anyone who has had anything to do with cancer knows, it isn’t an easy journey. Dad had Myeloid Leukemia and as time passed I became aware that I was hearing Nanny call me more and more often. I would lay awake at night waiting for her to call me, finally falling asleep only to wake when I heard her calling me, then lose any connection when I spoke. I became more frustrated with myself, wishing I could ‘wake’ just enough to ‘talk’ to her without saying anything, which I thought was stopping her from speaking to me.

I read everything I could find about Angels and spirit communication. I listened to anything I could on CD or video but couldn’t get to see or speak to anyone. (My ex called it “that rubbish”). I was frustrated and saddened by my failure to learn something which might bring some peace to Dad or Mum who was herself very ill. Yes, and answer some of my questions.

After his passing he seemed to be with me often. His particular scent was everywhere and I felt if I could turn quickly enough I might be able to glimpse him before he vanished. I began hearing him calling my name as I slept too. It was comforting but frustrating as I felt I was missing something important. Yet I had no idea where to go to find the answers. It seemed everyone was calling me and I was unable to hear what they wanted me to hear.

image from myvoiceonthewingsofchange.blogspot.com

Twelve months later my father in law passed away. I was shocked when I heard his voice call me. We had traveled out to Texas to see him, knowing in my heart we would be saying goodbye. Once I saw him in the hospital I heard voices all around me, his family waiting. A planned short visit became a dire need to stay overnight, one I knew would be the last but which my husband refused to accept. As I waited for him to return from collecting overnight items I heard his father calling my name. Yet neither of us said a word. Within minutes of his return his father passed away.

I was shocked by my experiences in the hospital. The last years had seen a growing divide between his father and I, almost in line with the decline of my marriage and I was stunned at the experience I had whilst I was alone with him.  Now I had even more questions. Why did he speak to me after all ‘this’ time’? “Why” could I hear his family when I had never been able to form a close relationship with them over the years? It was inexplicable to me at that time.

Twelve months later my marriage broke down completely and my foray into other avenues to find the answers which filled my mind finally began in earnest.

I began to actively seek out groups I could get to, Paganism, Wicca, Angelic workshops, Spiritual churches. Online and in person I searched for a reason for the why of life and death which perplexed me.  I pursued my Reiki healing and then followed with other healing modalities. I could feel my senses expanding and sense things even more intensely. I attended Doreen Virtues Angel workshops and became an accredited Angel practitioner. I bought and became proficient with a range of tarot cards but apart from friends lacked the trust in myself to read for anyone else. A wonderful ‘seminar’ with some famous psychics arranged by Hay House was a highlight at the time. I had so many questions bubbling away inside and no opportunity to ask any!

I became involved with a couple of Wiccan groups, only to find we didn’t ‘fit’, beautiful people and I had some answers and learned a great deal. Much of what I learned made sense but didn’t answer everything completely. In the process of searching through online groups I came across a colourful individual, I’ll call Evan, a colourful character who had led a colourful life.

Evan and his family lived in the Woodford area and I was invited up to meet them…. I gathered it was an inspection process to see if I would fit in with the group. It was a strange meeting, filled with questions and the impression of being ‘weighed and measured’.  In retrospect it was rather funny. They had their ceremonies which appeared to be very similar to the Wicca groups, but there was a hint that there was ‘more I could learn if things went well’. This intrigued me even more. What could be so secret that I had to ‘prove’ myself before I could find out about it. It certainly didn’t sound like any of the Wicca I’d been involved in or studied. It did, however, sound very much like it might lead to a darker kind of practice. My curiosity was piqued.

Now I know from my studies that Paganism is not ‘black magic’ yet I also know that there are those who do take such worship down darker paths. The feelings I received as we performed our full moon celebrations did not leave me feeling happy and joyous but uncomfortable and brooding, waiting for something further to happen. The secrecy and mystery they surrounded their celebrations with also made my hackles rise.

My years of reading Dennis Wheatley came to the fore and it took little time talking with the other members of the group to learn that the New Moon celebrations were more ‘interesting’. Now why should that be? Why were the chants so strange? Why were we not allowed to see them until the ceremony was about to start?

People stop seeing you for who you really are after a while and I sat and listened to what was happening. I’m sure everyone has seen the backward writing which your brain can read easily after a few seconds. All the words for their ceremonies were written in reversed order. Nothing ‘bad’ that I could ever saw, but what went on at those ceremonies I was not invited to?  As time passed I became more uncomfortable. Their costumes became more flamboyant and brief and their talk left me in no doubt that their altar was not a place to honour life. Not in the way I would like.

Common  sense told me to simply stop going there as I had already heard of past members having somewhat unfortunate accidents. My police ‘radar’ was working overtime, and my angels were pulling me away. After my snake episode. yes, it was Evan who gave me the cranky snake, I’d had enough searching down this avenue. Discretion was the better part of valor!

Then I met an old friend from my children’s primary school who was having weekly meetings at her home. Reiki practice, angelic and spiritual discussions and demonstrations. A new era was starting.

We are not human beings having a spiritual experience. We are spiritual beings having a human experience.”
Pierre Teilhard de Chardin


Blessings, Susan x


Next week, New worlds open up.

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For some of us, it really doesn’t matter how many times we are told that pythons are not dangerous, they always will be. In researching for this post I have seen gigantic pythons, enough to give me nightmares and others which have their mouth dislocated so that they have the whole body of a fairly large wallaby half way down its gullet! It has brought back all the reasons why I decided I would never, ever, be persuaded to have a python as a pet – never, not ever….again!

I had been on a long search, looking for answers and something I knew I could believe in without having to be indoctrinated into something mindlessly. I read voraciously and talked to many people and different groups. It was during this search that I came across some rather unusual and interesting people. It was this which led me to their property at Woodford.

For those who may not know, Woodford is a small country town north of Brisbane, Queensland. It is well known for the Woodford Folk Festival which is held after Christmas each year. Each month I would drive through Woodford, past the Woodford Correctional Centre which looked quite eerie on a foggy winters evening with the lights glowing, and around the back of the mountain to their property.

I was continually told how safe pythons were, and associated with the goddess….. and eventually I located a huge 12 foot glass shop counter, built a ‘hide’ and fixed the ‘cage’ up correctly and installed a nice two foot python.  I would never call it cute or cuddly but there you are, sometimes sanity takes a break as it had done.

A few months later we saw our friends at Woodford after there had been a bad bushfire in the area. We had stayed away because of the fire and hearing that Shirley Strachan, lead singer for Skyhooks had died in a helicopter accident whilst flying over Mount Archer. I was told, with great gusto, that they had a special surprise for me, a python they had rescued from the bushfire, burns healed and needing to recover for a while before being handled too much. I couldn’t see it as it was already tied securely in a pillow case. Hmm.

After reaching home, with a little help (the pillow case was darned heavy) I managed to pour this ENORMOUS snake into its new habitat. OMG!  Once in it immediately took over the hide from the little fellow. It wasn’t long before I found out it was not a happy camper at all. It did not appreciate being ‘rescued’ nor being kept in a large, safe ‘prison’.

Feeding snakes is not nice. Feeding large angry snakes is very unpleasant. At first it lunged violently towards its food (rats) and went back into its corner. However it very quickly decided the rats were not good enough and began to launch itself towards the hand that fed it! Things were getting out of hand rapidly.

The next episode, after being attacked for a week was the cage cleaning.  The snakes had to be removed from the cage so that it was easier to clean it out. Usually this was not a problem. The little fellow had always enjoyed being held whilst this happened, but Snarly Charley had made him a teeny meany and very unruly.  The big fellow had to come out. It was too dangerous to put your hands in whilst he was there…. I had no intention of being dinner!

Calling on help my friend grabbed the python whilst I started to clean the cage. At the sound of a startled grunt I looked up to a scary sight. My friend had a bad arm, one elbow frozen, so had only one really good arm. Needless to say, Snarly Charley had wrapped his strong body around his good arm and he was trying to fend off the lunges from Snarly Charley by trying to hold behind his head with his bad arm. His arm was a strange shade of purple and so was his face. I had to drop everything and start to unwind this strong and very angry reptile from around his arm. We were both puffing and panting and purple in the face by the time he was pushed back into the cage.

“That’s it” I screeched, “No More, It Goes Tomorrow!”

So the next day we gingerly approached the cage. Charley had finally deigned to eat a rat and I hoped he would be a little calmer. I guess it worked because we managed to get him into a pillow case without losing any fingers or being attacked. Onto the back seat and off we went for a drive into the bush.

Finding a nice shady spot amongst the trees and away from any people or houses we carefully tipped Snarly Charley onto the ground. I did say gently too, didn’t I? Breathing a sigh of relief as the last of his body left the pillow case I slowly started to walk back up the trail towards where the car was parked.

Hearing a rustling behind me I looked over my shoulder to see a sight which almost made my blood curdle. Here was Snarly Charley moving faster than I would have believed possible, charging up the track towards me. He did not look happy at being released. He did not look happy at no longer being in a pillow case or a cage. He did not look happy at all. He looked like he was seeing his next meal walking away from him and he was going to do something about that.

With visions of snakes eating animals whole, even if they weren’t as big as I was, I believed he was going to try to have me for his celebratory dinner.  I felt very small at that moment and none too sure about the next five minutes.  I’m not ashamed to say I turned tail and ran. I didn’t stop until I reached the car, grabbing the door handle and almost falling inside.

I didn’t want to check to see if it was still following me, I didn’t even care at that moment where it was. I was leaving and never again would a snake be in my house. Never!

Taking off with unseemly haste I drove away. Fortunately my friend had already reached the car before me…. I’m not saying he was a chicken but he wasn’t taking any chances either.

I never saw Snarly Charley ever again and his friend was sold to a pet store. All snake paraphernalia was removed with a vow to never darken my doors again….. and they haven’t.

That old saying from Peter Pan…. “Never smile at a crocodile, don’t be taken in by his welcome grin”…. well for me that goes for charming pythons as well.

If you’re a snake lover, that’s nice, but if you’re not, that;s ok too.

Cheers Susan x

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