We say the words, we enter the Circle – a world between worlds – and it's on to the ritual. The end.
The end? We just declared we brought two attributes into our sacred space, and into the presence of our gods. What are we actually declaring? Do we even think about it? We stick it on everything that can be bartered and sold, but is it merely a logo? Below are some images I borrowed from the web. Have a look:
|There are tee-shirts|
|and yes - even skank-wear|
Per the conventional understanding of the word, no one has “perfect” anything, let alone LOVE. There isn't any relationship which is so smooth and seamless that there is no disagreement, pressure, stress, anger, misunderstanding or pain. There is no TRUST so perfect that it hasn't been tested or doubted. That is not what is intended by the use of “perfect” in the Craft.
It's retaining your passion and compassion, your heart and forgiveness, your loyalty and respect DESPITE the doubt, disruption and suspicion. The mainstay of such love is communication – talking it out, being willing to be hurt in order to be heard, daring to love despite the cold and silence. It means going beyond your own ego to make the first move, posing the hard question aloud, “risking it” to demonstrate – and salvage – that love.
This should hold true in romantic relationships, family ties, the bond of friendship, and devotion to the Craft. If you can not approach Wicca “In perfect love and perfect trust” - willing to overlook human flaws, to question hazy concepts and trust your coven mates to “have your back” (and talk it out honestly if they don't) – you should respectfully leave.
The Craft, regardless of tradition, should fee like home. You should find love, support and learning there, but also challenge, demands and (often) difficult training.
Perfect Love and Perfect Trust means seeing it through, being “present” and committed. There is precious little of that, these days. Coveners gossip and grow impatient with their priesthood. It seems many of the younger folk want instant magical gratification and elevation, or fall back into lazy ways in response to expectations. (“I can't come to Circe tonight – dog ate my Book of Shadows.”)
Truth – a valuable part of Love and Trust – is treated so subjectively that Pilate's question “What is truth?” echoes today in both kirk AND Circle. We need to return to our basics. W don't need cooler robes, fancier blades, striking new jewelry, or one more pricey goddess statue. We need to reclaim our humanity, our love of God and Goddess, and a joy in each other. We need to develop respect for all – even ourselves. We need to unlock our hearts.
It takes one step, the courage to be the first to move towards the “Divine” in the “other guy” and simply love the miracle that is another being. Anyone willing to risk their hearts to discover Perfect Love and Perfect Trust? I know I've decided to make the effort, even if my knees knock and my outstretched hand is quaking like as Aspen – and goes un-grasped. I will not dwell in negativity or empty words. I'm cleaning house and heading home once again to reclaim that perfect love. Anyone else willing to make the journey?
And, with that, so endeth the lesson.
On a more personal and mundane level, things are moving along with my foot. I'm out of the splint and wrapped in luna boot gauze. I'm told I can walk on it, but that scares the hell out of me. I take a step here and there, but otherwise use the roll-about. However, my foot is looking more "normal". See?
|Almost looks like a real foot again|
Working full time has taken a lot of writing hours away from me, but I am still in hot pursuit of the elusive “Jersey Goyles.” I have been using images on Google to try and identify sites that others may have photographed, and that has led me to Hightstown, Perth Amboy, Elizabeth and beyond. It's a process, but I'm enjoying the hell out of it.
I'll probably start writing the text of the piece next week, and adjust it according to the images I finally locate. Sad gargoyle news: New Brunswick use to have one “river face” style gargoyle on an older downtown building. Gary when to photograph it – and she's gone. Only the mortar brackets remain. What is WITH you people? Was she hurting anybody? With the school of art around the corner and an art museum down the road, this is how public art is treated? Bring back my gargoyle! (Sorry – stuff like this really pops my cork.)
See ya next week!