Archive for Deborah Lipp

Blessed Solstice

December 21, 2011 / / Comments Off on Blessed Solstice

Do you ever wonder where the soul resides? Do you think it's comfortable there..?
Creative Commons License photo credit: gogoloopie

On the longest night of the year, we await the dawn.

The celebration of the Winter Solstice is the celebration of hope. In the darkness, we await light. We expect, anticipate, pray for, and believe in, that light.

Our human scientific knowledge has known for a very long time that the light would return. Certainly, by the time we were able to measure the astronomical phenomenon of solstice, we were able to understand that at the end of the longest night, the sun would rise. And yet, for all these centuries, we continue to await the dawn of the day after solstice, ending the longest night. Because it is not science that inspires us to believe the sun will rise. It is hope. It is the human spirit. It is our ability to look into the darkness and say “I see that light will come.”

I see that light will come.

“Yule” means “wheel.” We believe the wheel will turn. We believe that our dark nights will turn into bright dawns, and our cold winters will turn into warm springs. We believe.

It is faith itself we celebrate, lighting a single candle rather than cursing the darkness.

May your wheel turn. May your darkness end. May your dawn arise bright and glorious.

Blessed be.

The intrusion of nature

December 16, 2011 / / Comments Off on The intrusion of nature

I was riding to work and a leaf landed on my windshield.

Just that. Just, I was in a car, on a heavily-trafficked road, at a stoplight, commuting. I was all the things that aren’t about nature, and aren’t about the Gods. I was not thinking. I was not in sacred space, either in my mind or in my body.

And a leaf, a big brown leaf, landed on my windshield, exactly at eye level, and said “Look at me, I am nature.” Yes, leaf, you are. I looked.

Yes.

Adventures in Customer Service Follow-up

November 2, 2011 / / 2 comments

So, the Avenue wrote to me, very promptly, and showed me their “wide calf” boots on their website. They are 15″ in circumference. By contrast, Torrid’s are 18-20 inches. I bought at Torrid. Today I discovered Evans. They offer extra wide and extra wide-calf boots, but they don’t give specific measurements.

Meanwhile, I haven’t been watching many movies. I was away. But my next movie after the Prince of the City fiasco was fine. The next movie after that, however, was cracked down the middle. They really seem to be sabotaging their DVD collection.

Blessed Samhain: Honor the Ancestors

October 31, 2011 / / Comments Off on Blessed Samhain: Honor the Ancestors

Here’s what happens: At some point when you’re young, you face your first terrible, unexpected death. Some people, it is true, are born or raised in tragic circumstances, and death surrounds them: Iraqi children right now don’t know their first experience with death, because it is a background to their lives. But in more normal, more privileged circumstances, we recognize a moment as shifting things for us. My beloved, adored grandfather when I was nine. My father’s close friend when I was 16 (the friend was in his late 20s or early 30s; he died in a bizarre mountain-climbing accident). My fiance when I was 24.

We carry those dead with us. They are a personal photo wallet; we bring them to our dumb suppers, and we can allow them to change us.

And people keep dying. People we love, people near to us, people we admire from afar. People who are very old, and for whom death was timely, people for whom death was tragically young. Illness, accident, suicide, murder, war…death piles up.

And then, you are no longer young, and the people you carry with you are legion. It’s not a few photos in your wallet anymore, it’s an album.

This isn’t a terrible thing, this is nature. At Samhain, when we cast the circle, we are Between the Worlds. On the day when the veil between living and dead is most thin, we share our circle with beloveds on both sides, and if we are blessed, both sides are more crowded than we can accomodate, because our love is so big.

There are more people I love than would fit into my circle. Just among Pagans, just among people who might, potentially, have made it to ritual this weekend, there are more people I love than the room we used would accommodate. That’s a lot of love.

And among the dead? There were more whom I love than I had time to name. More than I remembered to name. More than I can count. My honored dead were with me, beloved, wept for, missed, and celebrating. I am sorry, so sorry, for the losses that came too soon. But I am happy for the love.

Netflix hates its customers

October 3, 2011 / / One comment

When Netflix announced all its changes a couple of weeks ago, people said they were deliberately trying to kill their DVD business, starting with the incredibly stupid name. And y’know, that conversation was fun and entertaining and I sort of thought it was humorous: Oh, look, we’re killing our own business on purpose.

Now I’m not so sure it’s a joke.

First of all, the last two discs I’ve received have been damaged and unplayable and needed to be replaced. My prior history of damaged discs is: One in October 2010, one in October 2009, one each in July and March of 2009, one each in 2008, 2007 and 2006. In other words, damaged discs since the announcement equals MORE than damaged discs in 4 of the past 5 years.

Second of all, let me tell you about Prince of the City.

Prince of the City is a 1981 movie that is not obscure. It was Oscar- and Golden Globe-nominated. It was directed by Sidney Lumet. It has a 94% fresh rating on Rotten Tomatoes. It was highly recommended to me so I put it at the top of my queue.

It’s a two disc set because it is VERY LONG (167 minutes, which is like, days). We watched disc one, popped in disc two: Unplayable. Damaged, scratched, skipping, dreck. So I reported it damaged and shipped it. When my replacement arrived, we sat down to watch and discovered they’d sent disc one. Aggravated, I went to the website to report the mistake, but now the website didn’t say “Disc One” and “Disc Two” as it had before, now I could only report “Prince of the City.” I did report it, but I wasn’t sure that actually worked, so I phoned.

As always, the rep was very nice. I explained the issue and he said he’d make sure disc two was sent. Then he put me on hold and came back and said disc two isn’t available. “I hate to be the bringer of bad news,” he said. It’s “rare” and “out of print” and the damaged one I had must have been the very last copy. Why, I asked, did you send me disc one if that was the case? Did you think that would help? Do you know I’ve seen HALF A MOVIE?

He didn’t offer to find it from another shipping location. He didn’t offer a free month or a free day or a free anything. All he did was commiserate. And I’ve still seen half a movie. Half a LONG movie that I’ve already invested a lot of my life in.

Meanwhile, my Netflix queue shows that my disc was “reported mislabeled.” It was not. It very clearly said “Disc One” on the envelope and the disc. Apparently, they purposely sent me the half of the movie I’d already seen, imagining that somehow worked as an effective substitute. And, my queue also tells me that disc one is again on its way to me. Oh, goodie.

Netflix, please, just set your warehouse on fire. It will be easier.

Return to Me

September 30, 2011 / / Comments Off on Return to Me

I acknowledge that I’m a crazy cat lady. It’s not unusual for a Witch. I keep it toned down and have never had more than two cats at once, but I have unreasonably passionate relationships with them. I choose to confine my cats to the indoors. There are pro and con arguments, but indoor cats live longer, aren’t prone to fleas, and don’t catch Feline Leukemia.

I had Watusi for exactly four years. She was an extraordinary creature. She kissed on the lips. She called the Quarters in ritual. The down side of indoor cats is if they get out, they aren’t good at coming back home. Arthur inadvertently left the door open and we never saw her again. It broke my heart.

The very weekend we lost Watusi, my friend Mary showed me the kittens she was giving away. I ultimately took two: Mingo and Fanty. Fanty is not a favorite: She’s skittish, nervous, demanding, and a crier. But Mingo was extraordinary. He didn’t like calling the Quarters, and had no interest in the ritual setup, but the minute you announced that a spell or trance was about to happen, all of a sudden, from nowhere, he was underfoot or in your lap. He was a wonderful lap cap and a good cuddler, and he comforted Arthur through a prolonged illness.

Mingo, too, lasted exactly four years, escaping through a screen door we didn’t know was broken.

I lived two months with Fanty, a needy animal I don’t much love, before bringing home Callisto.

Who is extraordinary. She has no interest in magic or ritual, but she gives love like a Priestess of Ishtar. She is soothing and kind, loving and sweet. She holds hands. She tucks herself under my arm to sleep. She follows me like a German Shepherd. She is my one-eyed angel.

I’ve had her for just over a year. I dread the notion of four years. I dread the thought of losing her. I’ve done binding magic; sprinkled my life force into her food, woven spells about her. Still I fear.

This week was her annual checkup, and I had her microchipped. I’d never discussed it with a vet before–the vet never brought it up, probably because I have indoor cats. I had imagined it was very expensive, but it isn’t at all. It was painless and took no time at all.

Doing it, I choked up. I don’t have to lose her. I don’t have to lose her. I don’t have to lose her.

Loser

September 26, 2011 / / Comments Off on Loser

In preparation for my trip to Brazil, I’ve been studying Portuguese.

Last night, I was fascinated to realize that the verb in “to lose weight,” the verb in “to lose a game,” and the verb in “to be lost” are all the same (peder). Okay, sure, they’re all the same in English too, but there’s no inherent reason for a language to make the opposite of gain, the opposite of win, and the opposite of find the same word.

Fascinating.

Blessed Equinox!

September 23, 2011 / / Comments Off on Blessed Equinox!

It’s the Fall Equinox. May the turning of the seasons brighten your life.

It’s always been an odd holiday for me; it’s the middle of three harvests, and the other two: Lammas and Samhain, have a great deal more folklore and interesting accouterments. I mean, Lammas, you’ve got all that bread baking, all the traditional gathering stuff, the games, the murder of John Barleycorn: Very colorful. Then there’s Samhain, which, hello, is when the whole world wakes up and notices Witches. Costumes, death, apple-bobbing, dumb suppers, funerary rites, and that whole New Year thing.

So Fall Equinox sits there like a red-headed stepchild, and no modern renaming (“Mabon”) is going to change that. It’s also known as Harvest Home, and some people do a Thanksgiving thing, but I’ve got a close biological family and we do the November Thanksgiving to a fare-thee-well, so I can’t say I’m excited about another one.

Most importantly, the Wheel is turning, and it will continue to turn. We mark our lives by these 8 moments, and that’s incredibly important. Also important, the perfect balance of light and dark. We stand between Summer and Autumn, and can look in both directions at once.

So we must ask: What is ahead? What is behind?

Blessed be.

We need joy

May 2, 2011 / / 2 comments

You don’t need me to tell you how bleak the news has been lately. Massacres, political oppression at home and abroad, natural disasters, threat of nuclear meltdown, tornadoes, union busting, racism, and tragedy. Half the time I want to hide under the bed, or stop listening to the news.

I didn’t wake up at 4 a.m. to watch the royal wedding, but I looked at pictures on the Internet, and it gave me a thrill. The hats alone are enough to cheer anyone up. I watched my DVR Today Show coverage on Saturday, and a little more of it on Sunday (there was a lot), and I have to say, it felt good. I’m not one of those royal-obsessed people, but you absorb a certain amount of information, and y’know, I’m Oscar obsessed, and there were two Oscar-winning movies about this particular royal family in the past four years. It’s a strangely-constrained life the Windsors lead, but they allow people to gather around a sense of nationalism that transcends politics. The occasion was beautiful, and when Prince William leaned in and kissed his bride a second time, yes, I kvelled.

And then, last night, the news that Osama bin Laden has finally been killed. I know it’s strange and ambivalent to celebrate death, but I celebrate a victory, and a closure, and a sense of triumph, and again, a sense of nationalism that transcends politics (although there are definitely politics involved).

We can’t just be serious-minded day in, day out, caring about all that bad stuff and struggling to make a difference. We need the punctuations of joy. We need to feel, this is good, this is pretty, this is a win. We need to hug each other and say YES! We need to know that life has all the colors, not just the grays.

How lovely that all this happened around Beltane. May the springtime be our color in a life with too much gray. Blessed be to all!

Spring just might come

March 17, 2011 / / Comments Off on Spring just might come

We spend the whole damn winter longing for spring. Counting the hours. Watching the damn groundhog.

But our longing doesn’t mitigate the fact that at some level we don’t believe it will come. That the first day it’s warm in a timely manner, we’re surprised. (In a timely manner because, sure, if it’s February 10, we are surprised by sixty degree weather, but on March 17, we shouldn’t be.) At some point, we—at least I—settle into a deep fatalism about winter; it’s here, it will always be here, it has always been here, where’s my scarf and coat?

Yet spring comes.

And February was so long that it lasted into March
And found us walking a path alone together
You stopped and pointed, and you said, “That’s a crocus”
And I said, “What’s a crocus?,” and you said, “It’s a flower”
I tried to remember, but I said, “What’s a flower?”
You said, “I still love you.”

–Dar Williams, “February”

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