Each of us is a piece of the cosmos experiencing itself. We have always used our senses to do this, and our imaginations at least back to cave paintings, but in our world now, we have enhanced abilities so the piece of the cosmos we each represent can see more and experience more than our ancestors could dream of.
Zoom in and see the composition of nature.
A dried ginkgo leaf under a microscope.
Zoom out and see our earth from an impossible perspective.
Pan around the world and witness stories where you will never be.
Feed your inner divine cosmos with information and with imagination and with beauty at all scales.
The universe seeing itself was originally published on We're Made of Mud and Magic
In some desert areas, there are spectacular wildflower blooms after particularly wet winters. In the mountains, temporary waterfalls are created by spring snowmelt. Lunar and (especially) solar eclipses; meteor showers; comets, auroras, bird migrations, autumn foliage… there are marvels that come around us, and not too infrequently. We must not be “too busy” with quotidian affairs to experience them.
Seize the (Unusual) Day from the Atheopaganism blog
We can have as many natural holy days as we can notice. Where I live, in Vancouver, watch the flags and trees: when the wind starts blowing from the south, rain will arrive within a day. If we notice it coming – if we go outside to an open area away from wind tunnels and wind shadows every day – then we can celebrate both the last hours of sunshine and the return of the rains that nourish our temperate rainforest.
Maybe ideally we would celebrate every sunrise, every sunset, every sign of the changing seasons. The animist part of me knows that every piece of the world is sacred, so every day is a holy day. We’re surrounded by miracles and beauty every day, all the time, but we also need to pay the bills and visit the dentist and take out the recycling. And despite reading many cute articles about how to clean your house in a ritual or sacred way, I don’t feel like I’m connecting with a higher power while I’m crawling to vacuum under the couch. Though I’m lucky enough to have a day job that is aligned with my values, it is still work and my love of spreadsheets doesn’t make them sacred. I am not a monk.
I can’t live every moment in a state of awe or connectedness; that’s why we have rituals. If I try to make every day into a sacred day, I know that none of them will feel special. The full moon is beautiful to see, but seems remote and I’ve never quite got the habit of Esbats. But I am challenging myself to watch for the south wind coming in, and to honour those weather changes. And if they should bring with them one of Vancouver’s rare lightening storms, I’ll be thrilled to honour that too.
Watching for holy days was originally published on We're Made of Mud and Magic
I had a beautiful weekend. On Friday evening, Silver Spiral had a belated Litha. It was a gorgeous ritual. In the power raising, the group was given a fairly simple poem to turn into a chant. It started as just rhythmic speaking, than acquired melody, then evolved into a call and response with a complex…
Balance one; balance all was originally published on We're Made of Mud and Magic
When I was a little one, one of my favourite things to spot was a dandelion growing through the road. Not in the cracks in the sidewalks, but seemingly breaking right through the sticky black asphalt. I still watch for those stubborn little weeds. I also love when vines climb houses and fences and hide…
Determination of green was originally published on We're Made of Mud and Magic