Just another Day
As I greet each awakening day I see it through the eyes of a witch. When I get up each morning and step outside I can sense the self inflicted pains of the world as it is carried from place to place by a passing breeze. As the gentle air sweeps over me I add my own thoughts of sadness and hope to the whims of humanity that it carries amongst its currents.
I wonder how our brethren the Sylphs are able to survive in air that has been so sullied by such a spoiled people.
When I see a bee wandering from flower to flower, I think about the Great mysteries and how such a tenuous thread connects us all to the web of life. Such a delicate reality which is often taken for granted.
As I watch a gray squirrel chasing a nest mate playfully around and around the trunk of an old oak tree. A smile begins to form. And from this smile a burst of positive thought that is sent out to balance the negative energy that will surely raise its ugly head at some point during the day.
As I head to my car I hear the coarse greeting of brother crow. This is a special bond which extends to the dawn of time itself. And I feel a sense of comfort knowing that my spirit guide is close at hand. As a mentor he is ever ready to offer advice to one who is seeking, always seeking along the twists and turns of this realm.
As I join the herd of steel bison on my way to work, I look up and see a lone hawk circling about in the azure sky above. For a moment I am as one with this feathered denizen of the world above. The thrill of freedom while circling high above Mother Earth leaves me with a titillating sense of confidence. Returning back to my mundane senses I am left with an aura of individuality that cannot be tarnished. In a world that thrives on turmoil, I am so at peace with life and with those who would disrupt her tranquility.
As I arrive at work a red fox goes scampering across my path. She is heading towards the marsh that lines the glistening bay that forms the backdrop of my place of employment. As I watch her, thoughts of survival rise within my mind. And I ponder on the fate of my chosen path in a world where power and control are the Gods of the land. Such is this place where thoughts of spirituality are pushed to the sidelines in favor of instant gratification of the physical self. And I think, oh what a shallow goal, for the body will wither like a grape on a neglected vine and eventually fall to the wayside while the spirit shall live on forever.
As I look out upon the bay with its mysteries hidden deep within its murky depths, I notice a flock of seagulls darting and twisting about. And I think of how amused Manann Mac Lir must be on any given day as his children of the skies frolic about in search of a tasty tidbit. For they are a community chaotically connected in a unison rarely understood by those of us who walk the shorelines.
And I realize that in a sense my own species is also engaged in a chaotic community though we seldom find the unison that these seabirds enjoy. With a deep sigh I wave to them and whisper “you are very special my friends”.
And then at that moment a silvery fish comes exploding from the depths of the greenish-blue water. Droplets are falling all about as he shakes his mighty tail.
I begin to think of the Salmon who represents the Celtic concept of wisdom, feeding upon the hazelnuts that drop into the well from the tree above. And of how our world which is so full of strife, appears to be unwilling to accept the wisdom of the spirit. Instead we blindly follow the follies of ego which pushes us as a whole towards the brink of the abyss. As the ringlets of waves fade away so do my ponderings for I must enter the mundane world of humans.
As the day stretches on it is time to rejoin the steel herd of bison on a return trip back home.
As I travel along the black ribbon of asphalt rudely covering the surface of Mother Earth beneath its cold grasp, I espy a lone deer along the edge of the passing woods. I notice her soft brown eyes looking out on the mass of humanity blindly wending their way along, most of who are totally oblivious to her presence. And yet I can feel the waves of peace and docility emanating from such a gentle creature. And I think of the many lessons that my own race could learn from such a beautiful creature, if only we would open our hardened hearts.
As I near my home I look up and see several black buzzards circling about. And I think of how life evolves into death which once again gives way to life as the Sacred Circle completes itself. The ebb and flow of the Great Mysteries at work in a mystical spiral of which only a select few come close to understanding. And that measure of understanding is only within a certain realm of comprehension for the Great Mysteries are always just beyond reach as we stride forth in search of our inner selves. I think of the sadness that I feel over the many that have fallen to the wayside, content with just bits and pieces of the greater knowledge of self.
As I finally arrive home my own spirit shadow disguised as a black cat is waiting for me to disembark from the artificial shell that has constrained me from connecting with that which I cherish the most. I reach down with both hands as Shadow curls about my legs purring loudly. And I re-connect with Mother Earth with a love that is so deep and natural. I feel my physical self sighing with relief as it grounds and let’s go of all of the human inflicted nuances garnered throughout the day. I feel my spirit become as one with the setting sun.
For no matter what any given day may bring, at the end of each day I am simply a witch…