Knock Knock

I don’t know exactly how to put into words what working with Baba Yaga is like. I am not of Slavic descent, nor had I invested any time researching Slavic Paganism. The only connection I can offer is a few years of Ukrainian dance and that was a lifetime ago.

She showed up out of nowhere, in Ireland of all places and while I was elbows deep in a Morrigan pilgrimage. It seems that Baba Yaga likes to catch you off guard, your defenses down and open to whatever energies or deities come forward. Cerridwen and I had a long term relationship, having put things on hold so that I could focus on my work with The Morrigan. I met the Cailleach at Loughcrew and it wasn’t long before I sensed another presence. It definitely wasn’t The Morrigan, I was certain of that. No, this was someone new. Because I was in Ireland, I assumed it was Maeve, but the energy seemed off. So I decided to wait it out and just let things progress because there was no point in doing otherwise.

So she followed me home, Old Bony Legs. She made herself known and also made it clear that there was much Work ahead. She doesn’t need you to be Slavic. She doesn’t need you to be anything but yourself. But I will offer you this bit of advice. She does need you to be honest. Don’t even think about bullshitting her. She won’t hesitate to call you on it and she won’t be gentle when she does.

When the Gods retreat

I was a member of the Sisterhood of Avalon when the Morrigan arrived at my door. Not so much knocking gently but hammering mercilessly, demanding to be heard. My time with the Sisterhood was coming to an end and I made the decision to accept the Morrigan’s invitation. The work before me was beyond challenging. It was frightening and I spent most of my time up to my eyeballs in shit, for lack of a better term.

I knew better than to formally dedicate myself to her because she is notoriously tough and, as I would soon learn, unforgiving. I was tasked with a pretty major project, requiring a great deal of my time and energy. One afternoon, I was grumbling and acting like a child. I tripped and fell, resulting in an immensely painful hairline fracture. The lesson? Acts of service must be done without complaint.

I returned to Ireland and the cave. I was fully prepared to venture down and deepen my relationship with Herself. Much to my dismay, that was not her plan. I was to wait outside, holding space for those who made the journey within. I asked myself why I was deemed unworthy. What did I do wrong? What didn’t I do right? Her answer was that I was doing the Work that she needed. I was indeed worthy or I would not have been asked to hold space and ensure the well-being of those whose own Work lie within the cave.

One day, not long after my return home, the Morrigan told me that I was to clear off my altar. I assumed this was in preparation for more Work and did as I was told. I waited for further instruction as to where we were going from here. Nothing could have prepared me for her answer. Our work together was done.

Even after two decades, I find my practice as a polytheist to be a delicate balancing act. My time with the Sisterhood helped tremendously, as I worked with 5 Welsh Goddesses for a period of three years. Experiencing the ebb and flow of their presence in my life and as a focal point of my practice was enriching and stabilizing for me. But at no point did I consider that any of them would end our relationship. I foolishly believed that I was at the helm. So when the Morrigan left, I experienced a tremendous sense of loss and overwhelming grief. I couldn’t understand why she would abandon me. I see now that was part of the Work I was meant to do with her. To learn that the Gods are not at our disposal. They are not obligated to us in any way and are free to leave at any point, if that is what is needed.

I realized that this entire experience would not have happened at all if I were not open to it and capable of dealing with it, regardless of the pain it caused. I now understand that the reason the Morrigan had to leave was to make way for someone else, who would build on what we started and change my life in ways I could never have imagined.

Breathe

As Witches, many of us were taught not to use our own breath to extinguish a flame. That somehow, the act of exhalation is unclean. That our breath is not sacred enough to touch our Work.

In doing so, we are reinforcing the false belief that we are inherently flawed and not worthy of the tools we have chosen to use to empower ourselves. This false belief will work against us in our quest for Sovereignty. Unless we embrace every inch of ourselves - the physical, emotional, intellectual, artistic, sexual, spiritual, and so on - we cannot hope to integrate all that we have learned and move on. Part of us will remain stuck.

I can’t help but wonder if this is a purposeful act, put in place by those who are deeply afraid of anyone who seeks to empower themselves. Upon reflection, I have noticed a great many “Thou shall not’s” present in neo-Pagan literature. This isn’t to say that there aren’t things you need to be mindful of for your own safety. But using one’s own breath to extinguish a candle is not one of them.

So go ahead. Blow out your damn candle!

Where is Wisdom to be found?

"Here the Seeker, as a hawk, flies into the heart of their own darkness.  Into Aisling, dream-vision.  There to seize the nut of wisdom and exit with the dream-secret intact."

This statue was carved out of sycamore by Michael Quirke, the Woodcarver of Sligo. I met Mr. Quirke in 2015 and had the honor of an hour-long visit, during which time I watched him work and listened to him retell the myths.  Upon my return the following autumn, I spent yet another hour with him and requested this piece for my sacred space.  It remains one of my most treasured belongings.