In October 2016, I was given the story you are about to hear, knowing it was a part of something much bigger. I have told this story in a darkened basement, in the midst of a Moroccan market place, to hedgedwellers and skyflyers, and now, dear Substackers, to you. It is an ending of sorts, but also a beginning. For the next year and a day, because of course, all the best of witchery is often held within the spell of one year and one day, we will excavate a little more of this bigger story. It may appear for us in the middle of the night, or when the noon day sun shines through a dusty window. The moon might have wandered out of our sight, or be at its brightest. For who can know the way of a thing that lives outside of human linear time. With this in mind, the fragments of tale that arrive will not be in the expected beginning-middle-end format but as and when that particular part wishes to make itself known. Beseeches and offerings will, of course be made, to the One who first gave me the story all those years ago and we can only hold our collective breaths that she will answer and grant us the priveledge of more. So, join me as we begin, with this Winter Solstice New Moon, the cycle that will call forth the ash and bone of the mythic…
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In October 2016, I was given the story you are about to hear, knowing it was a part of something much bigger. I have told this story in a darkened basement, in the midst of a Moroccan market place, to hedgedwellers and skyflyers, and now, dear Substackers, to you. It is an ending of sorts, but also a beginning. For the next year and a day, because of course, all the best of witchery is often held within the spell of one year and one day, we will excavate a little more of this bigger story. It may appear for us in the middle of the night, or when the noon day sun shines through a dusty window. The moon might have wandered out of our sight, or be at its brightest. For who can know the way of a thing that lives outside of human linear time. With this in mind, the fragments of tale that arrive will not be in the expected beginning-middle-end format but as and when that particular part wishes to make itself known. Beseeches and offerings will, of course be made, to the One who first gave me the story all those years ago and we can only hold our collective breaths that she will answer and grant us the priveledge of more. So, join me as we begin, with this Winter Solstice New Moon, the cycle that will call forth the ash and bone of the mythic…
I am secretly delighted in ways I do not fully intellectually understand that the calendar year ends with a New Moon. My ancientness knows though. Feeds on the ways of natural cycles that follow no logical human order.
One of the dear friends and some time mentor that reminds me of these soul nourishments is the fantastical Sarah Mooney.
Sarah produces a weekly podcast called Mooney's Mythic Podcast. I would highly recommend curling up with her each week to be transported on rich and luxurious magic carpets of words
She graced us all with her words for the Winter Solstice last season and returns once more for a glorious dive into the winter darkness within.
We dare you to not get comfortable, to be niggled by your discomfort, and walk with us anyway through an ending that is also a beginning…
The Faerytale Apothecary
In October 2016, I was given the story you are about to hear, knowing it was a part of something much bigger. I have told this story in a darkened basement, in the midst of a Moroccan market place, to hedgedwellers and skyflyers, and now, dear Substackers, to you. It is an ending of sorts, but also a beginning. For the next year and a day, because of course, all the best of witchery is often held within the spell of one year and one day, we will excavate a little more of this bigger story. It may appear for us in the middle of the night, or when the noon day sun shines through a dusty window. The moon might have wandered out of our sight, or be at its brightest. For who can know the way of a thing that lives outside of human linear time. With this in mind, the fragments of tale that arrive will not be in the expected beginning-middle-end format but as and when that particular part wishes to make itself known. Beseeches and offerings will, of course be made, to the One who first gave me the story all those years ago and we can only hold our collective breaths that she will answer and grant us the priveledge of more. So, join me as we begin, with this Winter Solstice New Moon, the cycle that will call forth the ash and bone of the mythic…
