Meditation: Visiting the Black Goddess at Imbolc

Our tradition uses guided meditation to help impress certain symbols on our members' consciousness. Below is our Imbolc meditation. It takes place at the Northern Gate of the compass, the place of air and midnight.  It is the home of the Black Goddess, whom we know as Kolyo. To use this meditation let yourself relax comfortably and picture yourself drifting downward and inward to the third realm, the lower realm. The third realm is a place of darkness and mystery.  Let yourself sink down into the third realm and rest there peacefully.

Meditation: Visiting the Black Goddess, Kolyo

You awaken in the darkness on a windy, snow-covered plain. The frozen ground crunches beneath your hands and feet as you rise and look to the North, trying to make out the shape of the gate you know must lie ahead in the darkness. A gust of icy wind greets you, making your eyes water.

The plain is nearly barren in all directions, with the exception of a naked Willow tree, its branches sparkling in the cold, clear starlight. You walk carefully through the frozen landscape, having made the tree your first goal.

When you arrive under the drooping branches, you find a staff leaning against the trunk. You examine the markings and decorations on the staff and then continue along your northward path, now utilizing the staff for greater stability on the sometimes treacherous and slippery earth.

A movement in the shadows catches your eye and you turn your head just as it reaches your side and brushes your leg. The cat stands for a moment, its back arched and looking up the path you are walking before lifting its face to look at you. It meows. You reach down to touch the friendly animal, but it bolts forward, just out of your reach. It meows again and takes a few steps forward. You follow, and the cat picks up the pace, jogging on its silent, padded paws.

A night bird swooshes very close to your head, startling you. You can see the faintest paleness of its wings, but you can hear no evidence of it, even as you watch it fly ahead. Far away, you think you hear the hoot of barred owl.

Looming ahead of you is a stony archway – two large rock pillars capped by a third massive stone. A dolman. Beyond this strange gate, you see nothing but more of the same night-covered and frozen plain. You could easily walk around this dolman door, but instead, you walk right up to it.  The cat rubs its side against one of the pillars, and you can see that the owl has perched on top. The dolman is covered with strange markings and symbols carved into the stones. Some are unfamiliar to you, but others have deep meaning in your mind. (Pause.) You see an owl with large eyes carved into one of the rocks along with the Willow tree rune and a cat.

Your ears perceive a whistled tune as you pass beyond the arch, and your eyes search the darkness for the one who is blowing the eerie music. You can see so little that you must trust to your hearing instead, and you follow the sound until you are aware of a small, darkly-cloaked figure standing just a few yards away. You are close enough now to hear her breathing.

The small figure holds up her hand in warning. “Come closer, Child. But be wary of your footing.” You walk forward more slowly, using your staff to judge the safety of each step. As you breech those last few yards between you and Her, you are aware of a wind that seems to come from the ground, and you realize that you are standing together at the edge of a steep and treacherous cliff. You brace yourself and know that you are secure, even at this height.

Turning your attention to Cloaked One, you can see very little of her face, as it is shrouded in both her hood and the darkness of the night. Her out-held hand is gloved. You cannot clearly see the color of her hair, although you can see an interplay of light and dark in the strands. She holds a staff, and sometimes it seems she leans upon it. At other times, it seems like a weapon she is holding at martial ease.

Her voice is clear and ageless.

She speaks to you. “This is a place of knowledge, of wisdom, and of strategy. It is a place of contemplation, a place of counsel. It can be bitterly cold here, and the Truth that you seek can be both illusory and fleeting.” (Pause.) She hangs a lantern from the end of your staff and lights the wick. “But knowledge and thought are not always cold comforts. They can be the light one needs on the darkest nights of the soul.”

She lashes a sharpened metal tip onto her staff, transforming it into a spear. She pulls a single arrow from the quiver at her side, removing the arrowhead and feathers. She holds the newly fashioned wand in one hand and holds up a single finger of the other. “Weapons are tools wielded for either attack or defense. But they are just tools. The most useful tools can be used in both peace and war.” She pokes you with her finger. “And the greatest tools are the ones that lie within.” She gives you the wand, grasping your hand for a moment and whispering a message only for you. (Long pause.)

You thank her, and after a moment more of looking at you, she turns back to look over the cliff. Knowing that the time has come to leave, you turn and walk back through the darkness.

You pass out of the dolman and cross the plain, led once more by the cat and owl. You pass under the Willow tree, returning the staff that you borrowed. Sitting down again in the frozen field, you close your eyes and breathe deeply, coming back to yourself.

Meditation: Visiting the Red God, Qayin, at Beltaine

Our tradition uses guided meditation to help impress certain symbols on our members' consciousness. Below is our Beltaine meditation. It takes place at the Eastern Gate of the compass, the place of fire and sunrise.  It is the home of the Witch Father, whom we know as Tubal Qayin, Lucifer, Azazel, Melek Taus. To use this meditation let yourself relax comfortably and picture yourself drifting downward and inward to the third realm, the lower realm. The third realm is a place of darkness and mystery.  Let yourself sink down into the third realm and rest there peacefully.

Meditation: Visiting the Red God, Qayin

You awake in a broad, newly plowed field just before sunrise. The world to the West is still dark, murky and sleepy-looking, while to your East a fiery sun is beginning to rise on the pale lanscape. The chill of an early spring morning clings to you. The soil beneath you is rich and dark, marked in deep furrows from the plow. The fertile, damp smell of the land fills your nose as you breathe deeply and begin walking toward the East, toward the growing light.

A fence with a gate is ahead of you across the field, and you can hear the lowing of cattle now. As you get closer, you can see the shapes of the cows becoming clearer. You open the gate and cross into the grassy pasture where the cows graze and move lazily. They watch you intermittently as you continue across their field. One of the cattle watches you intensely, but it is no cow. This bull shifts his weight impatiently while keeping his gaze fixed on you. You continue your path across the field, hurrying as the sun continues to rise, and light and heat start perking up the countryside.

A hedge of dense, knotted Hawthorn trees spreads along the next fence, and you spot the gate in its midst. You cross through the old farm gate as you take notice of the trees. Their bright white blooms and long thorns both welcome and warn.

In the glinting light of the sunrise, you see bees bobbing and buzzing along the Hawthorns. You watch them dance as they work. One lands lightly on your hand, and you know that it has no intention of stinging you. Raising your hand to eye level, you look at the tiny creature for a moment. Its feet tickle your hand, making your skin twitch, and it flies away to the East, where you lose sight of it in the now bright sunrise.

Looking along the landscape in the direction that the bee flew, you see a mound of earth. As you focus your attention on it, you’re certain you hear a clinking sound, as well. Curious, you continue your eastward path until you find yourself standing in front of a small hill with a stony cave door. Strange markings have been carved and painted onto the stones around the mouth of the cave and you take a moment to look at them.

You’re certain now that the sounds you heard came from within the cave, and you can see the glow of firelight coming from deep within. The wet, mustiness of the cave’s scent is mixed with the smell of burning coals, here.

The cave path is smooth and descends slightly as it curves naturally to the left. The sounds have grown distinctly louder since you first heard them. No longer a vague clinking, you now hear the rhythmic beating of metal against metal – tap, tap, bang; tap, tap, bang. The cave is both hot and bright here, and as you round the last corner, you see a large chamber filled with both the glinting metal of finished projects and the carbon-blackened metal of work waiting to be done. Plowshares and picthforks lean against one wall, accompanied by spears and swords. In a far corner, you see the glint of gold and silver wrought into fine filigrees and tooled with delicate markings. You also see pieces of unshaped, untouched metal, dull but full of potential

A fire in a ringed enclosure dominates the middle of the room, and a large man is silhouetted by its flame. His skin looks burnished from the heat and soot, and you watch as his powerful form easily handles the bellows, the large hammer upon the massive anvil.

His eyes glint as he sees you, and he holds you in a piercing stare, though he doesn’t stop his movement and work. Tap, tap, bang; tap, tap, bang. You notice the metal in his hands and you recognize what he is making. He places the object back into the forge fire, allowing it to regain a red-hot glow before removing it again.  Tap, tap, bang.

Still working, he speaks to you. “The forge of the Witch Father holds much magic and mystery. This is a place of transformation, of alchemy, of great power.”

He beckons you toward him and places your hand upon the anvil. It is very hot, but it doesn’t burn you. Holding your hand upon the anvil with his own, he looks into your eyes and speaks a message only for you.

You thank him, and after a moment more of looking at you, he resumes his work. Knowing that the time has come to leave, you turn and walk back up the cave path, curving on a right-hand path now toward the fresh air and daylight.

You pass again by the bees, busy in the Hawthorns, and by the cattle in their pasture. Returning to the plowed field, you take a moment before sitting down in the rich soil. You close your eyes and breathe deeply, coming back to yourself.

Meditation: Visiting the Golden Queen, Hulda

Our tradition uses guided meditation to help impress certain symbols on our member's consciousness. Below is our Spring Equinox meditation. It takes place in the Castle of Revelry, which is the northeast area of our compass.  It is the home of the Golden Queen, who we honor as Hulda, Holt, or Holle. To use this meditation let yourself relax comfortably and picture yourself drifting downward and inward to the third realm, the lower realm. The third realm is a place of darkness and mystery.  Let yourself sink down into the third realm and rest there peacefully.

Meditation: Visiting the Golden Queen, Hulda

You awake to find yourself in a forest of birch trees just before dawn.  It is early spring and the air is damp and cold.  Paperwhite narcissus nod their heads beneath the stands of slender white birch.  You face the east, and notice a rosy glow in the sky there. 

Suddenly from a thicket a rabbit darts forth.  It stops in your path and sits upright on its haunches observing you.  Its dark sparking eyes regard you coolly.  It twitches its nose at you, as if to say, “follow me!” It turns slowly to the east and dashes through the forest.  You hurry eastward after the rabbit.  As you follow it you begin to realize that it is leading you along a clear and straight path through the forest, although you had not noticed the path before. 

The rosy glow of the eastern sky deepens and shifts to soft coral pink and brilliant orange.  A flock of geese fly overhead.  They honk urgently as they sail through the flaming sky. You can feel yourself beginning to warm as you move swiftly down the path towards the growing light.  You can see that the rabbit has stopped ahead in a bright clearing. 

As you enter the clearing you are amazed to see a lake of fire flowing by it.  Bright tongues of flame lick the bank like waves, and molten lava mixes with pure fire along the shores of this mysterious lake.  The rabbit dashes along the riverbank and stops to look back at you, drawing your attention to a small boat tethered to the shore.

You approach the boat and notice a robed and hooded boatman within.  His face is hidden in the shadows of his hood, but he stretches forth a pale bony hand towards you.  You reach into your crane bag and pull forth a gold coin.  On the face of the coin is the profile of a beautiful and merry lady with ornately braided hair.  On its reverse is a lantern and two crossed brooms.

You place the coin into the boatman's skeletal hand and climb into the boat.  The boatman pushes off and begins to row you eastward through the lake of fire.  The heat of the lake is immense, but also comforting.  You realize that this heat is the warmth of spring.  It is the heat that melts snows and encourages tender plants to grow.  The light of the lake is intense, but also beautiful.  You understand that this light is the light of the sun at dawn.  It paints the sky in brilliant shades of orange, rose, and crimson. 

Through the waves of heat ahead of the boat you notice an island.  On the island is a gleaming golden castle.  The castle shines in the light of the fiery lake.  It is constructed of solid gold set with yellow topaz and its many turrets are festooned with banners and flags of every color.  As you near the shore you can hear joyful music and laughter pouring forth from the castle.

The boat is now ashore on this merry island.  You climb out of the boat and as you set your feet upon the island you notice that they feel very light, as if imbued with natural grace.  You feel warmth and joy flowing upwards from the land to your heart and all of your being is infused with comfort and contentment.  The scent of a warm savory feast greets your nose, and lingers there with the smells of frankincense and amber.  You smile widely and warmly.  

The immense golden doors of the castle open to you, revealing a shining hall filled with laughter and song.  The golden hall is draped with banners of many colors, and in it is an impossibly long table of birch.  Seated at this table are heroes of myth and legend.  Cuchulain feasts on roasted meat and golden mead while Odysseus and Finn MacCool laughingly trade boasts and riddles.  Hercules drinks deeply of the toast that Boudica proclaims in honor of a song Orpheus has just sung.  From beside him Taliesin smiles at you and waves you over.  “We've been expecting you,” he says merrily.  You ask him where you are and he replies, “There are many names for this place.  Some call it Valhalla.  Others call it Hell.  I call it the Castle of Revelry.  It is the home of Queen Hulda and her golden lantern.” 

Taliesin points to a set of double doors near you.  The doors are solid gold and covered in countless finely sculpted symbols.  Among these you notice a goose and a broom.  You move to touch the doors and they swing open at your gesture. 

The room inside is bathed in brilliant white light.  It blinds your vision for a moment, and when your eyes adjust you see a pale and beautiful woman with elaborately braided red hair.  She is seated on throne of solid topaz and she wears a dress of gold.  Her eyes are the color of amber flecked with gold and she is smiling warmly at you.  To her right is a table with an object upon it that shines so brightly you cannot bear to look directly upon it.  To her left is a broom with an intricately carved handle and a brush of birch twigs. 

“I am called Hulda” she says.  Her voice is a mixture of sultry, dusky alto and the tinkling of tiny brass bells.  You can taste warm honey in your mouth when she speaks.  The scent of frankincense and cinnamon fills your nostrils.  Your entire being is infused with radiant heat and you feel slightly dizzy. 

She smiles more deeply and gestures to the shining object to her right.  “This is the treasure of Castle of Revelry.”  At her words your eyes adjust to its radiance and you can see that it is a golden lantern.   Its light shines the semblance of pictures, stories, and riddles on the golden walls of the room.  Your head fills with music and poetry as you look at its light. 

Hulda laughs.  Her laugh is intoxicating and you can feel your head swimming in confusion and wonder.  Hulda leans forward on her throne and captures your gaze. “I have a message for you,” she says.  She takes your hand and whispers her secret message in your ear.

Hulda bids you farewell and kisses your cheek.  Your flesh stings at the hot touch of her lips.  The lantern beside her brightens like the white hot sun and you begin to sweat.  You take your leave of the room hastily, disoriented by the heat and light.

Back in the great hall heroes continue to feast boisterously.  Two yellow haired Valkyries gently take you by the arms and lead you through the hall.  Taliesin winks at you as you pass by.  The Valkyries escort you out the door of the Castle and into the boat you arrived in. They pay the boatman a gold token and you drift swiftly back across the lake of fire to the gray-skied birch forest.  Geese honk in the distance. At the shore of the gray spring land is the start of a footpath, the same straight path that the rabbit first lead you down.  You follow the path back through the birch forest, past the thicket and the paperwhite narcissus, back to the place where you awoke.  You lay down in the cool, damp springtime forest and rest. 

Meditation: Visiting the Holly King, Janicot

Our tradition uses guided meditation to help impress certain symbols on our member's consciousness. Below is our Yuletide meditation. It takes place in the Glass Castle, which is the northwest area of our compass.  It is the home of the Holly King, who we honor as Janicot.  To use this meditation let yourself relax comfortably and picture yourself drifting downward and inward to the third realm, the lower realm. The third realm is a place of darkness and mystery.  Let yourself sink down into the third realm and rest there peacefully.

Meditation: Visiting the Holly King, Janicot

You awake in a grove of holly trees at night.  Frost has made the ground around you hard, and sparse snowflakes drift silently through the air.  A full moon illuminates the grove and causes the frosty earth to look as if it were made of glass.  It is cold enough to see your breath fog the air. Other than the sound of the frosty forest floor crunching beneath your feet the grove is entirely silent. 

Despite the chill and silence you are certain that you can feel something watching you.  You are startled to make out the shape of a large black goat silently standing between two holly trees near you.  The goat watches you, motionless, except for the steady rhythm of breath.  As he stares into your eyes you feel that you can hear his thoughts.  The goat claims he has something important to show you.  He moves towards you slowly and turns so that his side is facing you.  He then asks you to climb on his back for a ride.  You do this, silently and carefully. 

When you are situated comfortably on the goat's back he begins to walk.  Slowly at first he plods through the stands of holly, then trotting faster as the forest clears.  Now through an icy meadow he runs at a full gallop.  The cold wind whips at your clothing and snowflakes sting your cheeks.  The goat charges faster still and ahead you can see the edge of a steep cliff.  You cling to the goat's shaggy hide as he leaps over the cliff's edge. 

You are surprised to discover that your steed is now flying.  Swiftly through the night air you ride atop the black goat.  He soars high above the holly trees.  Higher he climbs and faster too.  Into the snow clouds he flies, and across the mists above the clouds he carries you. 

Through the mist you can see a sparkling castle.  It appears to be made of glass or ice, and it shines like cut diamonds in the moonlight.  From its turrets hang banners of pale blue and white.  As you approach the castle you can hear the sound of a choir singing softly from within. 

The goat alights on a snowy bank near the great mirrored castle doors.  He says that he will wait for you outside.  You ask him what place this is and he answers, “There are many names for this place.  Some call it Merlin's Tomb.  Others call it the Fata Morgana.  I call it the Castle of Glass.  It is the home of King Janicot and his glass orb.” 

The doors of the castle fly open suddenly and reveal a glass staircase within.  You enter the castle and climb the staircase.  You are surprised to find that although the staircase is very long the climb is an easy one, as though you were floating.  Yet, as you reach the top of the stairs you find that you are suddenly gasping for breath. 

In front of you are two large intricately carved doors of glass covered in countless symbols. Among these you notice a wren and a goat. You move to touch the doors and they swing open at your gesture.

The room inside twinkles with pale icy light. In it you see a cloven-hoofed man with a long black beard and a crown of goat horns. He is seated on throne of glass and he wears fur hides. His eyes are dark and he regards you with a cool countenance. To his right is a table with a large glass orb hovering over it. To his left is a staff of holly bearing leaves, and berries. “I am called Janicot” he says. His voice is soft and low like thunder in the distance. You can feel your body chill when he speaks. The scent of pine and mint fills your nostrils. Your entire being is infused with piercing coolness and you feel shocked into alertness.

He smiles knowingly and gestures to the glass orb to his right. “This is the treasure of the Glass Castle.” You peer into the glass orb and can see a mist swirling within it. From the mist come shapes and symbols, some from your past, some from your present, and some from your future. The symbols evoke feelings of joy, wonder, sadness, desire, heartbreak, and deep love.

The symbols swirl faster in the mist, causing you to feel overwhelmed with emotion. Janicot laughs. His laugh is jarring and you can feel your mind spinning into multiverses you dared not dream of. Janicot steadies you with a sharp glance. “I have a message for you,” he says.  He leans forward and whispers his secret message in your ear. [long pause] 

Janicot bids you farewell and shakes your hand.  Your flesh stings at his frigid touch.  The room begins to fill with mist and you take your leave of it hastily.  You hurry down the glass staircase and through the mirrored doors.  The black goat waits for you on the snowy bank.  You climb aboard his back and he launches into the air, accompanied by a flock of small brown birds.  They are wrens, you realize, as you soar back across the misty moat.  The black goat flies you beneath the snow clouds and down over the tops of the stands of holly.  He lands gently in the same grove of holly trees where you first met.  You settle in beneath a large holly tree and rest.

Meditation: Visiting the Silver Queen, Cerridwen

Our tradition uses guided meditation to help impress certain symbols on our member's consciousness. Below is our Autumn Equinox meditation. It takes place in the Castle Perilous, which is the southwest area of our compass.  It is the home of the Silver Queen, who we honor as Cerridwen.  To use this meditation let yourself relax comfortably and picture yourself drifting downward and inward to the third realm, the lower realm. The third realm is a place of darkness and mystery.  Let yourself sink down into the third realm and rest there peacefully.

Meditation: Visiting the Silver Queen, Cerridwen

Artwork by Thalia Took

You awake in a cool thicket at twilight.  You notice that beneath you is a thick clump of ivy, which you haven been using as a bed.  The trees of the thicket are in autumn array.  Their leaves are scarlet, golden, russet, and brown, but seem gray, violet, and black in the fading light of sunset.

You notice that the thicket borders a field of grapes to the west.  In the western sky is a reddish violet glow.  You hear the keen of a hawk cut clearly through the dusk.

You walk into the vineyard, plucking ripe grapes from the vines and eating them.  Although the evening is cool, the grapes have held the warmth of day and their warm tart juice seems like blood in your mouth.

You hear a rough noise from within a stand of grapevine.  Suddenly an enormous boar leaps in front of you.  It snorts violently and bears its tusks.  You turn in fear and try to escape the beast, but you are hedged in by twisted vines and tangling ivy.

The boar charges at you, flinging spittle and rolling its eyes wildly.  Its tusk catches your ankle just above the heel. Your ankle throbs in pain at the gash. The boar flails its head around, tossing you into the air.  You land astride the massive boar and in a panic grab its tusks with your fists.  The boar bucks attempting to toss you from its back, but you are firmly planted.

The boar runs westward with you upon it still clinging to its tusks.  The scent of the beast assaults your nose.  The wound in your ankle is deep.  Blood runs down the side of the boar as it rushes onward towards the setting sun.  The jostling movement of the boar, the pain of your wound, and rapid blood loss make you feel disoriented.

On the horizon you see a dark lake.  The boar continues its frenzied charge into the dark lake.  You are now riding through the lake on the back of the swimming boar.  The lake is warm and dark, like the warm dark blood that flows from your ankle.  It reflects the violet-red of the setting sky above, making it appear to be made of blood.  You realize then that this is no illusion of light. The lake itself is a lake of blood.

The bitter metallic scent of blood fills your nostrils as the boar charges onward towards an island.  On the island is a castle of dark stone.  The castle is embellished with silver and rubies, and from its turrets fly banners of crimson.  As you reach the shore of black sand, you can hear wailing from within the walls of the castle.

The boar stops at the shoreline and gives a loud snort.  You climb off of the boar carefully, nursing your wounded ankle.  The boar regards you for a moment and then rushes back into the lake of blood, leaving you behind on the dark island.  You wonder aloud what place this is, and from the shoreline comes a low and melancholy reply, “This is a place with many names.  Some call it the Grail Chapel. Others call it the Well of Souls.  I call it the Castle Perilous.  It is the home of Queen Cerridwen and her silver cup.”

You turn to see a darkly robed and hooded figure standing in a boat at the shoreline.  The boatman's face is hidden in the shadows of his hood, but he stretches forth a pale bony finger to point at the great doors of the castle.  The doors open slowly with a creaking noise, and the smell of myrrh and moss meets your nose.  You enter the castle and the doors slam shut behind you.

Sounds of dripping cave water and distant wailing fill the air.  You shudder to find that what you thought were rubies studding the walls are actually drops of blood, so that the walls appear to be bleeding.  It is damp and cold here, and the sound of your shuffling feet echo through the dark halls.  Your ankle throbs in pain from the boar's wound.  You are filled with dull and nameless despair, yet you shuffle forward.

At the end of a long dark hall are two large silver doors covered in countless finely sculpted symbols.  Among these you notice a sow and a cauldron.  You move to touch the doors and they swing open at your gesture.

The room inside is bathed in soft silver moon light.  In it you see an aged and beautiful woman with long gray hair.  She is seated on throne of silver and she wears a dress of black.  Her eyes are the color of the stormy sea and she offers you a knowing smile.  To her right is a table with glowing silver cup upon it. The light of the room seems to be coming from this cup.  To her left is a large iron cauldron adorned with a silver ivy and vine design.  “I am called Cerridwen” she says.  Her voice is a deep and rhythmic like the pounding of waves against the shore.  You can taste salt in your mouth when she speaks.  The scent of myrrh and cypress fills your nostrils.  Your entire being is infused with rushing coolness and you feel slightly dizzy.

She nods at you and gestures to the silver cup to her right.  “This is the treasure of Castle Perilous.”  At her words the cup floats from the altar towards you.   It rests against your lips and tips its vintage into your mouth.  You drink deep of its contents.  You can feel the wound in your ankle knitting closed, and all other pains and illnesses being cured and healed within you.  Power seems to vibrate from the base of your spine up through the crown of your head.  You tremble at the sensation of vitality and power that has infused your being.

Cerridwen fixes her gaze upon you and leans forward from her throne.  Her eyes are like sacred wells.  You feel that you may faint from the overwhelming flood of power in and around you. “I have a message for you,” she says.  She takes the cup from your lips and whispers her secret message in your ear. [long pause]

Cerridwen bids you farewell and touches your forehead.  You shiver at the cool dampness of her touch.  The cauldron beside her begins to boil.  You take your leave of the room hastily, disoriented by the power still coursing through you.

The hall is dank and still filled with distant wailing, but you understand now that it is not just the wailing of despair and sacrifice, but also of labor and infancy.  On the black shore the boatman waits with an outstretched bony hand.  You reach into your crane skin bag and retrieve a silver coin.  On its face is the profile of Cerridwen.  On its reverse is a boar leaping from a cauldron.  You place the coin into the boatman's skeletal hand and climb into the boat.

The boatman pushes off and begins to row you back through the dark lake of blood.  A hawk cries out as it circles over the barge. At the shore you can easily find the path that the boar created when it violently carried you off earlier.  You trace the path back through the vineyard and into the autumn thicket where you began.  There in the thicket is the patch of ivy you had made into your bed.  You lay down on the ivy and rest.

The Eight Ways of Making Magic

Symbol for the Eight Ways of Making Magic

In the Gardnerian tradition of witchcraft (Wicca) there are said to be eight ways of raising power for magical purposes.  They are as follows.

1. Meditation or concentration
2. Chants, Spells, Invocations.
3. Projection of the Astral Body, or Trance
4. Incense, Drugs, Wine, etc.
5. Dancing
6. Use of the Cords
7. The Scourge
8. The Great Rite

You can combine many of these ways to produce more power.

To succeed in magic it is said you need the following five things:

1. Intention. You must have the absolute will to succeed, the firm belief that you can do so and the determination to win through against all obstacles.
2. Preparation. You must be properly prepared.
3. Invocation. The Mighty Ones must be invoked.
4. Consecration. The Circle must be properly cast and consecrated and you must have properly consecrated tools.
5. Purification. You must be purified.

Note that just as there are eight ways of making magic, so are there eight sabbats in the wheel of the year, and just as there are five steps to magical success, so are there five points on the pentagram.  Eight and five are reoccurring sacred numbers in the Craft, and eight times five is forty, a number used in many magical applications.  For example, the scourge is often used in counts of forty.

Although I was trained and raised in a Gardnerian coven, and I value the insights and experiences I gained there I am now walking a different crooked path.  Let's analyze the eight ways of making magic and the five steps to success from an AFW point of view.

Fachan

1. Meditation or concentration
Concentration on a subject is the most basic form of raising and sending energy.  The evil eye is nothing more than negative thoughts clarified through intent and projected through the sense of sight. Meditation is a deeper form of concentration, and can be enhanced through specific postures and gestures.  These postures can be compared to eastern yogic traditions although they have roots in Celtic forms of magic, such as the one-legged one-eyed stance which emulates the posture of the crane and the fachan for battle magic.  Fergus Kelly in The Guide To Early Irish Law makes a statement that helps define it as a magic that kills. Kelly writes:

"...some of their sorcery was effected through córrguinech, a term which seems to mean 'heron (or crane) killing', and apparently involved the recitation of a satire standing on one leg with one arm raised and one eye shut."

2. Chants, Spells, Invocations
This way of raising energy encompasses many different techniques, all of which have to do with the spoken word.  Chanting is the original idea behind "enchantment".  The words of a chant can reinforce the intent of the magic, or they can be seemingly nonsensical words with traditional meaning.  An example of this kind of chant is the popular so-called "Basque Witches Chant".

Eko, eko, Azarak

Eko, eko, Zomelak

Bazabi lacha bachabe

Lamac cahi achababe

Karrellyos

Lamac lamac Bachalyas

Cabahagy sabalyos

Baryolos

Lagoz atha cabyolas

Samahac atha famolas

Hurrahya!

Spells, just as they sound, were once written or "spelled" documents detailing the results desired. This form of magic was especially popular in ancient Rome, when "spells" would be written on lead tablets and given to one of the elements. (burning, tossing into water, burying, etc.)  Nowadays a spell is any set of actions that brings about change through an act of magic.  They often utilize components with specific correspondences to the desired outcome.  Hoodoo uses its own traditional recipes and spell components to work magic. 

Invocation is a special kind of vocalization used to invite the presence of the Old Ones.  Also included in this is the concept of evocation.  Invocation is the inviting of a spirit into oneself. Evocation is the inviting of a spirit to be present in local space.  Invocation is a carefully learned skill in many traditions.  It demands trust and an understanding of the other realms.  The spirits that we work with in our tradition are ancient and powerful.  Safety and discipline are paramount during an invocation.

3. Projection of the Astral Body, or Trance

Projection of the astral body is a technique taught in several ways in our tradition.  One can "fly" out on a broomstick or other gandreigh by use of an ointment, potion, or shamanic training.  The fetch is an etheric construct used for projecting the astral body into that it may wander in that form.

In truth, all of the ways of making magic seek to bring the magician into a form of trance, even if it is very light.  Through trance we perceive other realms and can manipulate the energy links that connect all things as one. Drumming and guided meditation are two ways that trance can a achieved. Many of the following ways of making magic also assist in achieving trance.

Amanita Muscaria

4. Incense, Drugs, Wine, etc.
Entheogens have a long and storied history in the Craft, particularly the Solanaceae. They have been used in flying ointments, transformation elixirs, herbal incenses, smokes, anointing oils, washes, and any mixture you can think of.  Also popular in certain circles are amanita muscaria, wormwood, damiana, hashish, syrian rue, and countless others. Wine, of course, is central to the Red Meal, and also serves as a gentle way to let slip our egos and find ourselves outside of consensus reality when used in moderation.  All of these substances are dangerous, and several of them are also illegal.  This is certainly one of the ways of magic that should not be attempted by the untrained witch.

5. Dancing
Dancing may be the oldest form of celebration and communication.  It is central of the raising of power through the treading of the mill.  The mill is tread by moving widdershins with a lamed step over ground where the compass has been laid.  More vigorous treading of the mill can happen in large groups where the spiral is danced inward and outward in a kind of follow-the-leader procession.  Dancing in circles around a bonfire is an ancient and pan-cultural tradition.  This form of raising power can be witnessed at many sabbats and festivals around the world.

Warricking in preparation for scourging

6. Use of the Cords
7.  The Scourge
These, also known as warricking and stropping, are often used in combination to produce the desired trance state.  The cords are used to slightly restrict blood flow to certain areas of the body while the person being bound is made to stand or sit in uncomfortable positions also used to restrict circulation.

The cords are also used in knot magic, and as a symbol for the magical link.  Through the contemplation of certain knots, plaits, and other features of the cord a trance state can be achieved much like in the use of a rosary or prayer beads.

The scourge is used almost always in a light stroking motion to encourage blood flow into certain areas.  Only in extreme circumstances is the scourge used in anger or with force. Light, rhythmic application of the scourge can produce trance just as would a steady drumbeat, or the use of the lamed step.

8. The Great Rite
The Great Rite in full is the act of sexual congress between two individuals who have each invoked a God or Goddess.  Another term for this act is the hieros gamos. What Gardner was actually getting at by including this as one of the ways of making magic was the ideal of sexual energy being used as a conduit for magic.  Anyone can do this, partnered or not, invoked or not. It is quite popular in modern chaos magic circles, particularly those influenced by the work of A.O. Spare.  In our tradition we refer to the use of sex magic as drewery.

Meditation: Visiting the Oak King Cernunnos

 Our tradition uses guided meditation to help impress certain symbols on our member's consciousness. Below is our Midsummer meditation. It takes place in the Castle of Stone, which is the southeast area of our compass.  It is the home of the Oak King, who we honor as Cernunnos.  To use this meditation let yourself relax comfortably and picture yourself drifting downward and inward to the third realm, the lower realm. Briefly, the three realms are Sky above (first realm), Land around (second realm), and Sea below (third realm).  The third realm is a place of darkness and mystery.  Let yourself sink down into the third realm and rest there peacefully.

Meditation: Visiting the Oak King Cernunnos

You awake in a forest of oak trees at midday.  Red breasted robins sing from the trees, and the forest is green with the radiance of nature in summertime.

A rustling from behind you causes you to turn around quickly.  Only a few yards from you is a magnificent stag.  His antlers are as broad as your arms when fully outstretched.  His hide is rich russet.  He bears seven tines on each antler.

The stag gives you a loud snort and tosses his head.    You are consumed with a desire to capture this roebuck, and as if it knew what you were thinking, the stag suddenly bolts away from you.  You give chase.  You run through the oak forest as quickly as any deer could, bounding over creeks and fallen trees.  You can see the stag ahead of you, and you keep pace behind him.  You run at full tilt past mighty oak trees that dwarf you and your quarry.

The stag clears the forest ahead of you and enters a green grass field.  You follow behind him.  He disappears into a huge sloping green valley, and still you rush down the slope after him.  Although your focus remains on chasing the stag, you notice that the valley seems to be constructed like a massive ancient earthwork.  In the center of the valley rises a high grassy hill and upon this hill appears to be a stone fort of some kind.  The stag pauses briefly at the base of the great hill and then bounds up it.

You reach the base of the hill and are momentarily daunted by its steepness and height.  Yet you find force of will to begin the climb upwards.  Up the hill you climb, your legs scrambling.  Up the hill of grass, your fingers struggling to find holds in the emerald green turf.  Up to the top of the earthwork mound, your arms aching from pulling along the weight of your body.

Although you are nearly exhausted you have reached the top of the hill.  You do not see the stag but you notice that you are near a set of enormous oaken doors.  The doors are the entrance to a massive fort of gray stone.  The fort's turrets are adorned with the standards of warriors and kings.  From within the fort you can hear sounds of steel clashing and voices yelling commands.

You approach the doors and knock, but they remain closed to you.  To your side you hear a snort.  It is the stag.  He walks up to the oak doors and touches them with his antlers.  The doors open with a wooden thud.

Within the fort is a field where thousands of warriors from myth and legend are training for battle.  Achilles wrestles with Lancelot as Parzival and Sigurd cross steel.  Spartans train next to samurai.  You watch as Scathac demonstrates for Hector how she wields a spear.  A voice from behind addresses you.  You turn to see it is the Arthurian knight Sir Gawain.  “We've been expecting you,” he says gravely.  You ask him where you are and he replies, “There are many names for this place.  Some call it Troy Town.  Others call it Camelot.  I call it the Castle of Stone.  It is the home of King Cernunnos and his stone bowl.”

Gawain points to a set of double doors across the field.  The doors are of oak intricately carved with countless symbols.  Among these you notice a stag and a robin.  You move to touch the doors and they swing open at your gesture.

Inside the room is a tan and muscular man with thick brown hair.  He wears a crown of antlers.  He is seated on a throne of stone and he wears tanned leather and a green cloak.  His eyes are as green as emeralds and he is smiling broadly at you.  To his right is a table with a stone saucer on it.  To his left is a staff of oak bearing leaves, catkins, and acorns.

“I am called Cernunnos” he says.  His voice is deep and musical and reminds you of the sounds of animals.  You can feel your pulse quicken as he speaks.  The scent of moss and musk fills your nostrils.  Your eyes widen in wonder as you realize that his antlered crown isn't really a crown at all.  He has antlers as broad and majestic as the stag you chased to this place.

His eyes sparkle as he gestures to the stone saucer to his right.  “This is the treasure of the Stone Castle.” You approach the bowl and peer into it.  Inside of the bowl it is very black.  There are three stones and a silver spiral floating in the darkness.  The stones roll in circles as the spiral spins and shifts.  They create patterns and symbols that you understand are related to the pattern of your life.  Peering deeper into the blackness of the bowl you are filled with wisdom and peace.  In the bowl you begin to perceive the purpose of your life's journey and the path you must take to accomplish your destiny.

The symbols shift further, making your head spin in wonder.  Cernunnos chuckles knowingly. His laugh is deep and rolling. You can feel it envelop you like the  shade of a great and ancient forest.  Cernunnos set his hand on your shoulder to steady you. “I have a message for you,” he says.  He leans forward and whispers his secret message in your ear. [long pause]

Cernunnos bids you farewell.  He and shakes your hand and claps you to his chest.  He is warm and smells of musk and loam.  Around you the room seems to fill with foliage.  Leave it hastily, hurrying past the field where warriors are training.  Gawain salutes you as you pass.  Beyond the oaken doors of the fort awaits the great stag that lead you here.  He now regards you with a knowing respect. You follow him as he runs down the great hill and into the valley.  He waits for you to catch up to him, glancing behind.  You enter with him into the oak forest .  The stag leaves you in an oak grove with the midday sun shining upon you.  You settle in beneath a large oak tree and rest.