Lunaea Weatherstone's Blogue

Little luxuries

As I went to bed last night, I thought that today I would write a blogue entry about life's little luxuries, the things that make us feel prosperous and well taken care of when times are hard and money is tight. I wanted to write about the simple delight of stepping into a foamy pink bath made by using just half of an Enchantment bath bomb from Fantasy Bath, or the sweet warming goodness of a cup of Penzey's hot chocolate, made with vanilla sugar and dusted with nutmeg. And then I fell asleep and had a dream.

Spiritual Bath

One of our Silver Branch priestesses, Patience, is a big advocate of the Spiritual Bath, as taught by Rosita Arvigo (see her book Spiritual Bathing for more bath rituals from around the world). This is not a bath you immerse yourself in, but rather, an energy-cleanse that you do standing up with a bucket of water to which you have added fresh flowers and other plants (leaves, herbs, whatever feels right to you). Patience says that spiritual baths are good after a big shock, when you are depressed or sad, when you feel stuck and unmoving, when you feel the need for an outer cleanse, or when you are in need of inspiration. I made the intention at Beltane to do at least one a month, at full moon or new moon (that’s a picture of my Beltane bath, in my new pink bucket!). Since new moon is tomorrow, I thought you might like to join me. Here are the instructions, courtesy of Patience:

Desktop still-life

As I was pouring my mint tea just now, a shaft of sunlight illuminated the swirling steam and turned the tea to gold. I wanted to capture that magical beauty and reached for the camera, and the light disappeared. Ah well, I thought, and took a sip of the fragrant brew... and the sunlight came back. Pick up the camera, turn it on, aim, and.... sunlight is gone again. Okay, okay, I get it... live in the moment, don't try to make it something it isn't or catch and keep it. Drink your tea while it's hot. A wash of sunlight over the teacup. A quick snapshot. I didn't even see the phone or the keyboard until I uploaded the photo, and that's a good lesson too, in staying focused on what gives pleasure and delight. Fresh hot peppermint tea in a vintage English cup... morning light on an eggplant-purple teapot... a battered old library table I've worked at for 25 years... Elizabethan lute music playing softly, and the day emerging gently, and my heart quietly grateful.

The Blessings of Inconvenience

Once again, I am reminded of the multitude of blessings in my life that I take for granted every day. Today, it is water. Because of the rainstorms, my well water is temporarily not good for drinking right from the tap and must be boiled first. I don't have any bottled water on hand at the moment, so I'm boiling, cooling, bottling the water, and grumbling about it at first, I admit. But as I dipped my china cup into the silver pan of cooled clear water (so I could brush my teeth), I was humbly grateful for such a small inconvenience that points to the great blessing of water that usually comes so effortlessly and endlessly to me. I offered up a prayer for all those millions for whom water is never received thoughtlessly, for whom it is always a miracle and a blessing. As I sniffle through a rare cold, I offer a prayer for those who suffer with real illness. As I hurry back inside after getting drenched going down to take the garbage out, I give thanks for a shelter to keep me warm and dry and out of the rain, and offer a prayer for those who are cold and wet and never far from the garbage. It seems such a simple thing, but what could be more profound than to be grateful for what is given every day? Every single day.