Lunaea Weatherstone's Blogue

Yay for me, I'm 53!

They are probably going to kill me, but I really must post this adorable picture of some of my friends honoring me with a birthday cheer last night. Many thanks to Bryn, Beth, Julie, and Kat (pictured) and Laurie (the photographer) for a delightful evening, and special thanks to Beth for hostessing, balloons and all. Gimme an F! R! I! E! N! D! S!

Birthday musings

Many moons ago, my friend Wahaba did a psychic reading for me in which she identified my guardian angel -- not one angel, but two, actually. "Oh, these guys are hilarious," she said, chuckling. And indeed, over the years I've felt their humor on many occasions. Many of my life lessons have come through experiences that I just know my angelic companions found amusing, and it's part of the lesson for me to find the lightness and humor as well. One ongoing joke with them is apparently my birthday. Although I'm sure there have been birthdays when nothing awful happened, there have been far too many when something HAS. For instance, in 2004, I spent the whole day sitting by the phone waiting for news about my mother, who was taken to the hospital with what appeared to be a stroke. She was fighting lung cancer at the time and weakened from her treatment, so it was all too likely that she might die. She had called me earlier that morning and gotten my voice mail, and I listened to her singing "Happy Birthday" and wondered if that was the last time I would hear her voice. It wasn't, thank Goddess, but it was the last time she sang that for me. My next birthday, my 50th, was spent frantically rushing around getting ready to drive the 14-hour drive to my mother's house, where she was indeed dying. Given enough birthdays like this, you can't blame me for being a little nervous when September 2 rolls around!

Building bridges

You know I'm a big advocate of building bridges between faiths, so I just had to share this delightful discovery. I was browsing around looking at various retreat centers with an eye toward maybe taking a retreat this winter and found this on the website for St. Andrew's Abbey, a Benedictine monastery:

Harry Potter and Frodo Baggins on Betrayal and Redemption: Models of Repentance and Renewal in the Sagas of J.K. Rowling and J.R.R. Tolkien

In this workshop the Christian doctrine of redemption after failure and betrayal will be studied using characters and vignettes taken from The Return of the King and Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Special emphasis will be placed on Tolkien's description of Frodo's failure on Mount Doom and on Rowling's surprising redemption of such characters as Lucius and Draco Malfoy and Severus Snape.

Don't you love it? Next time you hear someone Christian-bashing and trying to lump them all into one group as narrow-minded killjoys, you can mention this and start a new, more positive discussion!

Time and time again

As you may know, in addition to my work as a teacher and priestess, I do a lot of editing, mostly of textbooks. In one of them, I found this lovely bit of legal-speak that set my mind to musing: Motions to extend or enlarge time. I want some of those motions! They are graceful, slow, sweeping motions, I would imagine. Symbolic gestures of expansion and cosmic timelessness, motions that slow things down so that it doesn't seem like the rushing world is pulling me along in its frantic wake. Motions that give me more time, extended time, enlarged time. Maybe that motion is as simple as... turning off the TV! Or rocking for a few moments in the rocking chair. Or picking up a pen instead of reaching for the keyboard. What motions can you make that will extend and enlarge your time?

Question of the Day

Can I still consider myself virtuous for shopping at the farmers' market if all I bought was fizzy bath bombs and chocolate chip cookies?

Green Porno

I absolutely adore Isabella Rossellini and have for many years. Her exquisite face, of course, first won my heart, but as she (and I) grew older and I learned more about her, I was even more charmed. For example, did you know that she trains service dogs for the blind? And I love how she has always refused to buy into the culture's obsession with youth, going public with her outrage when Lancome fired her for being too old, for example, when she was in her 40s and, by any standards, a great beauty. Now, in her mid-50s, she has channeled one of her passions, conservation, into some very strange and strangely adorable short films, called Green Porno. She wrote and directed and stars in the films, appearing as various insects describing how they procreate, such as the queen bee pictured here (my favorite is the firefly). I should warn you, some of these are a bit gross and, yes, even a bit pornographic, if you consider watching a middle-aged woman in a bug costume mating with a giant mantis to be pornographic. They are also quite funny, and Isabella is a delight. Her creativity, commitment, and willingness to be silly for a good cause make her one of my personal heroines.

P.S. Here is Isabella with David Letterman, talking about some of the things above. Thanks for alerting me to this appearance, Ellen-Mary! And by the way, Isabella's daughter shown in the Lancome ad is the baby in my Queen of Water tarot card!

Stress bunny

I was picking up a few necessities at the bead shop yesterday and ran into a woman who makes some very cool goose egg thingies that I've been wanting to learn how to make too. She gave me her card with her blog address, which led me to her Etsy page, which led me to STRESS BUNNY! Which I may have to get, just because it's so much fun to say "GET ME THE STRESS BUNNY!!" even if I am only saying it to the cats.  By the way, the bead shop is for sale, if it's always been your dream to run a little bead shop in Felton, California. I promise to be a loyal customer!

The ceremonial Now

As a priestess and teacher, I spend a lot of time talking about staying in the moment and making it sacred. Sometimes I find it challenging, as most of us do, to walk that talk. Lately, for example, I’ve been feeling waves of fearfulness and fretfulness coming over me, causing sleep problems, night weasels, hamster brain whirrrrrrring away nonstop. I see many small causes for this, but I’ve been looking for the One Big Thing that will make it clearer, help me get back in balance. I think it has to do with passion . . . passion and fun. Fun is a less profound word than joy, which is really what I mean, but looking for the fun is a good start. Passion and fun . . . and beauty. These are the things that put the sparkle back in my life, the glitter, if you will. So yesterday I went out to lunch with my friend Beth and afterwards I stopped in at the shop where my favorite mehndi artist practices her art. I meant to just say hello, but decided on the spur of the moment to have Rica do some henna on my hands, as a reminder of what I need (and intend) to change. On my left hand, she made a flowing vine with a crescent moon, for the feminine mysteries, the Goddess, love and flow and receptiveness. On my right hand, a geometrical Moroccan pattern of lines and triangles and dots, an empowering pattern for courage and action and self-determination. I could feel the energy changing as she worked, feel my spirit gently rocking back toward the center.

With the henna mud drying on my hands, I walked a bit on our crazy, wacky, downtown outdoor mall. There was the man in the lime-green face mask with the rhinestone boots, playing the accordion. There was the honky-tonk band outside the bookstore by the statue of Tom Scribner playing his musical saw. I love that my town put up a statue to a street musician. A toe-tapping crowd was smiling at a solitary dancer, a little girl in a sparkly lavender and green fairy dress and gold sandals, her curls bouncing and her expression seeming to say, “Why isn’t EVERYone dancing??” Inside the bookstore, the usual delightful Santa Cruz mix of students, crones, crunchy granola mommies, hipper-than-thou intellectuals and artists, and other colorful villagers. My tribe. When I went to the counter with my three magazines (Renaissance, The Believer, Cloth Paper Scissors), the checkout dude took my money and then said, “Have we had the bag discussion yet?” “No, let’s have it now,” I said, loving how my whole town tends to talk like a Joss Whedon script. (We decided I should have a bag.) Back home, I removed the henna so I could take a bath, and last night I slept straight through until morning, almost unheard of for me. The henna had bloomed with its eternal mystery, deepening to terra cotta as I slept. Mehndi is usually a ceremonial thing for me, for holy days or ritual use. Doing it on a regular Saturday, on a whim, made that day ceremonial for me. My eyes were opened to passion, and to fun, and to beauty. Today, I stuck a jeweled bindi on my forehead, even though I probably am not leaving the house today and am not expecting to see anyone. When I look in the mirror, I see it. I have declared this day, this moment, worthy of henna and of jewels. This is the ceremonial NOW. What will you do to celebrate it?

New rosaries are up!

There are about a dozen or so new Goddess rosaries posted on my website, and more will be coming over the next few days. Rosaries for Isis, Freya, Brigid, the Graces, Hecate, rosaries for invoking peace, hope, love, goodness... and more! Go take a look and see if any of them are calling your name. Those of you who have ordered custom rosaries, I haven't forgotten you! There's a batch of amulets in the works now with yours among them.

Peculiar Aristocratic Title

I usually keep this kind of nonsense to myself, but this one is just too much fun.

My Peculiar Aristocratic Title is: Milady the Right Reverend Lunaea the Mystical of Westley Waterless Get your Peculiar Aristocratic Title