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This working requires a sacrifice. Give to a local group engaged in the work of social justice, either by volunteering or by supporting them financially.

Call upon your Mighty Dead to support the work.

Acquire an image of the Lady of Liberty to place on your working altar. This can be in a public place, like your work place.

Offer the litany to her regularly, and any other offerings you feel called to give.

LITANY OF FREEDOM

Liberty, Lady, Mother of Redemption;
Mother of Exiles;
Mother of Eagles;
To you and, through you, to the Dark Mother of the Heavens and the Earth…

Come to me

We ask for the light of your lamp to heal us and fill our hearts with grace.
Let there be freedom,

Come to me

Let our sisters be free to live safely, in public and in private!
Let our sisters be free to choose what happens to their own bodies!
Let our sisters and brothers of color be free to live in dignity and respect!

Come to me

Let our Trans brothers and sisters be free to live authentically!
Let our gay and bi sisters and brothers be free to live authentically!
Let our gay and bi sisters and brothers be free to love openly whomever their hearts are drawn to!

Come to me

Let our sisters and brothers of indigenous birth be free to live in peace and health upon their ancestral and sacred lands!
Let us all be free to speak and create and express as Spirit moves us!
Let us all be free to enjoy the fruits of prosperity and our own labor and right livelihood!

Come to me

Let us all be free to enjoy and honor clean soil, water and air!
Let us all be free to live in peace!

Come to me

Let us all be free to honor and be honored because, and not despite of, our respectful differences!
Let us all be free to unite for our common well being!

Come to me

Let us all be free to join together in resistance to those who would abuse us!
Let us be free to follow the path of beauty and bliss!
Let us all be free of the fears that bind us from our deepest aspirations!
Let us all be free from deception and oppression, and the systems that support them!
Let us be free of the chains even in our own minds and hearts!

Come to me

Let us be free to build anew and better for ourselves and our communities!
Let us be free to speak truth to power!

Come to me

Lady, By your crown,
let those who would abuse us or our loved ones be stripped of their claims to power!

By your lamp,
bring their words and deeds to light, and to the notice of the world!

By your book,
never allow the misdeeds of tyrants to be forgotten, nor the lessons of history fail to inform present events!

Let us be free

Consider placing her image upon the words of her poem:

“Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she
With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

You can add the creation of a (resealable)cursing bottle, filled with images of the appropriate politicians and organizations, and inscribed with this three part curse on the back:

“May God abandon you ; May knowledge forsake you ; May apathy claim you”

as well as thorns, needles, broken glass, and every manner of vile thing like rotting muck, poppy seeds, ghost peppers, what have you. Piss in it. Then drown it in liquor, and pour your own rage into it. Scream at it. Make them want to die. Work yourself into a frenzy. It might help to be drunk, or to pour your fury and frustration into a cup before the pouring that in the bottle. Then recap and seal it with wax and place it on the altar or hide it away somewhere. If the proverbial shit ever does really hit the fan, take it back out and work yourself into a frenzy again. Shake it and scream at it and name the afflictions you place upon them, focusing on things that will actually make things better and make them unable to carry out their atrocities. Then hurl it and cause it to shatter on an appropriate target, like a federal building, or bury it somewhere likewise appropriate.

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Black Dogs and the Wild Hunt

Episode 4 on the folklore podcast

Druidcast episode on the Black Dog

If curiosity spurred you toward us, go away. Those who walk unwary, who come without having been called, cannot place blame on others when they find themselves “immersed in that mighty ocean,” face to face with a terrifying truth that they did not know they were seeking.

David Metcalfe

the Urban Hedge

Living in Ireland is one thing, living in an American city quite another.  I find city magic different from the magic of the countryside.  I also find central Texas magic different from southern Irish magic.  This is common sense really, as there are different partners in the work.

The energy of the American city  I live within is one of motion, and literal energy generation.  Perhaps it is more like a stellar nursery, or star-forming region: a dense area of exotic cosmic brew.

I don’t work with the entire city.  I build relationship with the area I can –and regularly do– walk the bounds of.  Boundary walking, and tending, is the age-old habit of the witch.  It’s where we draw our power.  During the liminal times of day, it is easy to find the urban Hedge.  Within my own bounds, those are odd crossroads, where odd numbers of pathways or streets intersect.  Also, the alleyways.

In any Hedge crossing endeavor, caution is needed.  Persons of dubious nature are attracted to liminal spaces, and times.  Do not trust every Person you meet, corporeal or not!  Victor H. Anderson cautioned his students to make such journeys with their Lights on.  That is, have a strong and direct relationship with your own Godsoul, the ancestral spirit directly connected to you.

Also, test the spirits.

Just because some non-material dude chats you up, doesn’t mean you should give him your number.

During urban hedge crossing, I do not sit and trance.  I walk.  This is a skill I developed working with the Reclaiming Pagan Cluster, and learning to use my magic during direct action protest.  I also carry a protective talisman in my pocket, or on my person.  I set an intention, whether that be exploratory or specific.  These forays are not for entertainment.  They are for the purpose of accomplishing my will, and my work.

On Possession

The danger in possession is if you let alien beings in to use you — and there are plenty out there that will. They’ll split your personality. They’ll touch certain parts of your personality that you don’t even know you have. And then, you won’t be able to consciously remember when one takes over or when one doesn’t, even though it’s all you. That’s the danger of possession. Another danger is that they can come in with cruel and terrible ideas and infect you with them. Because when someone knocks at your door, and I’m not just speaking about spirits, don’t let them in unless you know who they are. You turn on the light first and that light is right above your head. — Victor Anderson, The Heart of the Initiate: Feri Lessons

God Herself

Boston Bloodrose Faery (Feri)

blackgoddess

Quakoralina, the Star Goddess

A lovely black woman is waiting, waiting
In the boundless night.
A river of blackbirds are mating, mating,
In the dim starlight.

Down out of the sky they come winging, winging,
Drawn to Her black flame,
And the melody they are singing, singing,
Is Her holy name.

In the dust of Her feet are the hosts of heaven,
And Her star-sequined hair
Is crowned with a coven of six and seven
Blue suns burning there.

—Victor Anderson

The expression God Herself could be called a Faery koan.  Victor once wrote in a letter that Lilith was honored by the Harpy Coven, to which he belonged in his early life, not as “the Goddess,” but as God Herself.   This is an important distinction.  In a letter to Anaar published in the book, The Heart of the Initiate, Victor clarified:

When we say “Goddess” in my tradition…

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Red Rite

Of all the strange and terrible powers among which we move unknowingly, sex is the most potent. Conceived in the orgasm of birth, we burst forth in agony and ecstasy from the Center of Creation. Time and again we return to that fountain, lose ourselves in the fires of being, unite for a moment with the eternal force and return renewed and refreshed as from a miraculous sacrament. Then, at the last, our life closes in the orgasm of death. Sex, typified as love, is at the heart of every mystery, at the center of every secret. It is this splendid and subtle serpent that twines about the cross and coils in the heart of the mystic rose. -Jack Parsons