Saturday, July 4, 2015

The Ocelot's Final Word On Gardnerian Practice.

Don't tell me my trad doesn't have moments of wild communion with our Gods.

We were keeping the full moon, tonight, and so graced with the Presence of the divine that Husband is now dead asleep in the bedroom.

Cats under the altar. Rednecks outside with fireworks. Frankincense and myrrh competing with the smell of dog. But here, in this most humble of temples, this most profane of holy places, we knew our Gods. Ecstatically, totally, joyfully. We got some major gnosis.

There's a reason for orthopraxy, babies. A set form means They can come through like water; when you don't have to think about how, you get the full killer heaven rush of why.

And now, time for bed.

2 comments:

  1. I would hope every Witch (or whatever) would be having this experience, (isn't that why we are here?) but too many seem focused on arguing about things on the internet and posting pretty pictures. I'm as guilty of those two things as anyone, and my personal woo suffered for it.

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