This weeks goal in the Magical Battle of America was to go to the astral center — seeing it as night-time — and more of less call a dawning. A dawning of sunny warmth, hope, cooperation, and recreation of America. Glad Hekate is my ally with some lit torches is all I can say about that.
My first start was to pause at NW “home” to briefly consider leaping steelhead, heading upstream to breed and continue the thread of their lives. Salmon spawn and die. We want magic and life, bread and roses, don’t we? Then, I turned to “walk” to the Plains “center” as HecateDemeter envisions it — with a pentagram overhead and banners at each point connoting the different main regions of the continental USA.
I didn’t walk, though. I turned and suddenly shot to center like an animated piece on a special effects chessboard…leaving a colored, fading shadow of myself where I had been mere instants before. The blue-white horizontal pentagram over head dripped down lighted spangles like luminescent icicles.
I sat down on the roof of my sod house, shut my eyes and listened to the wind in the five banners; for me yellow at Nor’East, green at Southeast, red at Southwest, blue in Nor’west, and dazzling WHITE in the North – no black, no checkering, it felt white this time. I sat waiting to feel a touch of dawning warmth. Cracking an eyelid showed me only cascades falling from the five pointed star overhead — like sparks from a welder’s torch. I could not glimpse or summon a dawning.
So I shut my eyes and thought, very hard, over and over:
“Wouldn’t it feel good again to be truly, really proud to be an American?”
“Wouldn’t it feel good to wipe away the shame?”
“Wouldn’t love and caring and sharing feel delightful and warm and good?”
I felt a sudden sexual rush, a bit of warmth of unexpected source. But one I know means something right is happening. Maybe later efforts this week will see a dawn yet?