Content Notice: rape (attempted)
I wasn’t always a witch. Or a feminist. I lived a sheltered life as a child. We weren’t rich by any means. My parents struggled, sacrificed, and worked long hours to give us the things they never had. I took swimming lessons and learned to play violin, was a Girl Guide, and joined summer sports teams. But we lived in a small town and then a farm, a place that felt far away from the harsh realities of war and famine. No matter how many times my parents told me, “Life isn’t fair!” I never stopped believing that it should be.
Read more at http://www.ravishly.com/2017/02/24/finding-and-losing-pagan-community-through-activism
Ravishly, where we celebrate the mess of being human. A community for sharing what makes us tick, what ticks us off, plus pictures of our dogs (or cats – inclusivity is important). We laugh. We cry. We do it all together.
“I’m tired of being the better person,” I whined into the phone to my mother. Read More
Once, as a child, I remember waking up in a power outage. My room, bereft of the street light filtering in through the tiny basement window, was the darkest I had ever seen. Read More
This holiday season is supposed to be one where witches get to come out to play. But around the world, many real witches are still hiding in the broom closet. In Canada, the number of people who openly identify with a pagan faith has been steadily on the rise. Read More
If you are trying to practice more yoga off the mat, non-violence is the place to start.
When most of us think about yoga we typically picture flexible bodies performing a series of poses, striving to reach new physical achievements. But how often do we consider how yoga can offer us a more flexible mind, or reaching new heights of spiritual experience?
The rules and regulations of Wicca have always felt foreign to me, even as an eager sixteen-year-old babywitch devouring every new age book I could get my hands on and trying desperately to find a path I could call my own. Read More
It’s 100 degrees and the sweat is pouring. Outside the hall, the sun is beating down on the high, thatched-palm roof. Though we are perched high on a cliff overlooking the ocean, the sea breeze doesn’t penetrate the screens keeping the mosquitoes at bay. Read More
I’m sitting at a bus stop on the side of a busy city street, having stumbled from the mall into the sunlight, head in my hands. I’m hungry, stressed out, stiff and sore, but mostly I’m overwhelmed. I just want to crawl back to my couch and hide behind my computer.