Fire Burning in Water— Welcome to 2007!
Copyrighted by Lorna Tedder. Originally published in Third Degree of Contrast.
Happy 2007, everyone! I. Feel. [sigh.] WON-DERFUL.
I really should spend more time in ritual. It either makes me feel very…passionate…or very relaxed, as if I could just cuddle up in a lover’s arms or stretch in bed like a just-napped cat. Tonight, I’m more relaxed than passionate, which is probably a good thing. I’ll save passionate for when Aislinn isn’t underfoot.
The way I practice my religion is with as little guilt as possible, unlike the Southern Baptists I grew up with. In fact, if I have to feel guilty about anything, something’s wrong. But I’m not in a formal church setting every week to sit and listen without participation and I don’t necessarily connect with Deity in ritual when I’m “supposed” to. That’s what makes it special to me. Sort of like getting a gift just because rather than as part of an obligatory holiday. I think the best rituals, as far as raising energy and really feeling the presence of Deity all around, are the ones that aren’t planned for weeks or months in advance. They just…are.
I hadn’t planned a ritual for New Year’s Eve, but Aislinn ended up at my house and I felt enough disturbances in the Ether that it was starting to piss me off. I was unexpectedly depressed, angry, and anxious—all for no reason except it seemed to be in the air. New Year’s Eve is prime-time for looking back at the previous year and all that happened, and it can be an emotional time if someone isn’t happy with the results of the year. I know some people aren’t happy with me about 2006. I decided I didn’t want to carry that into my new year and I was going to do something about it.
My ritual tonight was a two-parter, with the first part being quite long. I used the same releasing ritual I used with Daddy a couple of weeks ago. With him, a lot of the candles went out for no obvious reason, so I didn’t know what to expect tonight.
The evening was cool with a lot of fog hanging in the air, like a fine mist. The candles did not want to light— fire in all that water.
One by one, I called forth those I needed to forgive and release and others I just needed to cut ties with. With each one, I felt lighter. Some of the clingier ones, I’d done this with already but they needed a second pruning.
The thing that always surprises me about this particular ritual is the form of ties different people have to me and how I perceive those ties. Some were simple nets or webs of spiderweb-thin cords. Some were silken scarves tied around my heart. Some were whips lashed around my ankles and waist. Some were actual booby-trap burlap nets you might use to capture a jungle cat. Some were loving, hugging arms. Some were, to my horror, blood and guts and intestines wrapping around me to hold on.
Some of these were simply let go, others were untied, and still others had to be severed with an Archangel’s sword. The fog turned into a heavy mist on my face as I released them in prayer.
And then they were done and left behind in the old year as fire continued to burn in water and the mist turned to a pelting rain, and I called in the blessings of the new year to take me forward into the future.