Recent Posts

Frozen River Song

Night between the trees Caressed by moonlight Stars speak to me of Where I am Not yet morning light My antlered guide Is Waiting here At the edge We are flying over ice The echoes cracking A new river Being born A man in furs […]

Pagan organizing: don’t sweat the ones that never show

Time and again I’ve listened to frustrated event organizers. “Our membership list has 200 people, but we only get 10 people to show up on a good day!” I have also seen them hack at this issue, demanding people commit to attendance, pay admission fees […]

Welsh Winter Traditions, Part 2: The Hunting of the Wren

The Hunting of the Wren – Hela’r Dryw – is a winter mumming custom practiced in Wales and other Celtic countries since at least the middle ages. There are two distinct phases of the practice: the hunt itself, and the subsequent parading of the captured […]

Here’s the taboo I’m breaking in 2019: talking about Pagans and how they (don’t) organize

It’s taken awhile for some clarity to coalesce with this blog. Sometimes the problem comes from my private life, other times from my fears of my own inadequacies. Finally a small vision has formed, one where I have something helpful to say: I am damn […]

A Night of Stars, A Morning Comes: Two Stories

There is a story that I have heard over and over again for so long I do not know of the first time I heard it. It is told in the winter when people gather together. It is told in the texts I studied as […]

Moderating a panel at a con

Not directly pagan related but definitely fits into my ‘running a con series’. Here is a set of resource links for you when you a mod on how to run a panel. SMOF Babe Wiscon Arisia Tips for Our Moderators Having skimmed John Ringo's 38 […]

Local Krampusnacht festivities

Modern, many Krampuses… Krampi? St. Nicholas with a megaphone. Is that a screaming child being offered as sacrifice? Served on the stroller platter of Olde.  

Feeling Uninspired?

It is inevitable…we wake up one day and we’re just not “feelin’ it”.  Our spirits are low, our bodies are exhausted, our energies seemingly nonexistent.  What do we do then?  We’re leaders.  Rituals need priestessing, classes need teaching, students need feedback, email needs answering.  At […]

The Place of the Legless

I am the descendant of many lines of ancestors who helped to form opposing sides of some of the most storied armed conflicts in their history. Both sides of the genocide carried out against the tribal peoples of this continent under the name of Manifest […]

Long time, no blog – a personal observation

Recently I’ve been purging the heaps of things I’ve acquired over the decades as an uncommon lack of sentimental attachment has engulfed me. It’s a bit unnerving to watch myself unceremoniously pitch items I felt I had to keep just 6 months ago. Along with […]


My Diary

The Stream By finnchuill

I’m sitting on a bench, happy that the stream that has been dry lately, except for a few diminishing pools, the last hideout for the frogs, has water again. I met this stream last year, just about a year ago, and since walk along the ‘streamside trail’ frequently. Walking is a druidic practice for me. The land by the stream slowly opens itself to me. Small naio trees form an open grove about me.

My thoughts open to this: place is a kind of gnosis. A place slowly coalesces around me, around my body on a bench, in and out of my mind, my breathing, my perceptions. The stream is variant, diverse, sometimes hugely full, flowing up through small side channels, even taking out the little bridge one time last summer. Other times, all polished boulders, small puddles. Everything is volcanic here, water can percolate down into the earth easily, but up in the mountains it rains a lot, sending more water down. Such simple things, but so often ignored, such small things the place reveals.