My great grandmother kept a fairy path clear on the property her entire life. She put milk and crumbs out for the fairies every evening, and once, notoriously in my family, made my very-Type-A grandfather move his then perfectly levelled camper because he’d parked it on a fairy circle. My great grandmother was a brilliant woman, and introduced me at a very young age to those things you know are there but cannot ‘see’. She also taught me to respect them- and to beware the fact that relationships with fairies can turn sour and need constant nurturing. I’ve since learned that all relationships need constant nurturing, and none less than my pixie-styled muse. Basically, this blog exists because of the following:
Muse: “You know, Elizabeth, you’ve been working on these community contributions for a while now. You do know you need to share them with the pagan world- in a manner they can actually reach them- since most pagans aren’t able to read your thoughts, right?”
Me: “Yes, yes, muse. I know. Life is really busy and it’s about to get worse. I know I’ve got a bunch of stuff to share– I just need more time to sit down and do it.”
Muse: “Like, now.”
Me: “No, like when I have time to actually maintain it. You know how much I hate enjoying someone’s blog only to realise they stopped writing four months ago and haven’t touched the thing since.”
Muse: “Yap yap yap. Go write a blog post. Do it.”
So I did. In the midst of the Full Moon, a job change, a move (to a different province), and 3.5 out of 4 weeks of September being dedicated travel time for work, I thought, what the hell? My muse can’t lead me astray. On occasion, it pays to remember that my great grandmother wasn’t kidding about the whole “relationships can turn sour” thing. It goes both ways- right now, I’m kinda thinking my pixie pulled a fast one on me. At the end of the day, however, there are really only two options. You can: a) fix the pixie by asking your muse to slow down, or b) fix the crazy by asking your guides/patrons/ancestors/etc etc to smooth shit out a bit. And sometimes, just knowing your options puts the whole thing into perspective.
Right now, I know that I don’t want to ask my muse to set a new pace, because muses are tricksy beasts, and sometimes they flit off into oblivion for months on end, and then where do you end up? Similarly, am I really, really upset I’m finally getting to move back to the town I love, and live in my beloved creaky ancient house, and do cool stuff in my new project on my new team at work? Of course not– it’s just a touch overwhelming all at once. And how do pagans solve being overwhelmed? We drink tea. Bottoms up, lovelies. I’ve got lemon balm and dried nettles waiting to be had!