Day #23 of My Search for My Soul Mate

Sekhmet has arrived.

Call me neurotic, but I generally like to wash things off that arrive in my home from elsewhere – you never know who sneezed on things, or handled things immediately after leaving the ladies room without washing their hands, etc., etc. (and I say that not because I suspect Sacred Source of anything so heinous but because far too many times I have  watched women from my office stink up the woman’s room with clouds of fecal matter and fart-fragranced air, and then leave without even considering running their hands under water, never mind the soap.)

The irony?  When a woman shuffles out the door, she has to pass right by a sign that orders her to wash her hands.  The drawing that accompanied the sign, if you didn’t realize those were soap bubbles, actually looked like applauding hands.  These women are so stupid they must assume they were being applauded for releasing what had to be a world record stink-bomb of a bowel-movement and then not washing the stench of droplets of fecal material off of their hands.

“Yay!  Congratulations!  You’re a world class pig!”

Who raises these women?  MY mother would have hauled me back to the sink by one ear if I’d even thought about not washing my hands.  You don’t even want to THINK about the piglets these women are raising.

But back to Sekhmet.

I didn’t read the description carefully enough – I was expecting she’d be black in color, instead she was painted to resemble green marble.  Went to wash her off with a moist paper towel, and ended up with a paper towel soaked with a turquoise blue color.  Said, “&^%$%^&*”.  Next I tried a Lysol wet wipe out of  green plastic can.  Same result.  Now I have no idea what to do.  Spray her with Lysol or something?  Nothing like the vision of asphyxiating one’s deity in clouds of toxic fumes.  Maybe I’ll test a swipe of alcohol on the bottom of the statue where it won’t be visible if ALL of the paint dissolves.

I decided to research “ritual baths”, looking for a ritual bath guaranteed not to dissolve resin paint, which is why I ended up with Scott Cunningham’s Magical Herbalism, which I already had, from my Enchantments days.  I’d had that book for so long, the pages were turning beige instead of white.  I hadn’t even started reading about “ritual baths guaranteed not to dissolve resin paint”, because I got sidetracked reading about tools you might need if you decided you wanted to get involved in “Magical Herbalism”.  First on the list was a magical knife for cutting herbs, which I’d already learned was called a “boline”.  I looked some up, and at every turn was met with, “NOT TO BE SOLD IN MASSACHUSETTS!”.

Say what?!?

Now, here’s the catch – I already had knives I used to cut herbs .. and other things.  A few of them I’d even bought in Massachusetts – at the grocery store, in the “kitchen supplies” aisle.  I wasn’t even planning to buy a boline – until I was told that by law, I couldn’t.   All of a sudden, I couldn’t live without a boline or an athame.  I had to have them.  I had to have them NOW.  Actually, until that moment, I had always used kitchen shears to snip herbs for meal times.  Now I just HAD to have a two-sided herb knife or I’d die.

Massachusetts, it seems, has still not developed the intelligence to move past her Salem Witch Trial Days, and certainly not past the days of Prohibition.  Nothing makes an item of desire more desirable than absolutely forbidding it.  Massachusetts is a stupid state.  If you’re a witch, or a wizard, in Massachusetts, you have to sneak out of state, buy an athame or a boline in some other state, and sneak it back in the Nanny State and risk getting arrested and thrown in jail.  Like Damien was thrown in jail for reading Aleister Crowley and calling himself wiccan.  You wouldn’t have thought so, but apparently Massachusetts was as backward as Arkansas.

I was pretty much stunned.  Really, I hadn’t even considered buying either one – probably ever – the thought had never even crossed my mind.  Now I was  searching high and low for shops in New Hampshire or Maine that sold them. Then I stopped myself, while I waited to calm down.    I have never been so homesick for New York as I was, after trying to cut herbs in Massachusetts.

America.  Land of the Free, huh?  Not in Massachustts, it ain’t.

Meanwhile, I tried mixing up the annointing oil with my new eyedropper.  Smelled wonderful, but why does the scent disappear so quickly?  I decided I liked the scent better without the orange oil, and tried to figure out why.

The last thing I did before closing the book was have a silent raging argument with the late Scott Cunningham (and probably the Gardnerians too, if they hold to the same opinion) about making a wand.  Not only do the instructions call for you to remove it from a living tree, they want you to remove the bark.  My immediate reaction?  “[BLEEP!!] THAT!”

Truth is, mine is well over 30 years old at the moment, and it picked me.  I also knew nothing about trees at the time (and still don’t) and couldn’t tell you what kind of tree it came from.  I assume the universe knew what it was doing when it handed this beautiful wand to me.  Not only did I find it lying forlornly on the ground, but removing its beautiful bark never even occurred to me.  Years of holding it and always having it near me has left it with a beautiful sheen on the bark.  I love the thing.  When I wandered away from the Wicca lessons, it served as the best back scratcher on the planet.  I have carried it all over the United States and it’s still awesomely beautiful.

And not once did I harm a living tree to obtain her.  Screw THAT!  He may be far more experienced in Wicca than I am, but I still know he was wrong when he wrote that.  And witches are still wrong if they keep spreading that misinformation around.

Witches:  Rewrite your books.  It is NOT necessary that a wand come from a living tree.  The essence of the tree remains with the branch even if it is no longer attached to the tree, and ripping it away from a living tree is cruel to the wand and to the tree.  In fact, your essence bonds more easily to a wand not still bonded to a living tree.  These instructions are WRONG!  Using wood you obtain from the ground is equally valid.  If the wand finds you (easily determined by having it catch your eye and you finding it beautiful), claim it and make it your own.  And the bark is a beautiful part of the wood.  Trust me.  YOU look better with your skin on; so does the wood.

Making the Day Book is turning out to be rather fascinating … on November 9^th, I learned all about the Loy Krathong festival in Thailand.  This year it’s being held on the 24^th of November; Diane Stein in her “Goddess Book of Days” apparently didn’t think her readers would look it up and discover that it’s a floating holiday, and supposed to coincide with a full moon – Stein put it in her book on the 9^th.

Google some images of the festival, and it’s really rather beautiful – all these tiny lights floating on rivers, as everyone uses the festival to floating away their misfortune and bad things in the past and asking for good luck in the future.   Trying to envision what would happen if I went and floated something on the Charles.  Ehhhh … knowing the Boston Police, I’d probably get arrested.  Either for that, or for sneaking back into the state with a ritual herb cutting knife.

But now … back to Sekhmet.

"I am the Darkness behind and beneath the shadows.

I am the absence of air that awaits at the bottom of every breath.

I am the Ending before Life begins again,

The Decay that fertilizes the Living.

I am the Bottomless Pit,

The never-ending struggle to reclaim that which is denied.

I am the Key that unlocks every Door.

I am the Glory of Discovery,

For I am that which is hidden, secluded and forbidden

Come to me at the Dark Moon and see that which can not be seen,

Face the terror that is yours alone.

Swim to me through the blackest oceans

To the center of your greatest fears--

The Dark God and I will keep you safe.

Scream to us in terror, and yours will be the Power to Forbear.

Think of me when you feel pleasure, and I will intensify it,

Until the time when I may have the greatest pleasure

Of meeting you at the Crossroads Between the Worlds."

Charge of the Dark Goddess

http://www.angelfire.com/moon/mothergoddess/SekhmetShrine.html