Priesthood of the Ashes

Some thoughts here I think are especially relevant to the Morrigan, and my work with her.

Call of the Syren

The man placed a line of gray ash from the sacred firepit upon my forehead, above the bright sindoor red bindi he had marked me with in Kali’s temple. I felt a shudder of energy release memories of past and future; a layer of old self replaced by a new layer of meaning. There was fire behind my eyes, gray of ash and red of blood. In that instant the gravity of the experience I had just received in the temple, the shrines I had visited marking patterns of a deeper mystery, began to transform me.

* * *

She came roaring in a cloud of ash, bright flashing blade and lolling tongue. Slice, chop, red palms to hungry skulls, CRACK. Here, my child, You Are.

* * *

The boat was rocking so softly as I took my place on the very edge, toes just touching the surface of…

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An Open Letter to Cherry Hill Seminary

Finding the Path

Hi CHS. Celestine here. You probably don’t know me; well, maybe you do, after the past couple of days. I haven’t exactly been silent.

For the record, I am addressing the individuals in charge over there at Cherry Hill Seminary. I know some of your names, and I don’t know others. Just know that when I say “Cherry Hill Seminary” or “CHS” I am not referring to an institution as an individual, but to the individual people who make up the governing body of the institution.

That said:

Oh, Cherry Hill Seminary. You have some explaining to do.

And you’re not doing it, not even attempting to do it from what I can see, and that’s a problem.

There is no excuse for protecting transphobic individuals, or their rhetoric. Hate speech does not fall under the purview of “freedom of academics.” I could–in fact, I almost did–go on a rant…

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