Top New York Court Backs the Maetreum

The Maetreum IS entitled to their property tax exemption, the state’s highest court has ruled in a unanimous decision.

Congratulations, my dear Friends.  May this Thanksgiving holiday be truly one of THANKS and RELIEF.  We hope to attend your Orphans’ Thanksgiving.  {{HUGS}}

Compelled to share… about the author and her book – “The Weight of Lies,” © 2013 Courtenay Trinder

Link to her interview:
“. . . I walked right into that gun. I climbed into his lap and said, “Make it a clean shot.” I called his bluff. He was a coward, and a bully, and I knew it. If he pulled the trigger I didn’t care. I just wanted to know he’d be covered in my blood and brains. I wasn’t afraid anymore. . . “

“. . . I have been reborn. As they held my son up for me, he opened his eyes and they crackled with electric blue fire. Drunk on the pain of birth, I looked up at him, and he seemed ten feet tall, enormous, a deity. Then this cr
eature, who had been yanked from my body with forceps, let out a gasp, a cry of bewilderment. In that instant, we were the only two people in the world. All questions, with no answers. I was transformed: I became the Mother. I left Eve behind, and chose Mary.. . . “

Excerpt from The Weight of Lies, © 2013 Courtenay Trinder
“I do not concede that my people’s war is lost, until I stop fighting. I have found myself in chains, but I will never be a slave.”

Courtenay Trinder completed her B.A. in Art History and Curatorship in 1994. Since then, she has worked as a phone psychic, a dog walker, an art teacher for pre-schoolers, and at the Canberra Theatre. The Weight of Lies, her first novel, took twenty years to finish, and is available here. She lives with her whippet Tinker, a Rabbit that looks like Hitler, and a beautiful little boy who has taught her everything she knows about love.

Inspired by the Mikvah

Although the Mikvah is from Jewish heritage/religion/culture and I am not Jewish, I do so love what it means/stands for and the reasoning behind it.  I feel myself inspired by this, and called to create a similar ritual for all of us ladies who are Wiccan/Pagan, in order to help us from becoming complacent in our day-to-day lives.  It may even find a place within the Red Tent!

May I have your thoughts?

Please watch the video, created by Jew in the City!  It is informative and beautiful.


Trigger Warning! Domestic Violence Within.

Domestic violence.  Don’t be embarrassed.  Say it, loudly.  DOMESTIC VIOLENCE.  Don’t turn away.  It’s ugly, yes, but it needs to be looked at directly in the eye, seen in the light of day in an effort to remove its dark power.

Domestic violence.  It touches so many of us, no matter our gender or our marital status.  It’s not only violence by males on females.  It can be violence by females on males, or same-gender abuse within a tribe, clan or a household.  Some domestic violence is physical, but it does not always have to be.  There is emotional abuse, sexual abuse, psychological abuse… and any such abuse within a family unit can be categorized as DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, with a sub-category of child abuse, and a sub-sub-category of child sexual abuse (all particularly despicable disgusting acts, but not ones being addressed here today).

This cause célèbre (i.e., an issue or incident arousing widespread controversy, outside campaigning and heated public debate –  The New Dictionary of Cultural Literacy; 3rd ed. 2002) is one of the most heavy topics I carry daily within my heart.  Probably, it’s my “least-favorite” (as when we ‘like’ a sad post on FaceBook) but it is by far the most important one, and I am an activist in support of those who have been betrayed and hurt, because I once was betrayed and hurt.  I know how it feels, and domestic violence is not something that should be forgotten or ignored, ever.

I know some of you believe that violence in a relationship is normal, that it is something that just rears its ugly head once in awhile and after the incident passes you should simply forgive and forget and move on, as if nothing happened.  You could not be more mistaken.  Being betrayed and attacked in your own home, by your own most trusted and beloved family member(s), is the worst violence there can be.

Some of you have seen your parents throw pots and pans at one another.  You have seen them punch holes in walls, heard them scream harsh words of hatred at one another and seen tears of pain and anger flow… but then suddenly it’s all brushed-off, as if it were run-of-the-mill behavior.  It’s the world you were born into, it’s how you were brought up, and it’s how you turned out.  Such a shame, such a waste of a life.  But you know what’s worse?  That you have taught your own children by example that this is to be tolerated, that it’s fine, and that you have demonstrated it by laying angry hands on them yourself, knowing that you could have been the end of the chain when instead you became just another link.

I have seen grown men shove, punch, choke and kick their parents, their life partners and their own children in disgusting displays of bullying and possibly mental illness, only to refuse to admit that they have done anything wrong.  I have seen these men argue with various counselors that their behaviors were 100% acceptable because “(they) pushed my buttons” or “(they) made me angry, and that’s what happens when I get angry.”  It was always the other person’s fault, never theirs.  Never.

It’s insanity to think that such behavior is not only normal, but a right and honorable way to behave!  Some of these men proudly say that they are warriors.  They say that the warrior’s code does not include surrender.  I disagree. Sometimes it is wise to re-analyze yourself, and admit that surrender is best because you have been fighting the wrong way for the wrong outcome.  They are allowing themselves to be selfishly led by an erroneous ideal. Honor, integrity, wisdom, courage and compassion should guide warriors, not selfish bullying.

Even in self-defense, if you fight back and you are the weaker of the two, you could die.  When I was on the receiving end of the anger and violence, I chose not to fight back because that would have given my abuser an excuse to escalate their attack.

If you are a parent, think of your children right now.  Would you advise your children to return to their life partner if they appeared at your door after an argument?  A fight?  A downright physical battle?  A one-sided battery?  How about with torn hair and a bloody scalp?  Bruises?  A split lip?  A stab wound?  A gunshot?  Why is it not okay when we hear about honor killings where women are brought to their deaths by their own families due to cultural or religious beliefs?  Where is the line to be drawn?  What is acceptable to you, and what is not?  Why should any of this violence be acceptable at all?

A few weeks ago, I was at our local CVS to pick up some prescription medication for two of my Clan.  As usual, I stood on line at the rear of the store, waiting my turn to be called to the pharmacy registers.  I was right behind a rather tall, slender young woman who was wearing a grey and black striped top, with very long legs in grey leggings.  She was busying herself with her phone.  The speed of her fingers in texting was mind-boggling, and I watched over her shoulder as words danced across her screen.

“He says he is going to kill me if I try to leave.”

“He choked me until I couldn’t breathe.  I passed out at the door.  I woke up on the bed.”

“He said I made him do it, I push his buttons, it’s always my fault.  If I were a better girlfriend he wouldn’t have to do these things.”

“Why does he do this?  He always says he’ll stop, but then he does it again. He says I do things on purpose just to make him look bad.”

“He says he didn’t really hurt me, I’m just making a big deal over nothing.”

“The doctor says my lymph nodes are swollen.  I am picking up meds now.”

“Don’t tell ANYONE, I’ll be so mad if you do!” and then, “I SO want to go to Florida….”

I glanced at her neck, and sure enough, beneath the make-up I could discern the familiar bruises, easily recognized because I had the extreme personal displeasure of bearing them myself during one of my marriages.  There were three or four on one side, but I could not see if there was one on the other side, where the abuser’s thumb presses in, completing the suffocating grip.  Sometimes there can be found another bruise up beneath the chin, if the abuser lifts his victim by the neck when shoving her – or him – against a wall.

I was distracted from my memories when the cashier on my right called out “next.”  The texter strode away, crossed the yellow privacy line on the ground, and approached the counter.  I had to stay put and wait my turn until the cashier on my left called to me.  She made a mistake while ringing up my order, and after she made the necessary adjustments, when I turned to look at the texting girl, she was gone.  I literally lost my breath.  Hot tears welled up in my eyes, and my heart pounded.  I had considered talking with her, but had hesitated.  Now my chance was lost.  I took my purchase and waited on another line, this time to speak privately with someone behind the counter at the “consultation” window.  It was there that I learned that the Pharmacist probably could not help, because there is no mandatory reporting of adult domestic violence in New York State.

I looked on-line when I got home and learned the following:

The key components of the American Medical Association’s Diagnostic and Treatment Guidelines on Domestic Violence include the following:

1. Providers should routinely screen all women patients about DV in emergency, surgical, primary care, pediatric, prenatal, and mental health settings.

2. Providers should be aware that asking about DV in the presence of the woman’s partner is not safe, and may interfere with making an accurate assessment.

3. Providers’ first concern must be the safety of the victim and her children.

4. Optimal care for the woman depends on the provider’s working knowledge of community resources that can provide safety, advocacy, and support.

5. Providers need to be aware of state laws, and of local services for victims.

6. Providers must be aware that Orders of Protection do not guarantee a victim’s safety, and should continue to reassess it.

7. Providers should disclose abuse to any third party, including authorities, only with the victim’s knowledge and consent.

At home, I lit a candle and placed the texting woman’s needs before the Goddess.  I asked that she be able to trust in and engage with her health-care providers, to find a way out of the deadly maze she had entered.  I regret that I was unable to connect with her, and I continue to hope that she does well.  Please, readers, add her to your intentions.  I know from past experience that those of us who find ourselves in her position need all the help we can get.

Katolicka Maryja – pogańska bogini (John MacArthur)


I discovered only today that an entry from WICCANWOMAN – MY BLOG which I posted on 8/19/13 and entitled SACRED PATH(S) – and in which I included a link to an interview of Pope Francis via Catholic News!! – was mentioned in another blog – as follows – in Polish!!

Anima Animus said,
Luty 26, 2014 at 6:53 pm
Tu więcej na temat Maryji jako Bogini:

(translated: “Here Mary more about a goddess”)

I suggest that my readers visit the Polish blog via the link below, and use this site -
- to copy/paste/translate the whole entry and all comments thereto. It makes for some VERY interesting reading!  :-)

By the way… I am 100% Polish, 2nd/3rd generation in the USA. I am happily surprised to read in those comments that there are others of my faith in my genetic homeland. These next words are for them, and I hope they are not too mangled by the translation program.

Błogosławiony niech będzie, moje siostry i bracia z Bogini. Jak stwierdzono w słowach jej opłatą:. “… Niech będzie piękno i siłę, moc i współczucie, honor i pokora, wesela i szacunek w tobie A ty, którzy chcą mnie poznać, wiedzieć, że poszukiwanie i tęsknota będzie korzystać nie, chyba że znasz tajemnicę: na razie to, czego szukają, nie znajdują w sobie, nigdy nie znajdziesz go bez Albowiem byłem z wami od początku, a ja jestem ten, który uzyskuje się na. koniec z pragnienia. “

  • wiccanwoman said,

    Sierpień 14, 2014 at 6:35 pm

    Oh my, I checked, and the above translation was quite poor after all. Here are the words, in English, to the portion of The Charge of the Goddess which I shared for my Pagan/Wiccan kinfolk:

    „Let there be beauty and strength, power and compassion, honor and humility, mirth and reverence within you.

    And you who seek to know Me, know that the seeking and yearning will avail you not, unless you know the Mystery: for if that which you seek, you find not within yourself, you will never find it without.

    For behold, I have been with you from the beginning, and I am That which is attained at the end of desire.”




Originally posted on Blog Puritana:

Katolicka Maryja to nie jest matka Jezusa. Kim więc jest? Przeanalizujmy kilka faktów.

Tajemnice chwalebne różańca:

5. Ukoronowanie NMP na Królową Nieba i Ziemi

Jeremiasz przepowiadał zniszczenie Jerozolimy oraz zniszczenie domu Pańskiego co wydarzyło się podczas niewoli babilońskiej. Żydzi mają być wkrótce sromotnie ukarani przez Boga. Babilończycy mają nadejść, zniszczyć Jerozolimę, zniszczyć Świątynię, pozabijać, zmasakrować ludzi a następnie wziąć część ludzi z powrotem do Babilonu gdzie będą przebywać przez okres okupacji babilońskiej. Czym są te grzechy, które przyniosły ten Boży sąd?
„Czy nie widzisz co oni czynią w miastach Judy i na ulicach Jerozolimy?” Co oni robili?

„Dzieci zbierają drwa, a ojcowie rozniecają ogień; kobiety ugniatają ciasto, aby wypiekać placki dla królowej niebios, cudzym bogom wylewa się ofiary z płynów, aby mnie obrażać”. (Jer. 7:18)
Dla kogo? Dla Królowej Niebios. Tak przy okazji: niebo nie ma królowej. Czy wiedziałeś o tym? Niebo ma Króla, nie ma ono królowej. Jest to…

View original 478 more words

We, You, I, Do…

universe is asking



See it through.

We are the miracles we have been waiting for.
It is up to us all to change –
and to make changes
– for the better.

Making the Magick happen… HOME SWEET HOME!

I am writing this blog post to honor two special Ladies.  One of them is very dear to me.  Her name is Anna, and I love her with all the love a Mom can give her Daughter.  The other Lady is someone new to me.  Her name is Tara, and although we have not yet met in person, she and her needs were placed in my path by the Goddess, and I happily stumbled upon her, grateful for the opportunity to help her and her family.

These two Ladies are nervous and excited about upcoming adventures in their lives… one being a short 20-mile drive (less than 1 hour), the other being a lengthy 1,170-mile drive (more than 19 hours)!  Regardless of the 1,150-mile difference between the two measurements, these are moves which will link all of us together.

Anna… you are my beloved and precious daughter, of whom I am most proud.  Very shortly, you and your family will be loading-up all your belongings, and you will be heading South to start a new life in Tennessee.  Will we miss you?  Of course we will, but there is no need to be afraid of the unknown.  You have spent vacation time there and enjoyed it; now you can build the next chapter of your life there.  You’ll still have your friends and family here in the North, and with the wonders of the internet you will be able to keep in touch with us whenever you like!  There’s an old round-about chant I learned when I was a Brownie/Girl-Scout, and it goes like this:

Make new friends,
But keep the old…
One is silver,
And the other is gold.

I am positive that this sentiment is true.  It won’t take but a few minutes a week to remember those of us left behind in New York… including Tara!

Tara told me that Anna wants their families to meet for a last bonfire at the property… and I believe this is a great idea!  So Ladies… make those arrangements, and take lots of photographs to share amongst our families.  We have been brought together with the hub of the sacred wheel this time being 42 Dalton Road.  I want to see the handing-over of that special home from one “Lady of the House” to the next.  I’d like to have photographs to frame, display and share which show the trust, respect and new friendships developing amongst our families.

Tara… you and Brian – and your lovely daughters – soon will move into a house that will be your home, just as Anna moved in and made it her home.  We are easy-going folks who believe in the “Pay it Forward” philosophy.  We  have been blessed with the ability to help families regain their balance without stumbling, and ask only that they do the same for others, in the future.

I am so proud of you, Anna… and I am proud of you as well, Tara.

I truly hope that with new beginnings, new adventures, and new memories, that we can develop a friendship that will span many years.

learned to give

Day #72


I turned 58 years of age on May 10th. I have been working since I was 15, although then it was part time at McDonald’s as I had to finish my high school days, and begin and complete 4 years of college. Once I attained my B.S. degree (in Communication Arts & Sciences – Journalism) from St. John’s University, I found my days were filled with seeking jobs, finding jobs, working at jobs, leaving jobs, and seeking more jobs. Work is good. It builds character, it provides income… but sometimes, enough is enough.

Today is Day #72 — the seventy-second day without my having to devote all my time and energy and caring to someone/something not a member of my family… the seventy-second day without having to spend 12 hours of the daily 24 either getting ready to leave my home for work, working somewhere that was not my home, and returning to my home only eat, toil, crash and sleep for 8-9 hours until repeating the cycle again and again.

On St. Patrick’s Day during 2014, my Boss and I were unceremoniously locked out of our office and prevented from doing our jobs by a megalomaniac who is – unfortunately – his eldest brother and landlord, the owner of the building where our business was located. For our purposes here, we shall call that eldest brother Big Dick. Big Dick – besides being a megalomaniac – is a narcissist, a compulsive liar, an alcoholic, and a bully with a filthy mouth who is cheating on his wife with the office manager whom we shall call Linda. Linda is in the process of divorcing her (abusive) husband… for Big Dick… while Big Dick goes through the motions of pretending to divorce his wife (which he has been saying he was doing for over 20 years)! Linda would ask my Boss and me for our opinions and we’d tell her the truth, that it was not good, this leaping from the frying pan into the fire, and that Big Dick had been cruel and abusive to his wife and their 4 children, all 3 of her children are seeing therapists now because of the chaos caused by the selfish adults in their lives, and all 4 of Big Dick’s kids can’t stand Linda’s children (saying they are “just too weird for words”) and they have Linda classified as a “Gold Digger Supreme” who is after their Dad’s money! We can only guess that she didn’t want to hear the truth. She became not only an enabler to her alcoholic boyfriend, but she has begun drinking too much herself, singing the praises of large goblets of wine at extended lunch hours, and fancy martinis while traveling cross-country with Big Dick on the company’s expense account, hoping the paid babysitter would be able to handle things in her absence.

Linda never told the schools that she would be gone, and a babysitter would be in charge during her absence, to keep the kids from their father. Authority figures were calling the office in her absence, refusing to release the children to a stranger and threatening to call CPS, which had been done before. She is going from believing parental abuse was normal – her mother and father used to beat her and drag her by her hair… – to accepting spousal abuse – her husband had broken her shoulder during their engagement, and it got worse after the “I dos” were said… – to having a cruel and ignorant boyfriend whom she sees lose his temper on a daily basis, screaming and cursing at anyone who declines to “do it his way.”

It had become a terribly uncomfortable situation, and my Boss and I believe that Big Dick felt threatened by our friendship, the ongoing arguments they were having, and the truth Linda asked to hear.  Each year, the arguments between Big Dick and my Boss got worse, with Big Dick spending hours playing Solitaire on the office computer and refusing to attend Court appearances.  We guess he thought that locking the door would solve everything, but he never looked far enough into the future.

For awhile, my Boss and I felt free and content – and under his instruction, I filed for unemployment insurance. My Boss promised to stand up for me if Big Dick tried to fight my claim, and the result is that I am receiving the weekly payments I deserve.  Also, it came to pass that no one knew how to handle our files, and the help that had to be hired was nowhere near what he thought it would be. We hear that the doors are always locked and the windows are never open.  The cigars he chain-smokes in opposition to the law and the rank toilet smells his body causes every hour are enough to cause clients to flee the office in disgust.

My Boss had been trying to decide how to proceed with life.  Unfortunately, things became too much for his wife, and totally unexpectedly, she committed suicide a few weeks later. My Boss was the one who immediately felt something strange in the atmosphere, and he found her, but not fast enough to bring back her spirit although he did try. We don’t know why she did it, although we can suspect by the things he and I discussed over the 8 years he and I worked together. She left behind an adult daughter, two very young children, one of whom has special needs… and her husband, my Boss. He is devastated and overwhelmed, and it breaks my heart to see him so confused, angry and hurt. Big Dick is so much the narcissist that he attempted to make the wake and funeral all about himself. It was shocking to witness – and yes, I was there – and my Boss has made the wise decision to cut him out of his life, permanently, and devote all of his time to his children, who need him especially in the absence of their Mom.

In spite of all this… did I like my recent job? Well, yes, I did… very much. I had performed the specific functions of my position for many years at different firms, and I cared deeply for my Boss as you can tell. (We remain caring friends even now, and will remain so.) I felt called to help injured people fight for financial settlements because I was there, once, in that very position (see photos at link, below – warning, some show graphic injuries).

People would come to us injured, scared, fragile, ignorant… it was for my Boss and me to guide them to a positive resolution. But now, you know what? It’s time for me to guide myself to a positive resolution, to a good place in my life.

I’m amazingly calm about being unemployed. I have lost a great deal of weight (30 pounds, and more to follow!) and I sleep peacefully.  My doctor is pleasantly surprised by my new good health. As always, I still use coupons, buy from thrift shops, and prepare frugal meals. I feel joyous to be able to use this abundance of free time to practice my religion, work in my garden, clean my house, go through boxes of “old stuff” and set-up and decorate my studio where – FINALLY! – I have a personal place where I can work on my art – making “objects” to share, give as gifts, and sometimes even sell. Sometimes collages, sometimes cards, sometimes jewelry, sometimes pretty things that cannot be classified as anything other than “art.”  Finally, too, I can work on my book (a cozy mystery novel).  I just have to get over the negative thinking, that saying I’m writing a book is “pretentious.”  After all, books come from writers, and I’m a writer, so wish me luck, because a book is what it is!

It also hurts, though, because without my income we are unable to continue being the philanthropists we have been… and it hurts, too, being unable to help my Boss fight the incredible pain he feels every day in the home where his wife did what she did to herself, and her family.  It’s easy for me to say “Everything happens for a reason,” but I keep that to myself when he is around. I just know it is the truth, and my family and I will be around to offer him help and companionship for as long as he needs us. It’s sad that the same event caused us to land in such different places.

The Divine Feminine… the Triple Goddess… and a poem for my SisterWomen


The above image is from the following website entry:

Many thoughts expressed clearly and beautifully
in this entry by Judith Kusel are thoughts I share.

This morning,
I was inspired by her writing
to compose the following,
to share with you.
May you enjoy it.


We, SisterWomen all,
need not be
exactly the same.
How boring to feel and see
nothing different,
through the game
we call life.
So much of our value
is found in our variety:
mothers and sisters,
in laughter and sobriety,
teachers and students,
givers and receivers both,
friends and lovers
and laborers in many ways,
along the path we humans walk.
Along the Circle of Life,
through the darkness of night
and the brightness of day,
in sadness and in joy,
we hope and strive to do our best,
then stumble, embarassed, from jealousy,
and recover, relieved, from generosity.
Imperfect and flawed are we,
still we work and rest,
we walk, and run,
we trip and fall,
we reach, and rise up
and call out to those we hope may have
the wisdom and gentility
to meet our needs,
heal our wounds
and share their strength with us
as we learn to cope.
Hold out your hands and offer care,
sympathy, encouragement
to Sisters dear,
then honor yourself, and who you are,
embrace yourself now,
and who you wish to be.
Step by step,
by work and by prayer,
I [re]build myself
I’m almost there…
sometimes hesitant,
or a petulant child,
learning how to walk the miles,
frustrated then, and stumbling again
with skinned elbows and scarred knees
but with millions of glorious memories
all resting one upon the other
like a Jenga tower of hopes and dreams
all of which make us unique,
with value and beauty
shining bright,
a blessed variety
of sacred lights,
all glowing from within.


Some Angels Have Paws

Some Angels Have Paws.

I am sharing this on behalf of my friend, Jules, who has C.P., and is struggling to obtain funds for a Service Dog. 

Please read her blog, and consider making a donation in lieu of a Christmas gift for those of your friends who have dogs or other pets.

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