Mercredi: The Art of Beauty

I love a long, hot bath, as I think I’ve mentioned here on about two dozen occasions.  I figure, though, that while you’re sitting in a tub full of water you might as well multi-task and make it count.  The effort – and it doesn’t take a lot – is worth it because the benefits are exceptional.  Here’s an old hoodoo soak that will help you relax, improve your concentration and even fight depression, especially you ladies.

The original recipe for this bath calls for only the pods of cocoa beans.  Getting your hands on these without the beans in is more difficult in our modern environment where chocolate is manufactured in factory environments and rarely made at home.  Some of you may have access to restaurants or other sources that can spare of few cocoa bean hulls but, if you’re like me and that’s not an option, whole pods with beans in will work fine for this bath.  These can usually be found at farmer’s markets and in the natural foods section of larger grocery stores.  In a pinch, you can even use just the beans.

Take two or three pods (be sure to crack them a bit if the beans are still inside) and put them on a muslin or cheesecloth square large enough to contain them.  Bundle the corners of your square together and tie it up tightly with string.  Put this sachet in a clean tub and run a warm bath.  Climb in and enjoy the earthy, comforting scent as it helps you let go of anxiety and come to a more positive emotional place.

What could be easier, or more enjoyable?  Not much.  A votre santé ~

Header: The Bath by Alfred Stephens

Mardi: Herbal-Wise

As a magickal practice, hoodoo has a long history of offering root work and mojos that will either keep the law away from the client, or help them when they have a run in with the authorities.  This makes perfect sense given the roots of hoodoo.  Most practitioners came from the ranks of the poor, who probably had more frequent encounters – for good or ill – with law enforcement and the court system.  This does not mean that wealthier people refused to seek out such help when it was needed; more than one land or business owner in a bind has surely asked a local root doctor to help him with a law confusion or court case mojo.

Today’s herb is used for such workings.  Celandine, a leafy and poisonous plant with milky sap and poppy-like pods is used in work to keep away evil, most particularly the evils of the law.  The tiny seeds have been scattered around houses to ward of the evil eye and keep away ghostly haints and witches, but this method is said to keep the police away as well.  This was a treatment favored by illicit brothels and speak easies alike.

An old candle burning ritual to keep people from testifying against one required that poppy seeds, celandine and calendula flowers be steeped in oil for nine days.  This mixture was then strained and the oil was used to anoint a black candle into which the names of those set to testify have been carved.  The candle is lit and allowed to burn itself out while the root worker or her client – or both – concentrate on a successful outcome in or out of court.

Scott Cunningham mentions similar uses for celandine in Wicca.  The leaves should be worn next to the skin, and replaced with new ones every three days, to avoid capture by the law or other possible snares.  The same application may win favor from judge and jury in a court case.  He also says that celandine is worn to uplift the spirit and fight depression.  Bonne chance ~

Header: The Trial of Jeanne d’Arc by Louis Boutet de Monvel c 1911

Lundi: Recipes

The only people at my house who will eat tomato soup are me and my older daughter.  That means this recipe doesn’t get to the stove a whole lot around chez Pauline.  These facts don’t preclude me from offering you my grandma’s delicious tomato soup recipe, however.

3 pounds ripe heirloom tomatoes, cut in half (back when Gran made this recipe for me, the tomatoes were plump off the vines my grandfather grew; yum!)

¼ tbsps olive oil (the best you can get), plus a little more for onion sauté

Salt & pepper to taste

1 large onion, chopped

Pat unsalted butter

1 28 oz can plum tomatoes with juice

3 tbsps basil

1 tsp thyme

16 cups good, low sodium chicken stock

Tabasco pepper sauce (optional)

Preheat oven to 400.

Toss tomatoes and olive oil, salt and pepper and spread evenly on a foil-lined baking sheet.  Bake for about 45 to 50 minutes.

In a large pot or Dutch oven, sauté the onion in olive oil and butter until the onion browns, about 10 minutes.  Add the canned tomatoes, chicken stock and herbs.  Add the tomatoes from the oven, including any juice.  Bring all to a boil and then turn down to a simmer.  Allow to cook uncovered for at least an hour.  Taste for seasoning and add salt and/or pepper as necessary.  Spice it up with a few shakes of Tabasco if you’re so inclined.

You can serve this soup as it comes out of the pot or puree it with a blender or stick mixer if you prefer the classic, smooth tomato soup.  Either way, it’s delicious.  Bon appetite ~

Header: Market Woman by Pieter Aertsen

Dimanche: Swimming

Woman at the Beach by Edna Crompton via American Gallery

Vendredi: Chthonian Histories

Since the Great Age of Exploration (how “great” it was depends on what continent you were living on at the time), Christian missionaries have spread like weeds throughout the world.  Not only have they preached their own brand of salvation, they have also colored the salvation myths of other religions with their own wrathful, violent world view.  We’ll talk about this on more than one Friday in the future, but today let us look at the dark but temporary underworld of the religion known as Jainism.

Jainism is a corollary of Buddhism and is largely practiced in India, where the man who would come to be known as Buddha was born.  Like Buddhism, it is a religion of five virtues or precepts which, at least on paper, seem easy to understand and follow.  In both traditions the virtues require practitioners to abstain from harming living beings, stealing, sexual misconduct, lying and intoxication.

Humans being what they are, these restrictions are not always as easy to adhere to as they appear.  Most of us, in fact, will stray from at least one of those abstinences in our life times.  Since Jainism also envisions a progression through many lifetimes, any given soul has a lot of opportunity to fall afoul of the virtues.  When this happens with regularity, or to a degree that is extremely detrimental to others – drug dealing, mass murder or serial rape, for instance – a soul is bound for the horror of Naraka where fire, filth and darkness await.

Unlike the hell of Christianity, a soul is not condemned to Naraka after death.  In fact, a soul is incarnated into one of the seven “grounds” which make up Naraka.  These are situated at the lowest point in the universe and they are populated, alternatively, either with “punishers” and “punished” or simply with souls who must use up their bad karma by punishing each other.

There are no time tables in Naraka.  A soul may stay for as little as 10,000 years or as long as a billion.  The variation is only based on karmic “ripening”.  Once the soul has “burned off” its inappropriate karma, it can once again be reborn into one of the higher realms of the universe. 

Entering Naraka, in some texts, involves the soul passing over or through a river which makes the individual forget their past lives.  This is similar to the Lethe of Ancient Greek mythology, which did the same.  From there, a soul is assigned to its “ground” where it can best work off the karma that brought it there in the first place.

Like Buddhism and some other Eastern religions, the working off of bad karma is imagined as a torturous process.  The descriptions of these tortures are inevitably ghastly including piercings, impaling, dismemberment, boiling in water or oil, roasting over open fires or grates, drinking of molten metals and so on ad nauseum.  Needless to say, the soul’s “body” in Naraka cannot die and will regenerate only to be tortured again.

The text known as the Sutra Kritanga mentions a constant wailing, screaming and whining by the agonized beings in Naraka.  It also speaks of “punishers” who mete out each soul’s portion of misery.  Other texts, however, speak of the “punished” inflicting hurt on their fellows, and on themselves.

Once again, the ghoulish human trait of enjoying other people’s pain comes into play.  One can feel righteous indignation at someone who has, for instance, murdered a child and therefore not feel too bad about imagining the details of that person “burning off” their karma in a miserable torture chamber.  As Christianity attempted to push against the Jain sect, the torture chamber became Hell, the “punishers” became demons and the “burning off” of karma became a permanent judgment. 

The happy ending, if you will, that comes out of Jainism’s Naraka is that the tortured soul will eventually be free.  It will rise to a higher dimension where, incarnate once again, it can strive toward enlightenment and eventual freedom from the wheel of rebirth.  Even in the thickest darkness, the soul has hope.

Header:  Cloth painting from 17^th century India depicting the seven levels of Naraka via Wikipedia

Jeudi: Weather-Wise

Yesterday at Triple P, I talked about forecasting weather at sea by the look of the moon. This got me thinking about doing the same by land, and digging around in my notes on old wives’ tales for anything on the moon and weather. As it turns out, there have been many beliefs from ancient times about heavenly bodies telling us what to expect weather-wise. And the night sky has not been left out by half.

In the ancient world, particularly in the Near East and Egypt, a red moon was a sure sign not only of turbulent, dry weather, but also death. In Medieval Europe, the opposite seems to be the case as long as the ruddy moon appeared in August or September when it was the sign of good weather throughout harvest season.

A moon with a ring around it – often spoken of in 16^th and 17^th century lore as “the moon wearing a veil” – was a sign of rain.

The full moon was considered a favorable weather sign in Ancient Rome if it was not blocked by clouds. This continued to be the case until the early modern period, when the fear of witches congregating under full moons tainted a previously happy time.

Stars, too, were thought to foretell the weather both in the short and long term. Bright stars, particularly in a winter sky, foretold a clear day to follow. Dim stars covered by fog or mist were a portend of snow or sleet. Venus, the morning and evening star, was said to hint at the growing season when she rose in the springtime sky. If she stayed low and hugged the land, summer would be cool and crops would grow indifferently. If the star was high in the evening, and particularly if she was seen shimmering before the sunset, then a glorious summer and banner crops were surely in the offing.

Header: Starry Night Over the Rhone by Vincent van Gogh c 1888

Mardi: Herbal-Wise

Mugwort has a long standing history as an enhancer of psychic powers.  It also has other properties that can be helpful when one is in need of strength, stamina and healing.  Unlike many other herbs, mugwort’s uses seem to be relatively well agreed upon by the different magickal disciplines.

In Europe old wives, who were often the wise women of their towns and villages, used mugwort to aid their psychic abilities.  A weak tisane made from the leaves was sweetened with honey and drunk before reading cards, scrying or casting lots.  (Note that mugwort is not recommended for ingestion when one is pregnant or nursing.)  The same infusion, without honey, was used to “wash” cards, crystal balls, mirrors and runes.  A pillow stuffed with dried mugwort was thought to improve psychic power.

Mugwort is said to improve stamina and strength if sprinkled in a person’s shoes.  While this is done in hoodoo with no particular ritual, Scott Cunningham tells us that the best results will be achieved if the mugwort is picked before sunrise while uttering the words tollam te Artemisia, ne lassus sim in via.

In hoodoo, root workers burn mugwort on charcoal with frankincense or copal to encourage the aid of benevolent spirits.  Similarly, Wiccans burn mugwort with sandalwood to increase the efficacy of vision quests and psychic readings.

Catherine Yronwode of the Lucky Mojo Curio Co. says that a red flannel mojo bag filled with mugwort, comfrey root and a St. Christopher medal will protect long-distance travelers not only from injury and illness but also from pesky annoyances like cancelled flights and lost luggage.

In eastern countries, particularly China and Japan, mugwort is considered curative.  Incense made with mugwort was used by the Ainu people to expel disease, as the spirits who caused illness were repulsed by the smell.  Carrying mugwort on one’s person was also a balm for a myriad of ills, from headaches to insanity.  Bonne chance ~

Header: Untitled illustration by Olaf Hajek