FRIDAY ^#33

Fire Ritual by Raven

The smoke billowed from the cauldron into the blue, cloudless sky as I lit a bundle of sage from the fire and passed it over each sacred object. The altar was made by laying a scarf on the lawn. A candle, a chalice, a feather, and my crystal dildo were arranged in each of the four directions. My ritual knife and rattle were also within reach. Violet stepped out into the backyard and placed a wide-brimmed hat on my head to match the one on hers.

“A ball cap would have been fine.” I smiled. “I just needed a little sun protection.”

“Are you kidding?” she giggled. “These hats make us look like real witches.”

“We are real witches . . .” I poked the knife into the cauldron to arrange the kindling. “And this is a real ritual. We don’t need warts to prove it. Are you ready?”

“Just one more thing . . .” Violet leaned across the altar to gently kiss my mouth. “Okay. I’m ready now.”

“Thanks for the important addition. Now, let’s close our eyes and tune in to the place where intentions are born. Deep breath, feeling grateful.

“Breathing into the highest frequency of love we can authentically access, we ask God/Goddess, to support us in transcending the small self so the God force can come through. Let’s open by chanting the mantra, Om Ah Hung.”

Together with we sounded:

“Ommmmm.”

“Ahhhhhhhhhh.”

“Hunnnnnnng.”

After a moment of silence, I said, “Next I will call upon the seven directions, and after I shake my rattle, you can join me by saying, ‘Aho.’”

“Can I get something from the house first?” Violet asked.

“Quick, before I cast the circle, otherwise”—I picked up the ritual knife—“I’ll have to cut you a door.”

“Oooh, is that what that is for?” She added seductively, “I was hoping you’d use it for something kinky later.”

“Go! Do what you need to do,” I commanded.

While she was inside, I took a moment to hold the knife to my third eye, and silently thanked the universe for providing this life, this lover, and the mystery of our future together.

Violet tiptoed back with a flute and explained, “I haven’t played in a long time.”

“Perfect, use your intuition for the perfect time to play.” I proceeded to invoke, evoke, invite, and embody each direction.

“. . . And finally, to the direction of the center. The ancient keeper of the True Self. We turn inward and invoke all elements, the divine masculine, and the divine feminine, to come to make love within our hearts.”

After several breaths, feeling the energy flowing through the central channel, Violet picked up her flute and gingerly, tripping over a few notes at first, began playing with growing devotion. The effect was moving.

When she laid down her instrument, I said, “Truly, beautiful.” Then I continued, “Now the magic of transmutation is made manifest with conscious consideration of both light and shadow. Before we offer anything to the Agni, or fire ritual, let’s feel into that which we are ready to call into our lives. I’ll start.”

I held a small symbolic broomstick to my heart, and after a few breaths I spoke: “Although I have a number of old habits and patterns that I’d love to drop into the flames, the one I’m most eager to release is the desire to possess and punish. It’s fun to play with those impulses as a way to bring our conditioning to light, but when they don’t empower true love, I want to cast them away.”

I swept the ritual broom around my aura a few times, then plucked a single straw out, held it above the cauldron, and incanted, “I hereby release the pattern of possessiveness and punishment so I can liberate myself from its temptation.” Then I tossed it into the flames to watch it incinerate in a hypnotic dance.

“Aho!” Violet echoed, and she accepted the broom. “Okay. I think what I need to let go of most is the old story that sex is dirty or naughty. I still get this guilty feeling that I’m going to hell, so in order to let myself enjoy it, I feel I have to be tied up and forced. Don’t get me wrong, I still want to be tied up and forced, but out of pleasure, not guilt, if that makes sense.” I nodded, and she brushed herself in the same fashion, pulled a strand from the broom, and said, “I’m releasing the whole story that sex is somehow not spiritual.”

“Aho,” we said together.

We gazed into each other’s eyes, illuminated from across the cauldron, and she couldn’t resist the overwhelming urge to come closer and kiss me. I interrupted with, “Now, as our shadows are brought to light, we can offer libations to the Goddess.”

I playfully produced a bottle of wine from my knapsack, as if pulling a rabbit from a magician’s hat.

“I thought you didn’t drink?” she asked.

“Only a little, in ceremony. But I couldn’t pass this up, it’s a new label called ‘Bitch’ wine.” I opened the bottle and poured generously onto the ground. “I offer this libation in honor of our ancestors, especially the healers and the witches whose faith went underground.”

I positioned the chalice in Violet’s hand and told her to “hold steady.” I raised the bottle to the sky and dramatically poured a thin ribbon, which overflowed from the full cup and spilled onto the ground.

“I libate to all the circumstances that have conspired to bring us together,” I said.

Violet added, “Especially Damien and Nick.”

“May you never thirst!” I said, encouraging her to drink. Then I took a sip from the shared cup, and gazed into her eyes.

Violet coughed. “It works for a symbolic offering, but for an aperitif, not so much.”

“Don’t be a wine snob. Let’s make another libation.”

Violet raised the cup and said, “I libate to Autumn for sharing our love and sexual healing.” She took a swig.

“I libate to our lovemaking,” I said before sipping.

She flirted back with, “I libate to more orgasms.”

“I second that libation.” I put my arm around her.

“I libate to more rituals!”

“Really?” I asked. “You want more?”

“Of course! This is great,” Violet said, smiling.

“Be careful what you ask for,” I said, and then we shared a moment of reverence. A few breaths to feel the power of the intentions we’d set. Then Violet surprised me with her final libation:

“To the universe for answering our prayers. Especially the ones I was too afraid to ask for . . . like my meeting you.”

“Aho!” I affirmed. Then I cupped Violet’s face and pulled her lips to mine. Our tongues sealed the magic as my hand found its way to her ponytail, pulling her head back to expose her neck. I growled at her jugular like a feral animal. Soon, we were sniffing at each other, rolling around, biting, licking, stripping each other’s clothes off, and feasting from each other’s bodies upon the Earth.

Breathless and spent, we collapsed, resting with intertwined limbs until Violet noticed and pointed out, “The fire is going out.”

I reached over to the nearly empty bottle and poured it over the embers. “This final libation goes to Agni the god of fire.” She sparked and sputtered before fading. “Thank you for taking our prayers to the heavens with your power of transmutation.” I looked at Violet and asked, “Anything else, for closure?”

“I’m good.”

I placed my hands at my heart center and said, “Thanks to the seven directions. The circle is open but unbroken.”

“Aho.” Violet’s eyes sparkled. “Now what?”

“Traditionally, at the closing of a ceremony, Pagans break bread, but since we’ve already feasted on each other, we can just rest,” I said, pulling my goddess into my arms for a long sweet cuddle.

Suddenly, the sliding door from the house opened and Damien walked out. He was obviously humored by the sight of us lounging by a cauldron. “Look at you two, like arsonists at a crime scene.”

“Hi, baby! You just missed our ritual.” Violet rose to greet him.

Damien grabbed the rattle and chanted, “Hummina! Hummina!” while playfully skipping around the altar.

Violet laughed, but said, “Don’t be nasty. This is serious.”

“Serious?” He picked up the wine and rolled his eyes. “Right. I can see that.”

I sneered at him. “If I didn’t just exhaust myself with your woman, I would take you over my knee.”

“What kind of spell did you cast, anyway?” he asked, sitting beside me and kissing my forehead. “Should I be worried?”

“No, but there is something I actually want to talk to you about,” I told Damien.

Violet interjected, “What is it?”

I took a moment to pique their interest. “During the ritual, Violet made a powerful declaration, and I got the hint that it might be time for her to meet my mentor.”

“Charles Muir?” Damien said.

“Have you met him?” Violet asked.

“Damien studied with him last year.” I interlaced my legs with Violet’s on top of Damien’s. “Which is why he’s so good with his hands.”

Violet’s eyes (and probably her vulva) lit up with excitement. “I want to meet this man!”

“Well, he’s coming to town in a few weeks and I think you’d get a lot out of doing the intensive.” I smiled at Damien. “You both would.”

“Is this because I said I wanted more ritual?” Violet asked.

“Yes, and specifically because you’re working on healing the split between sex and spirit. It’s a commitment; it’s a three-day immersion.”

“Charles Muir’s teachings are invaluable, Violet. I’d love to go with you, but this is my busiest month,” Damien apologized.

“You’ve got two weeks,” I pleaded. “It’s not until the Friday after next.”

After thinking about it for a moment, Violet said, “So if I went, I’d have to share our Friday date with the whole workshop, and I’d miss my date night with Damien?”

Damien is deadpan: “And what makes you think I’m going to let you enroll my girlfriend in another yoga cult? I’ve barely finished deprograming her from the last one.”

“Because you know I’ll bring her back versed in the art of lovemaking. She can come home each night and practice her new skills on you.”

“Sold,” he declared.

“Really?” Violet could barely contain herself.

“Yeah,” he smiled, “Actually, I’ve been wanting you to meet him.”

“I feel so blessed to have both of you in my life.” Violet kissed Damien, and then me, and then Damien again. “You are both my teachers, and now I get to drink from to the source!”