New to the area, several months ago I called the studio line of our local community radio station, KPFZ 88.1 FM, and asked the Pagan World Views hosts this burning question, “Where is everyone?” They couldn’t exactly tell me.
So pagan humans being scarce or well-hidden in these here parts, I began to greet the mountain, the lake, the ancestors and wights, plants and animals, and “the spring that feeds us” on a daily basis. I believe we’re getting to know each other (I had a similar practice on Hawai’i Island). I adopted two more cats, Freya and Varda, which annoyed my first two, Popoki and Niblet. I noted with sadness the closing of a rock and mineral store in Lucerne. I kept working on my fantasy novel, The Dire Deeds of the Guild of Ornamental Hermits, a tale of mid-life magic. I tried creating a “fragrance-free” pagan meet-up group which attracted absolutely nobody and only cost me money.
And witch camp in the redwoods out as mosquito repellent causes me to drool and lose my words — not helpful when trying to make new friends or attempting magical utterances.
Sigh.
So besides listening to podcasts such as Down at the Crossroads, what’s a chemically sensitive (i.e. poisoned), socially isolated, solo practitioner of non-denominational magic to do?
After consultation via divination, the deities of varied genders have decreed, “go forth and blog!” So here I am, a “Lady of the Lake,” with a tree-obscured view of Clear Lake out my living room window.
And here you are, a reader! Well met! What sayest thou?
“Go forth and blog!”
Lady Of The Lake 
In consciousness, reverence, flow, and passion — I think that some are here, though I haven’t met many since moving to this lake. I believe that I can sense them and really can’t imagine this place failing to draw their spirits, though it seems neither wild enough nor embracing enough for gatherings. Though mine perhaps is not so much a practice, I live in a state of worship, an earth-centric, anti-speciesist, feminine-energy-based, pansexual (I coined that term at age 20 only to find, quite recently, that it was probably already in use) existence that is, pretty much, an animism of my own devising. It is a collage I’ve pasted up and awkwardly treasured, mostly in secret, for which I actually have few words. It is like being lost in a series of crystalline moments, perfect jewels of beauty, every day. It is like being inescapably drawn to each experience, to be transfixed by the astonishment of each, my soul strummed to an ecstatic vibrating frequency by inexplicably numinous, ordinary encounters with the world’s structure as well as inhabitants. It’s all sacred. It’s all magical. This is probably paganism or the fringes of sanity, and I don’t really care; I am built this way and believe that I’m blessed more than I can measure. Well-met, indeed.
If you’d like, I’d love to walk beside you now and then.
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What a wonderful thing to read! I look forward to getting to know you more. We do have more than a few things in common!
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