• (c) Janus L. Blume

A Golden Homecomming: The Night I Met the Goddess


The first public premiere from my upcoming book, "Witchcraft, Power, and Transformation..."

Prefix I


The Night I Met the Goddess

“We shall not cease from exploration, and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive

where we started and know the place for the first time.”

T.S. Elliot

The words above describe how I felt at my first Goddess ritual.

The windows of the houses on the hill above us reflected gold from the setting sun. Twenty or so women formed a circle on our hostess’ patio deck. The first time I attended was summer solstice, 1994. The ritual was about to start.

Someone handed me a 3”X5” card and asked me to invoke the South. A small electrical current surged through my innards, and my hand trembled ever so slightly. I smiled and said, “Sure.” reading the card to see if I could figure out what she was talking about. A woman to the right of me called in the East, Ostara, maiden goddess of sunrise and spring. Then it was my turn.

“Pele, Mother of fire and volcanoes, your power creates and destroys. Bring warmth and passion from the land of the South. Bless us with purification; cleanse us of all that no longer serves. Please protect our rites. So mote it be.”

Two other women called in goddesses from the West and the North. The circle was cast; we were between the worlds.

I don’t remember much of the content of the ritual. There were probably songs and chants, readings about the full solar essence. maybe a guided meditation getting us in touch with the time of the full sun in our own lives. The cadence of the words entrained me, altered my consciousness. Heart and mind opened to transcendence as the setting sun washed me in golden light.

Feelings began to stir, emotions I hadn’t felt since leaving fundamentalism twenty-three years earlier. Cynicism and drama evaporated, revealing peace. A wholeness united the narratives of my life, mending the frayed pieces. I reveled in the divine dance, a player in the sacred drama of the human story. A sense of homecoming flooded my soul with joy.

Grateful that the sojourn through my own spiritual desert had lasted only slightly more than twenty years instead of the forty allotted to Moses, I entered the promised land. As in the T.S. Elliot quote, I returned for the first time and found my spiritual home, of all places, in a Goddess-centered Pagan ritual.

Sweet serenity echoed feelings I remembered from my Church of God childhood, but there was one big difference. The goddess didn’t demand that I reject my intellectual integrity.

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