My name is Faerie Mist ... how I came to have that name I will tell later in this story. I think in my heart I have always been Wiccan, though it wasn't until around 5 years ago that I became aware of my belief system as an actual reigion.
I'd aways performed small, informal rituals, with no real knowledge of what I was doing, I just let the words, the energies, flow out of me from some deep, hidden well I'd never truly acknowledged. I'd always honored the earth, I'd sung and chanted and erected altars I didn't know were altars, small groupings of objects I felt a connection to.
I'd sit for hours staring up at the desert sky, trying desperately to reconcile my own feelings and my own truth with the dogma and calculated information fed me by my religious family and church. Having no choice in the matter, I went to church and sunday school, I was baptized and took communion, but it was like I was role-playing, none of it rang true for me.
In my search for answers, I asked questions, which as anyone raised in organized religion knows, is the mark of a sinner to the church. I was branded a trouble-maker when I commented on the fact that the bible says judge not, yet at every turn the elders were judging-gays, abortionists, and yes, witches.
I was labeled a heathen when I asked why it was that masturbation was considered as much a sin as premarital sex when you were simply giving yourself pleasure, as you would when you indulged in a hot fudge sundae, or a walk in the park on a spring day. I then became a virtual pariah when I dared to question the very institution of marriage. If two people were truly in love and wished to express that love, wouldn't a loving god glory in the act, not condemn them? Why was the blessing of a priest or minister required when, to me, love itself was all the blessing needed?
And so it was that I found myself surrounded by a circle of wild-eyed fanatics "laying hands" on me and casting out the demons they insisted had possessed my soul. For a 13 year old child it was a frightening experience, but I was firm in my beliefs and it was at that point that I divorced myself completely from organized religion and began my quest for answers and the truth that I knew had to exist, else why would I feel so different from everyone I knew, why was it so hard for me to accept what the church demanded was truth when no one else seemed to realize how ridiculous it sounded?
It was another six years before, by chance, I met my first witch. She was the cousin of my best friend, and we became instant friends, spending long nights together, she teaching me, myself soaking up every drop of information, knowing with every word she spoke that this was me, this was the truth, the reality I'd so desperately searched for. I began to see connections to my past, things I'd overlooked that now took on glaring importance. My long fascination with Celtic myth, faeries, merlin, King Arthur and elves. The small slips of memory I didn't understand as a child I now know were past life recollections, and the "angels" I saw were most likely faeries or my spirit guides.
I'd never felt so alive, like a lost child coming home at last. I could barely contain my excitement and I embraced Wicca and all it stood for wholeheartedly. This was me, this was mine,I was finally whole. Of course, after such an epiphany comes the real work ... the nitty-gritty nuts and bolts of being a Wiccan.
I studied with Tobie for about six months before she moved away. I wasn't comfortable with my ability to practice Wicca, so I continued my studies on my own. I discovered I had a talent for Runes. The spirits and the Goddess seemed to be attuned to my energy and receptive to my efforts to learn and, through much meditation, they helped me, lending me their knowledge.
Still it was about a year and a half before I felt I knew what I needed in order to perform as a Solitary. Then, after several months of simply honoring the Goddess, I discovered MY Goddess, the one who was my other half, my kindred. And so we come to how I got my name.
The Morrigan began coming to me slowly at first, in dreams and during meditation her name would pound in my head. I had no idea who she was, so I took the name and went surfing on the net, hoping to find something to help me understand what was going on. At least two dozen sites popped up and the more I read about her, this Goddess of so many contrasting aspects, I realized that I had been shown my patron Goddess. Queen of the Faerie, Moon Goddess, Goddess of war and revenge and fierce protectress of witches, Banshee Crone and Mother Goddess ... I could feel such a connection.
Over the next two years I slowly formed a relationship with her, through meditation and dreams and ritual...she is often known only for her dark aspects, but as with everything in the universe, she is also a balance ... she is fiercely protective of those who walk her path, and yet she will also give me a kick in the ass when it is required.
I performed my self-dedication at Imbolc of 1998 ... but I was disappointed that I still hadn't been shown my magickal name. Just after Ostara, I awoke one morning, around 4:30 or so, and went out on my balcony to sit by the faerie garden I'd planted there. I stepped out into the cool darkness and was met by a thick fog. Now, as you all well know, it's too dry in Tucson in April to create even a thin mist, let alone this fog so thick I couldn't see the next building less than ten feet away.
I knew immediately that this was no ordinary fog and sat down to await the sign I felt sure was coming. After a long time, they began to come. They being the Fae..dozens of them, flitting around the garden I'd planted and dedicated to them, zipping up to my face and then away again before I got a good look.
Now, this is hardly something that happens every day with me, but strangely I wasn't afraid or even too shocked ... it felt natural. Through the fog I heard, or felt actually, a voice, a name repeating softly. Faerie Mist, and I knew it wasn't a desciption of what was happening around me, it was a name ... my name.
The sun began to rise then, chasing away the mist and the Fae, and for an instant I caught a glimpse of her, Morrigan. I coudn't see her face, but I remember her hair, wild and free, the color of the sunrise itself, red and gold and bronze..all streamed together. And that is how I knew that she had accepted me, I was her child, a priestess of her path ... my path now.
Blessings,
Fae
Faerie Mist
How did I come to this Path (Main Page)
