No-Pattern Wing-it Chemise Tutorial Part 2

If you followed along with me last time, you should have nine pieces that don't resemble a chemise: a front piece and a back piece, two identical sleeves, four identical sleeve gussets, and a front facing. Now it's time to sew everything together! I'm calling this my Wing-it Chemise because I really am just guessing at the whole thing. While I can follow a sewing pattern, I feel like I sew better this way.

Part of my costume research involved learning about Elizabethan seams. Generally and in a nutshell, each separate piece would be hemmed around all edges and then the appropriate edges would be whip-stitched together. I am using a sewing machine for this as I just don't have time to do it all by hand, but we can get the basic look of Elizabethan seams (and increase the life of our garment) with a machine too. If you have an overlock machine and want to skip hemming the seams for the Elizabethan look, go for it. I'm using a half inch seam allowance unless otherwise noted. 

First and with right sides together, sew the long, straight edge of the sleeves to the 10 inch diagonal cut on the front piece. Leave about half an inch at the bottom of this seam (where the front piece turns towards the rest of the body) unsewn to make adding the gusset easier.

Pin the front piece to the sleeve, along that 10 inch triangle we cut off for shaping.

Sew! 1/2 inch seam allowance.

Pin the gusset to the base of this seam, one edge will be on the body piece and one on the sleeve piece with the point of the gusset where the shoulder seam ends. Work slowly here, and sew the gusset to the body and sleeve - take care to make sure the fabric is flat on the bottom with as few little folds or accidental darts as possible. You will probably have at least one accidental dart, but that's okay.

Pinning the sleeve gusset. The center point should be at the base of the shoulder seam.

Sewing the gusset. Work slow, make sure you don't have any wrinkles underneath.

This is what the shoulder seam and two gusset seams looks like from the front.
There is a tiny dart in there. These are bound to happen.

To achieve the Elizabethan seam look, press these seams open, turn under the raw edges and press again, then straight stitch down the folds. Work slowly here as well, making sure you are as close to the edge of the fold as possible without going off. I suggest sewing the part of the seam that faces towards the gussets and the shoulder seams at this step. Leave the rest of the gusset seams (the part that would be sewn to the sleeve piece and body piece) for later.

Open the seams and fold under the raw edge. Sew slowly on the fold.

This is about what an Elizabethan seam looks like from the front.

Finishing gusset seams. Only work in towards the gusset for now.
We'll take care of that other half of the seam later.

Repeat these steps on the other three sleeve edges. I found that completing one side at a time made it easier to fumble around with all that fabric. I sewed the sleeves onto the front piece first and then to the back one at a time, finishing seams as I went along. Be careful that your garment doesn't get all twisted up. Take your time to make sure you really do have right sides together and are matching the correct sleeve side to the correct front or back shoulder.

You now have a vaguely dress-shaped, open-sided tube. Good job!

A vaguely dress-shaped thing that is way too big!

Next, let's handle the front facing. I took a lot of pictures for this part to help you through, so I'm going to put it in its own post. Come back next time!

No-Pattern Wing-it Chemise Tutorial Part 1

Spring is fast approaching (though not fast enough!) and with it comes the start of my Renaissance Festival seasons! The first is at the end of April, the little faire my work puts on for the third year running. We have some great performers coming out this year, and I might even get a chance to train a cast! Right after that is the Virginia Renaissance Faire. I'm not actually working it this year because of Poppyseed. May-ish is the start of my third trimester, you see, and the potential for dehydration is just too great. That being said, I still plan to go once or twice. And then there is the Maryland Renaissance Festival in the fall. I'm also not working there this year, as it will be right after Poppyseed is born and I just can't promise the time. I was hoping to bring Poppyseed around, but Beloved and I discussed it and determined that it's way too dangerous for a couple-month old. That doesn't mean that I can't still visit for a bit if I get the chance.

All of this means I need some new garb! Nothing in my current faire wardrobe is going to fit in April and May and I'm probably not going to be back to my size in September or October yet either. I want an outfit that can grow with me, shrink down to a post-baby me, and maybe even open up for breast feeding. I don't have anything like that in my current closet, so I'm going to have to make it. I used what I had and what I've researched and what I've seen other people wear at historical faires to base this design: which will be a chemise and a front lace kirtle. I have a pattern that will need adapting for the kirtle, but nothing for the chemise. I'm calling this my Wing-it Chemise. Follow along with me!

Now, I have a lovely chemise in my closet that probably would fit a pregnant belly and can be pulled over the shoulders (or lower for breastfeeding), but the fabric is a little sheer and I'd definitely need a full-coverage overdress to protect my modesty. Not wanting to make a full-coverage overdress that does all the things I need maternity garb to do, I decided on just an opaque chemise, based on this sheer one I currently have. I picked this lovely teal linen blend. It may be hot in the spring, but I think I can open it up enough to get some air flow going, and I plan to make it very generous in size - probably more than I need - which will also help for the air flow.

Start with 4 yards of 51 inch linen

Measure the existing garment.

The first step is to measure the components of the chemise I have. It has an elastic neckline which makes this a little difficult, but not too bad. Yes, I plan to use elastic for the new chemise too. No, it's not period, but it will serve my purpose. The bottom hem is 96 inches total with two side seams, so 48 inches seam to seam with a front and a back piece. Shoulder to hem is also about 48 inches (near as I can tell from the elastic). So, I need two 48 x 48 square pieces of fabric for the front and back, not accounting for seam allowance, elastic neckline, or hem. The width of my linen is 51 inches, and I cut two pieces 50 inches long.

Cut two for body, for front and back.

Next, I measured the sleeves. This was also difficult as the top of the sleeve was part of the elastic neckline, and the cuff also had elastic. The sleeve was about 24.5 inches from neckline to cuff, so I cut my linen 30 inches long to have some extra to work with for adding elastic. I made a mistake at this next part, I measured the width of the sleeve, but I didn't stretch out the gauzy material. I cut my linen 18 inches wide, which falls short of the 22 inches in the original by quite a bit. I think it will still fit around my arms, but it won't be as loose as I want it. Not perfect, but it will work. With elastic at the cuffs, I'll still be able to push the sleeves up to my elbows for air if I need it.

Cut two for sleeves, left and right.

Once I realized that the sleeves aren't the width of my original, I thought it would be best to add a gusset under the arms for some more room. This style of gusset comes from a pattern I found for a smock made from an existing 16th century garment. Cut two squares, about 6 inches, and then cut them along the diagonal, so you are left with 4 triangles.

Cut two 6x6 squares for gussets...

...and then cut those on the diagonal to make 4 triangles.

The chemise has a bit of fitting around the shoulder seams and I think that's very important for the shape. I'm not following this fitting exactly, but I'll fudge it a little bit. I cut off a triangle from all four top corners of the front and back pieces, about 9x5x10 inches (where 10 is the length of the cut) for shape.

Four cuts here, one on each top corner of the front and back pieces, for shaping around the shoulders.

Since I also want to be able to open up for breastfeeding, I knew I needed a slit and probably some lacing in the middle of the front piece. There is a small slit in my existing chemise, but it is only about 6 inches from the neckline. I think a full 10 inches will serve me better. This part took some noodling. Assuming I'll need 3 inches for the elastic neckline (folding over an inch and a half to create a small ruffle and the channel for the elastic will eat up 3 inches from the edge), I cut a 13 inch slit down the front.

A slit down the front.

In order to hem this edge, I'll need to add a small facing piece. I cut a piece 3x12 inches and 10.5 inches down the middle. I'll get to how this piece works when we start sewing. [IMPORTANT NOTE! Later, I extend this front facing because it's too short. Cut your piece 3x15 to skip the extra step!]

One small piece for the front slit.

And that's all the cutting! DO NOT THROW AWAY YOUR SCRAPS! We might need some extra pieces as we work, so hold on to those bits! If you're following along, you should have nine pieces of fabric: two front and back pieces (identical except for the front slit), two identical sleeves, four identical sleeve gussets, and one small front facing. Next time, sewing it all together!

All the cut pieces!

One More Thing

I've been trying to get you, dear readers, all caught up on the past few months. Lots of exciting things have been happening and I have been busy dealing with that rather than writing. I always promise I'll do better, and usually do for a little bit. I can't promise that this time. You see...

It's true!

I'm feeling fine at the moment. I'm tired of getting up in the night every few hours to use the bathroom. I'm starting to get some heartburn. I still have bouts of nausea, but not actually vomiting. All that being said, I kinda love being pregnant! More than that, I love that it means my beloved husband and I will welcome a new little life into our family this summer. Everyone has a silly nickname for their growing baby. We call ours Poppyseed, because that's the size she was when we found out she was there. She's way bigger than a poppy seed now, but I'm not going to start calling her turnip!

A little 16 week bump

This is me at 16 weeks. Not much of a baby bump yet, but it's there. Still lots more growing to do. Pregnancy isn't really nine months by the way they count it, it's really more like ten months (40 weeks). We're almost halfway! Some new blood sample screening told us that we're at a low risk for chromosome disorders and we're having a girl. There is a chance this screening could be wrong on all levels, but they're usually pretty reliable. My beloved really wants a girl, so I'm very happy he'll get to experience that special bond between dads and daughters, like I have with my dad.

Live Long and Prosper

This is my very first baby picture! Lookit! I'm Vulcan! But the really special thing is that I still have that dress. I put it on my Cabbage Patch babies as a little girl until I saw this picture and realized that dress was mine. I put it on a little hanger and stashed it in the back of my closet with my Christening gown, which I also still have. No, I'm not a fan of pink and, yes, that dress is pink. I don't care. The fact that my first dress might be my daughter's first dress too is just more awesome than I have words!

So, I think that's everything. All caught up!

A Magical Honeymoon

Our honeymoon did not start off magical. We were flying out of DC on Sunday night, the day after the wedding. They had some silly mechanical problem that delayed us an hour and a half, so we were arriving in Boston while our plane to Dublin was taking off. We wandered around the airport for a good 2 hours (including waiting for shuttles to take us to other parts of the airport) trying to figure out what to do. First we went to the Aer Lingus desks, but they were all gone for the day. Then we went to information who told us to head back to baggage claim and find out where our luggage is. We found out that Aer Lingus had our luggage locked away and put us on the next flight across the pond at 6 pm the next day - 21 hours after the flight we were supposed to be on. They finally got a manager who got us a hotel room and a couple overnight packs of things like toothpaste and a toothbrush and deodorant. We had to make a 2 minute call to the hotel in Dublin to let them know we were going to be a day late and please don't give our room away. That call cost $14.

Monday morning! It's kinda sucky to be promised Dublin and get Boston. We checked out, took the free shuttle back to the airport (where the Aer Lingus people probably wouldn't be in until 3 or 4), took the free shuttle to the train station in the city, found a place in the bus terminal to check our carry ons ($20) and wandered around Boston Common in the rain. We only had a few hours to kill, so we didn't do much but walk around. We collected our bags and paid for the bus back to the airport where we were finally able to check in. It wasn't a fun day, really. I know it wasn't Boston's fault, but the experience hasn't really warmed me up to that city. We're going to take a weekend to really explore Boston someday, when we have no where else to go and hopefully when it's less wet. And now we're finally on the plane and off to Dublin!

Tuesday morning lands in Dublin! We confirmed our reservation for the car and found a bus that took us close to the hotel. The hotel was nice; it was really an apartment with a little kitchen and living room, and a separate bedroom. We napped for a couple hours and hit the streets. We wandered about a bit- found a church that was near the hotel that made a good landmark and walked pass the Christ Church Cathedral (a friendly local with an amazingly thick accent guessed that was where we were headed and pointed us that way. We were really just looking at the map to get our bearings, but it was nice someone offered to help all the same.) before making our way to the Old Jameson Distillery. As a whiskey lover, I really wanted to see that place! On the tour, the guide picked 8 people to do a comparison taste test with Jameson, Johnny Walker Black, and Jack Daniels. Jameson was definitely the best, and I say that completely independent of the fact that I was in a Jameson museum at the time (Makers Mark 64 is still my favorite whiskey, for the record). 

Illuminated Jameson

We headed to Trinity College and the Book of Kells exhibit in the Old Library after that. It was amazing, and that library seriously belongs in a fairy tale castle. We wandered after that and got thoroughly lost. We ended up in a very residential area and all the helpful tourist signs were no where to be seen! We wandered some more and realized that we were heading in the wrong direction (we had walked completely off our map!). Both of us had to pee really bad. We finally saw a church spire and headed for it, hoping it was the church near our hotel. At a glance it looked like it. We stopped in a pub for their bathroom and a pint (no restrooms without purchase!) then went out to the church and realized it wasn't the one by the hotel after all. However, we were back in the touristy area and there was a map that directed us back to the right church.

The Old Library at Trinity College

We dropped off the days purchases and the big fancy camera at the hotel and went out for dinner. We found a place in Temple Bar (big touristy place, but a lot of fun) and had an awesome dinner. According to an app on my phone, we walked 10 miles that day! Yay, adventure!

A Delicious meal after a day of adventure!

Because of the lost day on Monday, we decided to make our trip out west a day trip instead of a two night trip, so we got our hotel room for two more nights and were picking up the car Wednesday morning. The hotel had a garage too, so it was very convenient to park for a day.

Wednesday! Neither of us got up before noon even though my husband was planning on picking up the car around 8 or 9. That didn't happen. He got back around 3 or so and we headed out to lunch and the Guinness Storehouse. While we were headed in what we thought was the right direction, I asked to check the map and another friendly local with a less thick accent asked if we were looking for Guinness and pointed to the sign where we needed to turn (seriously, the people in Ireland were awesome everywhere). Almost there, we ran into some people who asked us if we were from here because they were looking for something. "No, but we have a map," we say. "It wouldn't be on the map," they say, "we're looking for the oldest pub in Ireland." They meant the Brazen Head, and it was right across the road where we had lunch. Yay, I can help like a local!

The Brazen Head, Ireland's Oldest Pub

The Museum closes at 7, so we didn't have a lot of time to go through the self-guided tour. We did manage to make it for the last Guinness tasting of the night and the last 'pour the perfect pint' class. That place was pretty neat, even though we only saw half of it. It was pouring rain by the time we got out so we picked up dinner at Subway (I know, I know!) and headed back to the hotel for the night.

Pouring the Perfect Pint

Put yourself in a Guinness ad!

Thursday! Up early for a good ole Irish breakfast (Irish bacon is some serious bacon!) then we hit a convenience store for supplies and started driving. We rented a GPS with the car which ended up being awesome. We had to look up how to get the car in reverse though, because husband insisted on a manual transmission. The only problem with the drive west was the fog. It was so thick we probably only had 10 yards of visibility, if that, and that wasn't much at highway speeds. We didn't see the toll plaza until we were right up on it. Thankfully, there were not a lot of cars on the road. We got to Galway and walked for about 30 minutes (which was the length of time at the parking space we found).

Serious Fog

It was impossible to see anything with that fog that seemed to just stick to us out of Dublin. No beautiful countryside: all fog. I really wanted to see the Cliffs of Moher, though, so we started driving south from Galway, even though we probably wouldn't be able to see anything at all in this fog. I came to the conclusion along that drive that Ireland has one weather for the whole island - that day it was fog. Did I mention the fog? Fog. Really fog. Everywhere fog. We drove up this little mountain that defined hair pin turn, it was a little unnerving. Yay, adventure. At this point in the drive, I was reflecting on some of the other countries I have visited: like the moment in Paris where I put my hand on a wall of Notre Dame Cathedral and almost started crying. I was thinking about our trip to Ireland, the one place in the world I want to see more than any other, and we had seen some very fun things, but I didn't have a moment like that - where it was suddenly real and it was suddenly magical that I was actually there. Why was this place, where I most wanted to be, not like that? Then we crested a little hill and the fog was gone. GONE! Rolling hills! Mountains in the distance! Sheep! Cottages! The Atlantic Ocean! The Aran Islands! You could see the fog behind us but the way ahead was clear, clear, clear. Clear and beautiful. And I had my magical moment. 

Suddenly, no fog! Just look at that countryside!

We got to the Cliffs and the guy at the gate was all "it's a really beautiful, clear day!" and we were like, "we know, we just came out of the fog!" and he laughed and said usually it's the opposite, foggy at the cliffs and clear everywhere else. There was a little exhibit thing inside one of the buildings about the cliffs and the ecosystem there and it was all very neat, but I was worried the fog would catch up to us so we didn't spend a lot of time inside. The view over the Atlantic was awesome. We could see the fog rolling in over the Aran Islands. Ravens were flying. I'm so glad we went. I'm so glad we weren't defeated by the fog and changed our mind about trying the cliffs that day. Yay, adventure!

The Cliffs of Moher, County Clare

Just as we were leaving, the fog caught up. It made for a not so fun drive back, through Shannon and Limerick, in the dark and fog and rain. We picked up a pizza (I know! But pizza with bacon on it in Ireland has Irish bacon on it! Divine!) for dinner once we got back to Dublin because we were tired and didn't want to get dolled up and go out again.

At the Cliffs of Moher, before the fog caught up to us!

Friday! Last morning in Ireland. Very sad. It was kind of rainy, but less foggy. We had talked about walking around for one last bit, and I thought about hitting the Distillery gift shop once more, but decided against it lest we get lost again. We did walk to the convenience store by the church for travel snacks and then headed to the airport. We had to turn the car in at noon but our flight wasn't until 5. The airport in Dublin is awesome in that you can go through US Customs right there before leaving, making landing stateside way convenient. We did some duty free shopping (because what else are we going to do waiting around the airport?). The flight back was a little irritating. There were many more people than on the flight over (where there were hardly any) and this one lady who was sitting in front of me reclined her seat and then moved to the seat next to husband which was a little closer to her family - without putting her seat up! RUDE!!! Husband likes to tell people that she was coughing and hacking the whole flight and "thanks for sitting next to me with that." Yay, adventure.

So, we land back in Boston. They wouldn't let us get out of the plane for 20 minutes because of congestion in the terminal. Boston Logan, not a fun place. The way this worked, since Aer Lingus is not a US carrier, we had to leave the international area and go back in the domestic area. We were worried that security would give us trouble with our duty free purchases (whiskey!) even though they were in a sealed bag with the date of purchase on the receipt clearly visible. There was a bit of a delay there, but we got through. We checked at US Airways to make sure our luggage was going to be on our flight. The guy looked confused as to why we would bother to ask (because you loaded it on a different flight on the way out and we wanted to make sure it would go through to DC with us) but said it would be on the flight with us.

Back to DC! We head to baggage claim! Our flight was on the monitors, but it didn't list a carousel number- that was blank. So we wandered through baggage claim for a bit and see nothing coming out. Husband went to ask where our luggage was while I waited. The announcement said something about a flight coming in from Tampa would be on carousel 7, and a bunch of people gathered, then another traveler came up to them and said the bags from Tampa were coming out on 11, though everyone heard 7. This does not bode well. Husband said they told him our luggage was coming out on 12, so we waited. Luggage came and people went and there we were, waiting. Waiting, for like an hour. We suddenly realized there was like no one in the baggage claim area. There was a couple to our left and a handful of people at the end of the hall. And no luggage. So husband asked again and they said carousel 12 and he said, no, we were there and our bags were not. They scanned the tag and said our bags got loaded on the flight after ours that was just landing. *headdesk* Ours were the first two bags on carousel 12 that time. The lesson: if you ever have to fly US Airways, please for the love of all things living, do not check your luggage. Do not trust your bags with them. They don't care when they show up. Bags in hand, we met MIL who drove us to her home where we left our car and then we drove the rest of the way. Yay home!

Yay, adventure!

(For the record, I will never fly US Airways again. We lost an entire day of our honeymoon and the only thing they could think to offer us in recompense is a single $100 voucher - that we can't even share! Some prodding finally got two vouchers out of them, with a ton of conditions, but the delay still cost us more than $200 to adjust our travel plans for the lost day. Seriously, dear readers, US Airways, which is owned by American Airlines, is dreadful. They don't care if they cause you inconvenience or to lose a day of your vacation and they won't make good on it. Think twice before you book with them. And if you have to book with them, for the love of cats and little fishes, do not check your luggage. Carry everything with you. Trust me here.)

A Picture-Perfect Day

Due to my serious lack of updating, I have yet to post about my wedding! It was a rather frigid day on November 15, 2014. It wasn't so bad outside in the sun, but in the barn for the reception was downright cold. We brought everyone back to the house for crazy karaoke and celebration with actual warmth. Really, even with the cold, it was a perfect day. 

All photos below are by the lovely and talented Rachel of Patchie [Photography].

 

Yes, my dad wore his kilt. I expected nothing less!

 

We exchanged swords as part of our ceremony. It was fantastic!

My dear friend Fox was our minister.

Swords in the ceremony gave us this awesome opportunity for a sword arch!

I have nothing to say about this picture. I don't know if one of us said something funny or we just have reason to smile!

Truth be told, we have some good-looking friends!

A picture-perfect day. The swords went along with our Skyrim-esque theme.

We danced to "How Long Will I Love You," by the Waterboys, covered by by Jon Boden, Sam Sweeney, and Ben Coleman (from the About Time soundtrack).

Supplicant

I know it has been a while since I updated, and so very much has happened in my life since then. I got married, we had a wonderful honeymoon in Ireland. I was going to talk about those things and even started writing not too long ago, but something else came up.

Early on in my path, Artemis was my matron goddess. I listened to her teachings for years and, when she had showed me everything I needed to see in that time of my life, she left me on my own. It was unnerving, to be without that connection to the Goddess that I had had for so long. Another matron wouldn't call me for years. I have a new and different relationship with the Goddess now, with a new matron who is teaching me so much more. (I'm about to run off on a tangent here describing my view of the gods and how I may use different names but It is still One, like sometimes I need my mother to be my mother and sometimes I need her to be my friend, but that's a subject for another time.)

Something has come up in my life (that I am not yet ready to share on the vast interwebs) that reminded me of an aspect of Artemis I had forgotten, and I suddenly had a need to beseech her for support. Those of you who know me well know I don't "pray" in my practice though, the truth is, I do. I may get hung up on the word, but that is exactly what I do when I commune with the Divine. So, for lack of a better word, I prayed to Artemis. It was like reconnecting with an old friend - the one you haven't spoken to in years but, when you get together, it's like no time has passed at all.

The thing about asking for things (support, intervention, whatever) from the Divine is that It doesn't just give. There must be an exchange, there always must be an exchange of energy to keep balance. Artemis heard what I needed and told me exactly what I needed to do for her and for me.

Last year, I acquired a beautiful, handmade longbow. It didn't get any use, though I intend to set up some targets when the weather is more conducive to it. And, since we built a pell (that's a post for sword training) to practice with our ceremonial wedding swords, an archery target will fit right in. Anyway, I'm supposed to oil that longbow monthly to keep it pliant. I have the oil that the maker recommends, but I haven't actually done it. What Artemis asked of me in return was simple: oil my bow.

And I promised.

This word is important. I made a promise in that moment. I promised the Goddess I would do what she asked of me, and I promised myself. How many times have we made those promises and not followed through? Something little, like promising the cats I would trim their claws tomorrow and just felt too lazy to do it when the time came. This isn't the first time I promised myself I would oil my bow either. I take my word to others seriously, but my word to myself is less reliable. Why in the world is that? I will honor others before I honor myself. But myself is the one that is always here with me. How many times have you let yourself down? Made a promise - even a simple, seemingly meaningless promise - to yourself and not done it? Stop doing that. Hold yourself to your word, it is just as valuable to you as it is to the people around you when you give it to them. This is important. The moment I thought it, I knew that was also something She asked of me. It's time to keep my word to everyone, even me.

Yesterday was the day. I promised I would oil my bow and I promised when. It struck me that this wasn't just a thing I was doing, it was a thing I promised the Goddess I would do. That meant it wasn't a matter of just grabbing a cloth and doing it, it needed ritual. I brought the supplies to my altar, lit my candles and incense, and cast my circle, like you do for ritual, and I oiled my bow - deliberately, purposefully, and in sacred space. And it wasn't about what I had asked Artemis to do for me, it was about fulfilling a promise. There was something so satisfying in that moment, sitting before my altar doing this simple, otherwise non-magical act.

It had been so long since I actually sat at my altar (planning to but not actually doing, I suppose another of those promises to myself I didn't keep) that I stayed there for some time after the task was done. I started working on a charm that was waiting for the right moon phase (surprise, we're in it!). I added some decorations to the front of my table I had been planning for weeks. That little corner of the house that has been dedicated my sacred space hasn't been used for a while and I needed it.

Leaves on the altar!

At the risk of throwing something in here that needs its own post, it is not correct to say my altar and the sacred space around it has been entirely unused for a while. I did start something that I hope to continue. Communion with the Divine should not just be asking for something. I know there are things in my life that the Divine sent to me that I did not expressly ask for. I have started leaving offerings. It is usually burning incense, thanking the Lord and Lady for their presence in my life, and going about my day. Not asking for anything from them, but giving back. Some might ask exactly how burning incense is an offering to the gods. In part, it is the thing that is consumed, but a larger part of it is the action. The very act of lighting a stick or cone or charcoal and expressing gratitude is the offering. This is something I will continue to do as it is also extremely satisfying to come before my gods not as a supplicant but in tribute. But, again, that's not why I'm writing today.

The reason I wrote about this is to urge you to consider your promises and how often you break them. The little ones, the promises to yourself, they are just as important as the promises you make to others. Think about that as you go through your days.

Dumb Supper

The Dumb Supper has been one of my favorite autumnal rituals since I first learned about it nearly twenty years ago. I consider it an autumnal ritual because I most often hold it around the time of Samhain, but it can actually be done at any time at all. It is sometimes called a Silent Supper, because many people forget that dumb means "silent or mute" or a Backwards Supper, because the meal courses are served in reverse order. Some traditions use it as a divination ritual, to learn about the future from the spirits of the dead, and some as a seance, to give messages to and receive messages from the spirits of the dead. To me, it is communion; an act of sharing a meal, in itself a sacred ritual the world over, with the spirits of the dead. So, for me, the purpose of the meal is to invite the spirits of our loved ones who have passed to spend some time and share a meal with us. Even if no one comes, a place is set for them. It can also be used to commune with your gods rather than the spirits of the deceased. In this way, you are not asking for anything, but more inviting them to table to thank them for their involvement in your life.

My Dumb Supper is a ritual of my own design, based on research and information I have found from other traditions. I try to do one every year (if not on or around Samhain, some other time of the year is fine; the period between Samhain and Yule is best for me. Beltane is also a good choice.) but it has been a while since I was able to. Now that things have settled down and my life has picked a direction and started on it, it's time to bring this ritual back into my tradition.

Preparation

Before you start cooking and setting the dining area, you should bathe (many rituals start with cleansing). If you are invited to a Dumb Supper, bathe before you leave. You can wear your ritual garb or nice dinner attire, black would not be amiss.

The dining area (this can be the every day table or the formal table) is thoroughly cleaned and smudged. I like to curtain it off, to physically separate it from the rest of the space, but that is not always possible. The table is dressed with a black cloth, and a black cloth is draped over the seat at the head of the table; this is the Spirit Chair. The table is set with black plates and utensils if possible, your finest tableware if not, and all seats, including the Spirit Chair, get a place setting. Utensils, cups, and side dishes are placed on the opposite side than where you would normally put them (this is one of the 'backwards' bits). Window curtains are drawn and black candles are set out on the table and around the room if necessary - they will be the only source of light. It is helpful to include things like salt and pepper and pitchers of whatever the beverage is set along the table so every diner is in reach of the things he or she might need without having to ask for them. Labels that identify what things are might help, also place cards so people can find their seats easily, if that is necessary. I cast a sacred circle around the dining area after the table is set. It is sacred space and no one should enter it until the ritual has begun (it could be argued that the ritual has already begun with your cleansing, as the preparations should be performed in mindfulness, so I'll say no one should enter before the meal is ready to be served). The setting of the table and preparation of sacred space is done before guests arrive.

The meal itself can be as many courses as you like, but it should be at least three - soup/salad/appetizer, main course, and dessert. A potluck would be fine. I tend to precede it with a fast. Many traditions recommend preparing food that was favored by the deceased, but don't concern yourself with that if you can't think of anything in particular, or if you are holding your Dumb Supper to honor your gods.

Beginning

You are allowed to speak outside of the ritual space, but the mood should be somber and mindful. Once the meal begins, you do not speak until indicated, whether you are within the ritual space or not. I use a bell to indicate the start and end of the silent period of the ritual. When the bell is rung, it is time to be silent and wait for instructions from your host (a good host will tell you what to expect before the silent period).

Some suppers might include writing messages to your loved ones. You will share them with no one. Write them before the silent period begins and take them with you into the sacred space. If messages are in your ritual, be sure to put a fire proof container, such as a cauldron, at the place setting of the Spirit Chair. The messages will be lit with a nearby candle and placed in the cauldron at the appointed time.

When the bell is rung, no more talking. Turn your phone off (please don't even bring it into the sacred space). All electronic lights should be turned off and curtains drawn so unnatural light does not bleed into the dining area (as much as can be helped. My last home had a bright street lamp right in front and it didn't matter how closed the blinds were, there was always light from it). Your host may ask you to turn off a light or light a candle at the start of the silent period to help out: do this when the bell is rung. The host and designated helpers, if any, will bring the food into the ritual space at this time. Some traditions say to put the food on a side table, I say work with what you have. It has worked perfectly fine to have the food on the dining table, so people may take seconds if they want, as long as they remain in the current course.

The Ritual Meal

When the food is laid out, the host will indicate that it is time to enter the sacred space and take your seats. Remember, we're already in the silent period of the ritual, so you have to pay attention. Perhaps there will be another bell rung or some other audible but non-spoken cue. As you enter the space, walk around the room counterclockwise, stop at the Spirit Chair (even if you have to pass your own seat first) and give it a silent blessing or thanks or otherwise (silently!) acknowledge the role that the spirits/gods play in this ritual, then continue counterclockwise around the room to your seat and sit down.

When everyone is seated, join hands and bless your meal silently. The host will then serve the first course: dessert (remember, backwards!). The Spirit Chair is served first, followed by the guests youngest to oldest. No one eats until everyone is served. Before the silent period, the host should have told you what to do to indicate you are done with that course, it could be putting your napkin over your plate (usually this is reserved for the end) or moving your dessert plate out of the way. If you wish a second helping, serve yourself (but remember there is more meal). When everyone has finished with the first course, the host will serve the second: the main dish and any sides, in the same order. Again, serve yourself if you want more, and you should already know what to do to indicate you are done. Once again, the host will serve the final course: soup/salad/appetizer, depending on what you're having. Put your napkin over your plate to indicate you are done (if this was the signal your host told you to do). Do not forget that the meal is taken in complete silence. No conversation!

When everyone has finished eating, it is time to give your messages, if your ritual involves messages. The host will indicate who begins (usually the same as served order). Go to the Spirit Chair and read your message (silently) if you wish, or silently tell the spirits/gods what you want them to know, light your paper and place it in the cauldron to burn. If you require assistance with this, the host should be there to help you. After you have placed your message in the cauldron, walk clockwise around the room and leave the sacred space. Do not speak while others perform this part of the ritual even though you are no longer in sacred space.

When the last person, usually the host, has delivered his message, the host and any designated helpers will reenter the sacred space to remove and package any leftover food, clear the table of dishes, extinguish candles in the dining area. The host will then ring the bell to indicate the silent period is over.

Ending

At this point, your ritual can carry whatever tone you want. It can be somber and reflective, it can be joyous and jovial. You can play music or tell stories or send everyone home. I have been to some suppers where the guests discuss their experience after the silent period ends. The meal left at the Spirit Chair can remain all night, though I have never been able to do this (cats would not leave it undisturbed). I take it out and give it to the Earth in offering.

If your Dumb Supper is a ritual of divination, where you are expecting to receive messages from the deceased, you may extend the silent period to include meditating and being ready to receive messages, or you may end the silent period as above and expect to receive messages at a later time -perhaps in dreams that night.

I find this ritual comforting, similar to visiting the grave of a loved one, a way to honor those who have passed and remember, and possibly tell them, what they meant to you.

A Question and an Answer

A friend of mine asked me what I thought of interfaithism. I had to look up the term and I couldn't find a single website that just gave me a definition. What I did find was a bunch of websites by some religious fundamentalists of a variety of faiths who think this mysterious 'interfaithism' thing is the end of the world- in a literal sense. So, the true answer to the question "what do I think of interfaithism" is "I don't."

What I could gather from these websites, that I could only describe as insulting at best, is that interfaithism is a word with negative connotations (from the fundamentalists screaming about Satan's tool or something) that is used now in place of interfaith dialogue. Interfaith dialogue, as we should know, is a wonderful thing where people who don't believe in the same things can still talk to, be civil to, and be accepting of each other.

Ah, found it. One such site actually had a definition for me: "the belief that all religions are valid pathways to God...spiritual truths can be found in all of the world's religions and that there is more than one path to heaven." Gees, to my mind, this sounds awesome, and what I've been saying for years. It's unfortunate that this concept is so threatening to so many... I'm finding this is largely a Christian threat. But, really, if all paths lead to the divine, why does that invalidate your path? "All paths" include yours, doesn't it? Why should you care what other people are doing at all?

Thomas Jefferson, while not a perfect man by any means, was a great proponent of religious liberty. In his famous Letter to the Danbury Baptists (the one that claimed the First Amendment to the Constitution built "a wall of separation between Church and State"), Jefferson opened with: "Believing with you that religion is a matter which lies solely between Man & his God, that he owes account to none other for his faith or his worship...." Think about that. Think about what kind of world we would live in if religion really was a matter which lies solely between man and his god, and not between man and his neighbor and his neighbor's god. That's the way it should be.

In fact, most of these beliefs that fear this interfaithism thing is going to destroy them also believe that they should have a personal relationship with God. So, why do they get a personal relationship and I don't? If you view God like a parent, do you have the same relationship with your Earthly father as your brother? How about the same as your mother? The same as his boss? No, you have a personal relationship with him, and everyone else has a different, personal relationship with him. The "Heavenly Father" is no different here.

If that means you find your own way to Him, so be it. That's the way personal relationships work. That's why you answer to deity about your faith and no one else.

If you know me at all, you know I cover my hair in public because my goddess asked me to. It's part of my personal relationship with her. You also know that I have friends all over the world and from so many different walks of life. I know Christians from Anglicans to Yehowists. Quakers, both Christian and non. I know Jews, Orthodox and Messianic. I know Muslims. I know Buddhists and Hindus. Pagans, Neopagans, Wiccans. Universal Life and Unitarians. I know agnostics and atheists. I don't know everyone. I haven't met any Jains, I don't know any Sikhs, but it's just a matter of time. Everyone is on their own path, even as a part of their larger groups, and I'd guess that the vast majority of them are content on their path. They followed the signs they were shown and found their way. It doesn't matter if that way is structured and there are thousands of people in the world walking that same path, or if they find themselves completely alone on a path no one has ever trodden before or will again.

See, that is the power of the divine. The divine knows you. It knows who you are and how you believe and what you need to thrive. It knows that you are perfectly unique and that many things in this hard life that It gave us simply don't work for everyone. It knows that the structured path of thousands may not be the one that makes your heart sing, but may in fact lead you away from It. It even knows if that structured path of thousands is exactly the path you need to be walking. The divine knows you and will show you the way if you ask for direction. Your way, the way that is unique to you, even if thousands of people are going that way or just you - the way that will help you build that personal relationship that It wants to have with you, because It knows you.  If you ask and It shows you nothing, maybe nothing is what you need. The divine has Its truths and knows that some people can just be told a thing to believe, but some need to see, and some need to feel, and some need to do. That is the way It made us; It knows how we work. To say that there is only one path limits the divine, and the divine has no limits.

So, if you're asking questions, keep asking. 

It was twenty years ago when I started asking. I was raised Roman Catholic, going to a Catholic high school, and seriously considered being a nun. When I asked if that was the right path for me, I was shown another way. I started on that path with some caution, because it was new and strange and different, and sometimes it went uphill, and sometimes it forked, and sometimes it turned abruptly and felt like I was going backwards but those little signs pointing out the way were always there and I trusted that. There were even little cul-de-sacs where I was meant to pick something up and turn around. My path now is a hodgepodge of things, a conglomeration of all I was shown, all I was told to pick up, everything I've learned. I know it's right because I feel it.

Now, I imagine there are some people who might accuse me of just making stuff up, but I no more did that than they just believed what they were told. I asked for guidance and it was given, and I knew it as well and any person ever knows that a prayer has been answered.

The divine is beautiful and It knows you in ways nothing else can. Trust in It. Ask for help and It will show you your way.

Archiving

Some of you may recall that I used to have a website at ThesaurusArcanum.com with a related blog. The website has long been closed and the blog hasn't been updated since 2009. Since I decided to consolidate all my musings into one place, I also figured I should archive that blog. Everything except for the weekly Tarot readings and any comments have been moved over, and you'll find them under their original posting dates and under the Thesaurus Arcanum label.

Going through those posts to archive them reminded me that there was a time when every day was a walk in my faith. Every Sabbat had a ritual, every Esbat had a spell or a blessing. I lost that feeling somewhere along the line, that dedication. In the years hence, I worked to bring it back, but I'm not all there yet. I'm in a good place, spiritually, right now. I'm giving thanks or sending blessings every morning, I'm remembering my chosen path daily. It's not where I was or where I want to be, but it's a good place.

I'm re-dedicating myself. For twenty years, I've been in charge of my own faith. There have been some years where I felt I embodied that dedication more than others and that's a fine place to be. But I can do more and I need to. For myself.

It was a good time to sit down with that old blog and reflect on where my path has taken me in the five years following.

We Should Talk

Since the suicide of Robin Williams, I've noticed a lot of people are talking about depression. Good. We should talk about it. It's one of the most common mental disorders in the United States, according to the National Institute of Mental Health, and still it is so hard for people who suffer from it to get the help they need.

It's a complicated disorder that is hard to treat. Not everyone responds to therapy, not everyone responds to medication. Every brain is different.  Part of that is because we don't fully understand what causes it. Another part of it is because the word depression is used far too liberally. Not incorrectly, I might add, but the fact that the word has a definition in common use (i.e. to feel depressed is to feel sad) has done a disservice to those who suffer from the disease that is depression. They are not the same thing. This bears repeating: feeling "depressed" and suffering from clinical depression are two different and entirely unrelated things. One is a feeling - the opposite of feeling elated - and one is a very serious mental disorder that goes so far beyond what one simply 'feels.' They are not related. It's unfortunate that they use the same word.

My friend Enid wrote on the subject again and she said something that I've found largely and disappointingly to be true, "But you know what's really fucking hard? Explaining depression to a loved one who doesn't understand it." We talked about this and agreed that it's awesome that someone does not know what depression is, but that makes it so hard to try to talk about what we're going through to someone who just doesn't get it. Maybe they can't separate the two uses of the word in their mind, which is usually what's going on when we're told to just get over it. It's painfully frustrating. You can just get over a feeling, but when something in your brain isn't working right, you can't just wish that away.

I came across this lovely and fun video (ignoring the irrelevant plug at the end) that talks a little about what is happening in the brain of a person with clinical depression. "It is important to remember that depression is a disease with a biological basis." Not a feeling. A biological disease.

Unfortunately, the more articles I see about depression and how something really must be done about treating it, the more people who can't separate the feeling from the medical condition come out too. It's not just my loved ones or Enid's loved ones but so many people in the world too. This means we have to fight so very hard to get by in a world that barely recognizes what is going on in our brains. But let's keep the conversations going. Maybe some day the people who have made up their minds about what depression is will learn something. Maybe then, more people will realize that those of us who suffer need more help.

It's like being trapped inside your own mind - as so many mental disorders are. That mind, your jailer, tells you you're worthless, you're loathsome, you don't deserve to be happy, no one cares for you and no one should, you're a waste of space and in everyone's way, and if you died the people around you would be better for it. It's all lies, we've talked about this before, but it's so loud it drowns out everything else. When that's the only voice you hear, you don't see them as the lies they are. You see them as the only truths you know. And that last one is the most dangerous thing your mind can ever tell you.

You can think of it like being in an abusive relationship. Your mind is your abuser, and it sets out to separate you from everyone else. Of course, if you've never been abused by someone you should be able to trust, it's hard to understand what they're going through too. I used to be one of them; one of those people who would say "just leave." 'Just leave' is like 'just get over it,' you can't and why you can't is complicated and hard to explain to someone who hasn't experienced it.  But that's another topic altogether.

We need to keep talking about this. We need more people to understand what is really going on, and more people to understand that you don't have to have a trigger event to suffer from it, and more people to realize how someone's mind can be their own enemy. I wish people didn't have to understand it, that there was no need for any of this at all, but it is not so.