THE CALLING

I am known by many names, and answer gladly to most of them. The first “coming of Age” title I bore was Mountain Nomad Woman, reduced to “mtnnomadwmn” for use in e-mail and screen name purposes. The latest were given to me at my first Pagan Family gathering three years ago. Another “newbie” and I were paired up, given 15 minutes to get acquainted, then introduced each other to the group. When asked “what plant is she?”, he immediately answered “an oak”. He said it was because I am strong enough to endure whatever the seasons bring, old, yet beautiful as only time and wisdom can make one, and young enough in heart and spirit to understand and teach the young ones. When I got home I went online to a site that listed old Celtic names and their meanings. I found my name immediately.............Athdara, meaning “from the oak”. For my Crone, or Grandmother, name, I asked “what comes from the oak?”, and thought “ACORNS”. And what do oaks come from? Acorns. From that day on, I have been Granny Acorn. I tried to be Athdara, but no one seemed able to remember, or connect the name to me. But Granny Acorn stuck, felt natural, and everyone seems to think it fits perfectly. And my website is Granny Acorn’s Place.

I am a Crone, or Elder, having reached the age of full maturity (57), according to the Clan Mothers, several years ago. I am 66 years old, and a grandmother in my own right, as well as a clan or tribal grandmother. I was named an Elder in Cherokee when I was 59, and received my Croning at my first Pagan gathering just before I turned 63. I have been a caregiver to both children and adults since I was a child, myself. I began caring for my younger brother and babysitting for neighborhood children when I was 11 years old. I did that until I was old enough to go to nursing school, where I became a “Practical Nurse” (that was before the days of LPNs, CNAs, etc.) and a Psych Tech, which means I had extended training to qualify me to work in psychiatric hospitals or psych wards in general hospitals. Later I took more courses to qualify in juvenile behavioral problems, mental retardation, Autism, and Altzheimers care. I got my first certification in April, 1964, and have continued in health care and foster parenting until 2005. I am now physically disabled so that I can no longer hold a public job, but I still counsel, teach, advise and just generally do what I do best.........be a granny. I am Scott-Irish and Indian (Cherokee, Yuchi, Choctaw and Blackfeet), and a lover of life in general. My great grandmother was a healer, or herb doctor, as they are called now. I suppose my health care carreer was an attempt to follow in her steps, and carry on the family tradition of being healers, “medicine folks”, etc. I also became a licensed and ordained minister, in order to better serve the spiritual needs of those who come to me for guidance. I am not a member of any fundamentalist Christian organization, but I do teach and advocate love, honor and respect for all livings, as they are gifts from, and therefore part of, Creator. I enjoy storytelling, teaching, and also learning more and more of my own background. I have received many lessons lately, some of them rather painful. I grew up in an abusive environment, and virtually every relationship in my life has been abusive to some degree or other. In addition to being abusive, my family were absolute control freaks, often trying to control, by force if necessary, my very thoughts. Because of these influences, I have become independent to the point of hating any kind of authority, and going absolutely balistic if I feel I am losing control, or having it taken from me, of even the smallest details of my life. I have been called a feminist, but that does not even begin to describe the fear and anger I feel toward any symbol of male dominance. Now I am being told by ONE who cannot be ignored or denied that I must learn the way of submission. Not enslavement. Not subservience. Not abuse. Submission to the natural order and balance of life and creation. Even THE LADY submits to HER Lord to maintain balance and creation. And if I am to serve HER, as SHE has called me to do, I must learn to love ALL of her children, and accept the natural order and balance of all things. I am now actively searching for the male counterpart SHE has instructed me to find........the Pagan Priest who can aide, counsel and guide the Priestess. I hope he will contact me soon, as I feel some urgency concerning this particular part of my instructions. Now I will relate exactly how I received the call, and perhaps it will be read by the person I seek.

It is sometime between 4 a.m. and daylight when I am blessed by Goddess with a lesson, and a call, sent in a dream. I was instructed to remember this dream, write it, and share it with those who would receive the lesson, and honor and serve the Goddess.

An old woman rose slowly and stiffly from her bed, having been awakened by some small sound. She made her way shakily to the dark rectangle of window in her room, to see if she might see the source of the sound. All was still and quiet.

A silver white crescent gleamed brightly as Moon Goddess smiled brightly on Her daughters, The Sisters, who twinkled merrily in the velvet sky, lighting the paths of the night walkers as they went about the business of hunting and gathering. A small voice whispered to the old one “come out. Come out join us, and commune with us.” The old woman pushed deformed, misshapen feet into soft slippers and pulled a warm robe around her. She picked up her stick and made her way slowly to the door. She stepped carefully onto the porch, then slowly, painfully eased down the few steps to the ground.

When her feet touched the earth and she looked around the scene had changed. She was no longer in her yard. She was in a small clearing in a wooded place, strange, yet somehow familiar. She saw a ledge of stone, just right for a bench upon which to rest. At one end was a small pool of clear, calm water. At the other end stood a mighty oak, ancient and huge. Reflected in the water were the mountains and the forest which clothed them. She noticed that in the light of the moon her dull, gray hair had become soft, silvery tresses falling across skin that was no longer sallow, but glowed white and creamy in the silvery light . She laughed softly at such fantasy. She heard not the cackle of an old crone, but the soft, seductive chuckle of a young and vibrant woman.

She stepped toward the bench and started to sit, then paused. A movement caught her eye, a whisper of sound reached her ear. Before her stood a man of large and powerful stature, a strong and awesome man, but in no way threatening or frightening. He looked at her with unashamed longing, his desires smoldering in his eyes. His eyes! What were they? She looked deep into them, and was amazed to discover that she could see what they saw. The robe fell from her shoulders, and she stood bathed in moonlight, then stretched herself on the bench before him. In his eyes she saw, not an old woman, but The Earth Mother herself, inviting him to partake of her lush gifts and honor Her. Pendulous old breasts hanging dry and useless were replaced by ripe mounds burgeoning with nourishment for generations past, and generations yet to come. Her wide, protruding belly now spoke of lush hills, nurturing and bringing forth life, and all its joys. He came to her, the lance of his manhood proudly erect, ready to share the gifts of the Goddess, ready to serve the Mother. He knelt humbly before the entrance to the temple of life, and bowed reverently to place a kiss on the Mother’s lips. He lay gently upon her, as upon Mother Earth Herself. His powerful arms encircled her, not to crush, or conquer, or imprison, but to cradle, warm and protect from the ravages of time and ignorance. His big, strong hands reached for her, not to rip from her body that which he demanded, but to caress, to coax, to stroke, to entice her to give joyfully and generously that which he desires. As he plunges into her depths, her sigh sounds as the gentle, cooling breeze. As his passion mounts and he rides toward the thunder, the wind howls, the storm rages, washing and cleansing the lands. As he spews his seed inside her she cries out in the sheer joy of knowing she will again soon give birth to life.

“What does it mean?” I asked of the night. The Goddess whispered softly to my heart, “Honor Me. Serve Me. Love Me and all of My creations.” Into my mind crept a picture of a beloved face. Mother, please, no. It hurts too much to love. “No, my child. Love does not hurt. It is the lack of love that hurts. You already know how to love. Now learn not to fear. You are safe, not just because you love him, but because he loves you.”

This dream and a later one combined to show me that I was not being shown a sexual joining of two mortals, but a joining between Priest and Priestess as they become spiritually one leader, and together create balance, harmony and natural order among their followers, their spiritual children. So while I am still not looking for a husband or lover, I AM looking for my Spiritual Consort, my priest who is knowledgeable enough to teach and guide me without making me feel personally threatened.

So that is the story of Granny Acorn. I hope any of those who could benefit from my teaching will be guided to me.

Much love and many bright blessings.

Granny Acorn